Page 7 of Blackwarden
Chapter 3 ~ Burning Questions
Rosalin
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I stood in the middle of the sitting room, shivering with cold and fear and staring straight ahead out a window to the dark forest beyond. Keres’ voice echoed through my head.“You have heavy emotions tied to him.”What did he mean by that? How could he know?
How. Could. He. Know?
I squeezed my eyes shut, Bastion’s face flashing behind my eyelids. I pushed it away. My heart was too tender right now,my emotions sliced into thin strips of sorrow soaked in anger. The tear-streaked face of my sister flashed across my mind. I’d left her in a state of absolute despair. I worried she’d struggle to pull herself together enough to make it home to our parents. Three mornings ago, I’d helped her get ready to present herself for the choosing. We’d laughed about how silly the whole thing was, while I wove ribbons into her hair. We’d both been certain she wouldn’t be chosen.
My chest tightened, knowing I’d never see Renee again. We’d never walk arm in arm to the market or splash each other with soapy water while washing the dinner dishes together. We wouldnever share our cozy room at the top of the loft ladder, in our parents’ house, chatting in the darkness until we both fell asleep. I’d left my very best friend behind. But if it hadn’t been me to come here, it would have been her. I didn’t regret my decision. I shuddered before hugging my arms around my chest. I needed to tuck these memories away, before they broke me entirely.
Flames crackled in the fireplace nestled beside the small sitting area, but I still felt cold. I wasn’t ready to sit in the comfortable looking chair yet. There were too many new things, too many swirling thoughts. And there was a Dark Fae, somewhere on the other side of the door to my suite.
I spun in place, until I was drawn back to the bedroom. The further I went into my new chambers, the safer I felt. Peeking in, I found a wardrobe against one of the walls. I expected to find it empty, to be greeted by a waft of dust. Instead, I found a collection of gowns, most of them too frilly for my taste—definitely something more to Renee’s liking. Had the Gatehouse known my sister’s name would be called? Had someone prepared these for her?
I ran my fingers over the satiny material of a black overdress, simple and elegant. Beside it there was a cream dressing gown for sleeping and I pulled it from its hanger, suddenly desperate to be out of my travel worn clothes. How had I managed to get through this day in one piece? I pulled off my work dress, goosebumps blooming over my arms and back from the chilled air of the bedroom. With more haste than usual, I slipped into the dressing gown as thoughts of creepy mansions and dark magic turned mushy with exhaustion.
The canopy bed was perhaps the most lavish thing I’d ever seen, with carved wooden posts, heavy canopy drapes, and sumptuous pillows and bed covers. I snuck beneath them, burying myself and my sorrows. I’d be safe here, I told myself. Everything would be okay. At least as okay as it could be. I nuzzled into the pillow, wishing I could disappear. As much as I feared I wouldn’tbe able to still my nerves in this strange new place, I fell asleep faster than I ever had before.
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Light peeked between heavy drapes and flooded the otherwise dark room with golden warmth, waking me from my hard slumber. Reluctant to remove myself from the mound of silky bedding, that was far more luxurious than anything I’d ever slept in before, I rolled over and burrowed back under the covers. I told myself that as long as I was wrapped in these blankets, I’d be safe. I knew that soon, I would need to extract myself in order to rummage up something to wear, but what would a little more sleep hurt?
I dozed for another few moments before the eerie feeling of being watched jolted me awake. Poking my head out of the covers, I looked around. There was nothing but the wardrobe, massive canopy bed, a nightstand, and a single window. A brazier beside the bed burst to life, and I yelped as I yanked the blankets back over my head.
After several minutes spent trying to calm my frayed nerves, I finally dragged myself out of bed and pulled on the black overdress I’d found the night before. It fit shockingly well. Even the length seemed tailored to my measurements. I smoothed my hands over my stomach to my hips. It was probably more magic, and I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to it. Summoning food with my mind was crazy enough.
