Page 20 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

Davron smiled. It was the first real smile she’d seen from him. His teeth were white and gleaming, and she suspected he had once been handsome, by usual standards. She recalled the room full of smashed mirrors and her heart softened toward him, making her drop her guard a little.

“I have a sister too, you know,” she said. “Why did you request the eldest, by the way? Most men would wish for the youngest.”

He raised his eyebrows and touched his twelve fingers to his chest. “Am I most men?”

“No.” Amelie blushed. “I suppose you aren’t.”

He inclined his head. “The eldest is most likely to be a woman, not a damsel. You would know yourself. Have more experience with the mysteries of the world.”

She fidgeted with the lace on her dress. “I don’t know about that. I’ve lived in the same place all my life. Castle Grange is the farthest I have ever traveled.”

“But you journey far and wide in your mind, I daresay. That is what matters to me. Do you find the castle comfortable?” he added.

“Very much so. The castle is beautiful and intriguing. I do miss my books and walking in the forest, but I can hardly complain.”

“You are welcome to go outside. You are free to walk the grounds as long as it’s not beyond the fence line. Not without my knowledge.”

Amelie nodded, although she had been looking forward to visiting the village and lamented that she could not.

“And no one comes in,” he continued in a warning tone. “Food and supplies are delivered by a man called Oskar, from the village. He is the only person I allow beyond the gates. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She paused. “The window to my chambers does not open. Is that the castle’s doing, or yours?”

“The castle. It has its limits, but it will do what it can to aid and protect its residents.”

Davron absentmindedly rubbed the part of his arm where black chains covered his flesh. “And Amelie? You are not my prisoner and we are not betrothed. You are my guest, should you wish to stay.”

At these words, Amelie felt a tugging sensation inside her chest that she didn’t quite understand. She didn’t want to be bound to him. She hadn’t wanted that at all.

So, why did she feel ever-so-slightly deflated right now? She ought to have been jumping for joy. Not only was she free to leave, but she was not betrothed to a man who brawled with her brothers and licked wine from his chin.

She gave a prim nod. “That sounds very fair.”

The clock on the mantel struck eleven times.

“I wish to retire,” said Amelie, abruptly standing. Her mind was overflowing and she needed to be alone with her thoughts. “Thank you for the evening.”

“Oh. Of course. Would you like?—”

“No. Thank you. I will find my own way.”

Davron stood, drawing himself up to his considerable height. For several long moments, they looked into each other’s faces. After their conversation, Amelie was confused about how she felt. It had been the strangest evening she’d spent with anyone, ever.

And, despite all he’d told her, she felt there was still much she did not understand.

She was the first to look away. Her face flushing, she bent her knee and hurried from the room. This time, when she climbed into bed, she did not weep.

Nor did she wedge the baroque chair under the door handle.

CHAPTER 11

The next morning, Amelie slept in again.

She had spent a restless night dwelling on her conversation with Davron. Both he and the castle were cursed, yet the Dark One could not enter the grounds.

Had the apothecary belonged to his mother? Surely. Many of those recipes required the application of magic in addition to the plants and substances. Amelie wished she had a legitimate reason to ask him about it.

As she’d gazed at the ceiling well past midnight, she thought of the loneliness she’d felt that afternoon, sitting by the fire. It was the loneliness of finding oneself in unusual circumstances. She realized that must’ve been how Davron had felt every single day of his life since he’d been cursed. He possessed riches beyond imagining, but he had no family. No friends, no wife. Not even servants, so complete was his solitude. What must that do to a person?

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