Page 19 of Blackwarden
Rising from the chair, I slipped the book back into its place before I eyed the cupboard again. It hadn’t contained much: a pile of stationary, a collection of pens, and several vials of different colored inks. If I wasn’t mistaken there had been a stack of what looked like journals as well, something I could possibly find more information in. I pulled it open but stood back, arms falling to my sides in defeat.
It was empty. Completely and utterly empty. Not a scrap of paper. Not even a smudge of ink or a speck of dust. Keres must have cleared it out. I stood, staring into it for another moment, letting my mind tumble over all the reasons he would have done this. Perhaps he feared I’d do exactly what I was doing. I wanted to get my hands on one of those journals even more. Instead, I crept back into the hall and slipped into my room, careful to close the door silently behind me.
I leaned against the door, letting my head fall back with a thud. I’d found nothing and gotten exactly zero answers.
Again.
––––––––
Morning came entirely too early. From the enchanted wardrobe, I managed to find something both comfortable and modest, though today, it offered only blood-red gowns. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was something Keres had requested. Still, it was better than black, which was all it had provided to me thus far.
Keres sat stiffly in his chair. His eyes followed me as I crossed the room and sat in my usual seat across from him. Goosebumps rippled down my arms while I tried to ignore how he stared. It was an unyielding glare. One that made the hair on the nape of my neck stand up.
“Midnight ventures to the library are not permitted, Ms. Greene.”
My eyes snapped to his. How had he known? Did the Gatehouseactuallytell him?
“I...um...”
“If there’s something you need, you have but to ask.” He glanced down at the empty plate in front of him and the same boring breakfast of soft-boiled eggs and toast materialized before him.
I nearly fell out of my chair as a green apple and two rolls appeared on my own plate.
“Interesting choice,” he said.
The left side of his lips quirked up when I glanced in his direction before his attention returned to his eggs. After the initial shock wore off, I grabbed the apple and pressed it to my lips as I had the night before. Closing my eyes, I let the smell wash over me, saving me from the merciless way his eyes never left me. The scent was sweet and sour, the perfect apple. The peel pressed against my lips was so soft. A memory of Bastion—how sometimes he would run his thumb over my lower lip before he kissed me. A soft touch. Bastion had always been so caring and attentive. The calluses on his rugged hands were rough, but his touch could be so incredibly gentle.
A flash of heat plummeted into my stomach as I remembered the night before he’d been killed. His hands had held me extra tight, as if he’d known his fate. How many times had I wished for those hands on my body just one more time. His lips on mine. The cinnamon smell of his skin flooding my senses and driving me to the brink of existence.
When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find Keres staring at the apple, a bite of egg halfway to his mouth. He cleared his throat and looked away as he stuffed the bite between his lips.
Before I allowed myself to think more on his reaction I took a massive bite of the apple, chewing it loudly, hoping to elicit some other reaction from him. Instead, he continued to eat his eggs as though he was the only person in the room. He ripped a cornerfrom his piece of toast, and I nearly lost myself watching his fingers as he slipped the bread between his lips.
He stared at me. Again. And in my attempts to avoid his eye contact my gaze fell back to his hands as they ripped another bite of toast.
Those hands. My blood seemed to boil through me at the thought ofKeres’hands on my body. When had my traitorous thoughts changed from fear and anger to...this?
Another bite of apple, an attempt to distract myself from the way his throat moved as he swallowed his tea in smooth gulps, his eyes returning to me as I finished the apple and selected one of the two rolls. It was the same as the one I’d swiped the night before, buttery and perfect.
This was agony, the way my thoughts shifted back and forth between Bastion’s crooked smile to Keres’ broody stares.
“What is it you needed from the library so badly that it would force you from your suite in the middle of the night, Ms. Greene?”
I stiffened. I couldn’t answer. My mind was swallowed up in the memory of a man I had loved, and a Dark Fae I shouldn’t want. I pretended not to hear him. How many times had he ignored my questions? I should be allowed to ignore this one.
I took another bite of the buttery roll, letting it melt on my tongue. I closed my eyes and savored the comfortable taste of home. It didn’t last. The thought of Keres’ hands crept back in, the warmth of him, the steady thrum of his heart against my face when he’d carried me.
I ripped another bite away from the roll with my teeth, desperate to banish the ache for his touch, the scent of him.
“Very well then.” He stood, leaving half a slice of toast and most of his second egg behind. “Enjoy your wanderings, but please...” he trailed off, drawing my eyes to his. He wore the face he’d first greeted me with—cold and uncaring. “No wandering after midnight.”
My eyes tracked him as he crossed the dining room, a burning pit of anger simmering in my gut. Lesson learned. The Gatehouse, it seemed, had no intention of letting me roam freely withoutreporting back to him. If I wanted to eat, I needed to attend meals. Never wander after midnight. Always request what my heart desired, though I’d tested this and the Gatehouse did not in fact provide me with whatever my heart desired.
“I want to know more about the curse,” I blurted out, my frustration bubbling over.
He stopped halfway through the dining room door and with deliberate slowness turned, his eyes making a slow journey across the floor to my face.
“What makes you so certain there’s a curse?”