The fire sprang to life as I entered the sitting room, and I flinched back, my heart racing with adrenaline. Frozen in place, I watched the flames for a moment. Would I ever get used to Fae magic? I pushed the rush of anxiety away as I plopped down on the chair in the sitting area and started rooting through the books left for me on the side table. They were as good of a distraction as any from my situation. They were texts on royal etiquette and a history of the Fae courts. So, this was what I’d be learning. I’d only managed a cursory glance before a soft knock interrupted me. Not entirely sure why I felt the need to hurry, I rushed to the door. Iknew who would be on the other side. There was only one other person in the Gatehouse as far as I could tell.
The Dark Fae was waiting, both hands tucked behind his back in a strangely formal way. His posture was confident, the slightest tilt of his head speaking volumes of how highly he thought of himself.
“Good morning, Ms. Greene.”
Today, he wore a black doublet trimmed in blood red, tailored tight to his toned frame. It seemed modest compared to what he’d worn to greet me the day before, with a high collar that hid his chest entirely. As he turned to lead me down the hall, however, I was met with sheer fabric that left his entire back exposed. Every sculpted muscle and perfect curve of his form on display with shameless elegance.
It was unnerving. At the same time, my curiosity kept me from looking away. He had delicate, almost feminine tattoos wrapped around his shoulder blades and down his spine. They looked like winged dragons or serpents, but I couldn’t be sure. The shear panel of his doublet was just thick enough that I’d need to step closer to see, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. Besides, I needed to pay attention to where he was leading me so I could take myself to the dining room in the future.
For the first time since stepping into this place I focused on my surroundings. I’d not been in the proper emotional state before. It was black on black on black. Black stone tile with black painted trim. Black stained wooden rafters high above. The walls were frosted with black textured paper and sweeping murals painted in drab tones of twisting serpentine dragons similar to what was on Keres’ back. The beasts snaked down the wall and wound around the self-lighting braziers that ignited as we walked past. My skin crawled as I noticed the eyes of the dragons following my every step.
There were other creatures in the mural as well, ones I didn’t have names for that seemed in a never-ending quest to capturethe countless naked humans. Some of the creatures appeared to be ripping the limps from their prey and some devouring them whole. It wasn’t these that scared me, though. It was the ones that were doing other more intimate things that caused my stomach to clench. Based on the expressions the humans wore; they weren’t always consensual things. It was grotesque, but I couldn’t rip my eyes from it.
I shivered, reminding myself that while my suite was peaceful and relatively normal, this place was anything but. The tingle of magic on my skin ever present. After noticing a woman who looked entirely too much like myself, with mousy brown hair, being chased by a dark creature with wings, I tried my best to avert my eyes and let them return to Keres’ tattooed back.
He swept us into the dining room, a place that was at least somewhat familiar, though, like the rest of the Gatehouse I hadn’t spent much time the day before actually looking at it. The table was a heavy dark wood. Not black, surprisingly. Each chair was made from the same wood and adorned with a black velvet cushion, bordered with silver studs. The two floor-to-ceiling windows were adorned with black drapes with a cold, dark landscape painting in a gilded frame between them. Everything was lavish, pristine, and just a little strange. It did nothing to calm my nerves at the fact that in a moment I’d be telling the Gatehouse what I wished to eat...with my mind.
Keres didn’t seem to be in a particularly chatty mood. He pulled my chair out for me as he had the previous day before choosing the seat directly across from mine. There were clean black plates placed on the table in front of our two seats, and I wondered if this was where Keres always sat. His expression was innocuous, empty. His eyes seemed almost dead as they searched my face for some answer I was apparently not providing.
“Are the accommodations to your liking, Ms. Greene?”
I could only stare at him, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t scathing. It was strange how my fear turned tofrustration every time he spoke. It wasn’t him; it was his words, or lack thereof.
Truth be told, my accommodations appeared to be perfect—like him. The only flaw was the fact that everything that surrounded me, the bed coverings, the leather on the comfy chair in the sitting area, the walls, the floors, the towels in the bathroom,were all black. And it reminded me ofhim. As if the rugs and the curtains and the brocade overdress that I wore were made of the same thing he was made of—Dark Fae magic.
“Are you...part of this mansion?”
I don’t know where the question came from exactly, but I was happy I’d asked it, because a flash of confusion crossed his face before he smothered it with a smirk. I found it hard to hide my momentary enjoyment at confusing him.
