Page 88 of Dark Angel

Charles scoffs, “But notthebest. I don’t know how Kora is so skilled. She’s a girl.” He spits out sourly.

“Don’t worry, Charles, you’ll be beating her in no time. Once the Elders see that you’re our top fighter and betrothed to a respectful girl, then they will have no reason not to select you.”

He bites his bottom lip.

“Have you thought about who you’re going to court? You will have to choose a girl by the end of the season.”

Charles shakes his head, “Not yet, father. Are you sure wedding someone is necessary for me to be chosen?”

“I wedded before I became leader, as did my father and his. It’s customary.”

Charles groans softly, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

*?*?*

“Do you mind if we stop at my manor first so that I can change out of this filthy dress?” Kora asks quietly.

Sitting side by side in one of the Ascendancy carriages, the leather bench seat smells of lavender soap. Curtains drawn back, Jordan peers out onto the busy street.

Kora looks down at the misshapen holes and deep stains ruining her dress, knowing very well that it’s beyond repair and will need to be tossed away now. Her skin that the essence burnt has now healed thankfully.

“Yes. I think that would be wise. My mother will ask too many questions otherwise, and I’m not sure she’ll want to know the answers to them.”

“Thank you again for doing this,” Kora says to him sweetly. Her fingertips poking through the rips and tears of the fabric.

Jordan glances sideways at her and grins pleasantly. “Of course I’m going to help you. No doubt my parents will want to, as well.”

She returns his grin. Her mind is so mystified and inundated with the amount of overwhelming information she’s still processing from the past few days, but somehow, she’s able to push that aside for a moment. It’s as if in Jordan’s presence she feels entirely safe and comfortable. Unrestricted and freer. Like she can finally suck in a breath deep enough to soothe her tension and think clearly. He’s beginning to do something to her that nobody else seems to have the ability to do. Something that makes her insides tingle and heat. Something that both ignites her blood and calms her nerves simultaneously. Her chest flushes and warms whenever he gives her one of his dimpled grins.

Those damn dimples.

The carriage rolls to a gentle halt out the front of the Hamilton Manor. Velvety dusk light of pinks and oranges hides the crackingstone pillars and splintering windowsills from view. It is still a lovely manor in her eyes, only she and Clarence don’t have enough time to upkeep its appearance like the other homes neighbouring theirs. Kora tries to keep the garden tidy and pruned during the blooming season at the very least. Tessa adored her garden. She loved every plant, chose every flower in here, so it’s the least Kora can do for her mother.

Jordan opens the well-oiled door of the coach, jumping down to land in the gravel road before holding out a hand for her. Kora’s fingers wrap around his, feeling his warm skin on hers again, jolting her back to life as he guides her out.

“Shall I wait here for you?” he asks politely, not wanting to make her uncomfortable in any way.

She feels her cheeks flushing at his question. “I shall require some help. If you don’t mind, that is?”

Jordan hesitates for a fleeting moment, working his throat, before agreeing. “Of course.” He looks to the coach driver who is sitting in his seat awaiting their command. “Stay here. We will be only a few minutes.”

The driver nods, tilting his brown bowler cap while whistling casually to himself.

Touching the small of her back, Jordan guides her towards the entrance of her manor. The lowering sun gilds every surface in a soft glow. Stars are peeking out through the scattered clouds, twinkling gently above like tiny glimmering diamonds.

Reaching the dark painted door, Kora pushes the stubborn thing open. It reluctantly swings on rusted, whining hinges.

A bout of cold air instantly hits Jordan. The emptiness of the manor is unnerving and foreign to him. It’s cold, and dim, and creaky.

“My quarters are upstairs.” Kora says lowly, pointing towards the dark-stained staircase jutting out from the wall dividing them from the parlour. A small pendant hangs above the entryway, burning faintly against the shadows of the house.

“Lead the way.” Jordan says without peering down at her.

He follows Kora up the creaky timber staircase. The intricate banister is wobbly and unsupportive. The entire house is eerily quiet. He hates how quiet it is. His family’s manor is always busy with staff and people wandering about. He’d despise living alone like this in a massive manor.

Old Victorian wallpaper of birds and dark flowers cover the walls but have started peeling around the edges. Old oil paintings hang in small wooden frames. Jordan stops at one of Clarence and Kora as children, sitting together in an overstuffed pea green chair. Clarence looks down at Kora like she’s sunlight.

That’s how Jordan’s beginning to see her as well. Kora is sunlight, a brightness illuminating him. He’s by no means depressed or unloved, but he has always felt a dimness in his life. Keeping to himself and not sharing his private feelings with anyone else, he feels as though Kora is pulling him out of the depths of that dark water and dousing him in her light.

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