Page 101 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
The lamps were brighter inside, warm against the floral wallpaper. The gold decorations were dulled with time, just as the marble floor was covered in scratches and stains from overuse. Women in brightly coloured gowns flitted between the men, who stood tall in dark evening attire. The heavy stench of perfume and cologne only intensified my disgust.
The servant left me standing there in the shadows, as I tried to build up the courage to go inside.
‘Miss Woodrow,’ came the sharp voice over my shoulder. Dread sinking further into my gut as I turned to see the form of Lord Percy, wearing an ill-fitting dark dinner jacket, a scowl on his liquor-rosy face.
‘Lord Percy.’ I bowed, tucking my balled fists behind my back.
‘I was seeking your master.’ He glowered down at my breasts with disdain as if they’d personally offended him.
‘Then it’s no wonder you’ve struggled to find something I don’t possess.’ I smiled tightly, refusing to play his vulgar game.
‘You can remind him he’s here for no other purpose than a mad old man’s grief.’ He half spat the words under his breath, a hideous wash of sour drink reaching my nose.
‘The ruins stand as testament that that’s not entirely true,’ I pointed out carefully.
‘More fey seeking revenge,’ he snapped, his lip curling and an unfocused nature to his eyes.
‘Lord Percy, you should wait for a dance to stare so intently at a lady,’ came the cheery voice of Thean Page. I turned, stunned to see the voyav dressed in a pristine grey velvet suit, heavy black beading at the collar and cuffs. A glass of wine in their hand and their hair was brushed back harshly, fangs on display.
However, there was a slight distortion from the glamour they’d wrapped around themself to fool a mortal eye.
‘Master Gladstone.’ Lord Percy bowed sharply with annoyance. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’
Lord Percy thankfully left us as quickly as he appeared. Suddenly tight lipped like the coward I suspected him of being.
‘Who does he think you are?’ I asked, watching Thean’s predatory amber eyes track the lord’s retreat into the ballroom.
‘The architect to repair the house.’ They smiled sharply, offering me their arm.
‘Do you know anything about architecture?’ I frowned, letting them guide me into the ballroom. It probably wasn’t wise, but I fancied my chances better with the mysterious voyav than a priggish lord. I had no reason to maim Thean. At least not yet.
‘Enough to fool a fool.’ They winked, and if I wasn’t so cautious and annoyed by their presence, I could have considered them to be a handsome being. Although clearlynot scarred, brooding and secretive enough for my current foolish tastes.
‘He’ll notice when you haven’t repaired his house,’ I pointed out.
‘Will he?’ There was a sharp seductive nature to their answering smile that I could see working on someone more reserved than myself.
I turned my attention to the room, regretting it immediately. The ladies fluttered feather fans, intensifying the thickness of perfume in the air. Bosoms were powdered and jewels reflected the lamplight to throw shapes about the room.
Crowds of people occupied the hall, none of whom had noticed I’d arrived. I looked for Emrys, and finally saw him Finding him standing in the centre of the crowd, at ease and in deep conversation, a glass of wine in his hand. Not a strand of his raven hair was out of place. His dark suit, embroidered with silver, was in fashion and tailored perfectly to his imposing physique. He looked like a beautiful holy demon, the type the saints spoke about, who lurked in murky woods to persuade maidens to raise darkness from the earth with their blood.
Only, I preferred him the way he normally was, disheveled and trying to make sense of madness. This version only reminded me of the different worlds we came from and just how comfortably he had settled back into his own.
A young woman stood close at his side, rosy cheeked with blonde curls elaborately arranged. Her ruffled pink dress was decorated with jewels and bows, and she hung off his every word. Soft and demure.
‘What did you discover?’ I swallowed painfully, shifting my attention back to Thean, ignoring the sinking feeling in the centre of my chest at the sight of Emrys with that woman.
‘You’re supposed to start conversation a little slower than that, darling,’ they teased, stepping closer with a mocking lift to their eyebrow.
‘Who is that woman?’ I asked before I even knew I wanted an answer.
‘Lady Constance Lovell,’ Thean replied conversationally, clearly caring more for gossip than Emrys’s privacy. ‘There were rumours of an engagement brewing between them, but she found a new suitor while Emrys was serving in the wars. Her husband developed a wasting disease and it’s said she’s looking to improve her circumstances, now her mourning period is over.’
I pushed down the strange, horrid pang in my chest, reminding myself Emrys had a life before I stumbled across his path. ‘You mean now her wealth has run out.’
‘Women have to make different bargains to men,’ Thean countered, a strange sympathy in the words I couldn’t argue with.
‘Some do it far too comfortably,’ I hated the thought instantly, it felt like a betrayal to myself and everything I thought I believed in. My anger was childish and beneath me, but I couldn’t help myself.
