Page 73 of Her Dark Promise

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

He knew this was a losing battle and walked away, then paused, looking up at the portrait of my family. I readied myself for another fight before he said the one thing that I never thought I would hear uttered on another’s lips. A word that was as foreign to me as emotions were. A part of me that was dead.

“Calathea?” He said it while looking at me through his peripheral. Wanting to see my reaction to it. As if he already knew the answer, but just wanted confirmation of his hunch.

I stilled. “How do you know that name?”

“So, it’s true? You are Calathea Rose Everhart.”

I swallowed. “That girl is dead.”

And she was. She died when her human life ended.

“Why aren’t you in any of the texts that I have read, but you are in every book that mentions your family in this castle? You have been completely erased from the history of this kingdom. I was shocked when I read that they had another daughter and didn’t fathom that it was you.” He was getting too excited over this revelation. “I only just now realized it because of this,” he said, pointing toward the portrait.

That was part of the curse. I would be forgotten, cursed to be alone. I didn't know how she did it, but she succeeded.

“Scholar, I would recommend that you get away from me right now before I do something neither of us wants.”

He swallowed, thankfully realizing that it was not the moment to press the subject. He turned and hurried out of the room without another word.

The audacity of this boy never ceased to amaze me. How had my speech earlier not shaken him enough to leave all this be?What did the past have such control over him? Nearly as much as it did myself?

I leaned against the wall of books and slowly slid to the ground, suddenly exhausted. More than I had been. If I hadn’t been so transfixed by what Soren had just said, I could have fallen asleep right there on the ground.

Was he going to tell Bastian my name? Did it even matter?

It doesn’t matter what they call you, you are still a monster. La bête.

I needed to know what he planned to do with this information; he looked too excited to not share my name. I lifted my hand, focusing my energy as shadows licked the skin over my hand, creating a ball of swirling violet light. When my father closed off the tunnels under the suspicion they were being used, Circe taught me this trick to spy on the people within the castle.

The moment the ball of light fully formed, Soren burst through Bastian’s chamber doors.

Bastian startled awake. “Ren?”

I could see Soren striding toward the window, throwing the curtains open, letting in the natural light from the moon’s rays that were able to penetrate the fog.

Bastian rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, and when he finally looked at his brother, he jumped from the bed. “What happened!”

Bastian hurried over to Soren, grabbed his face between his hands, and moved it around to get a good look at him.

“I am going to kill her,” he seethed.

Soren seemed to be annoyed by this as he rolled his eyes and swatted his brother’s hands away. He then pulled something from the waistband of his trousers. A book.

I stiffened. That little snake.

He held it up in front of Bastian’s face and began his rambling, unable to hide the excitement now that he had someone to share it with.

“Calathea Rose Everhart, born on December 21, 1391. Her parents, King Jean and Queen Angela Everhart, along with ninety-seven percent of the kingdom, were killed due to a mysterious plague. The only ones to have survived were people who were away on holiday, at university or work. Annabelle Paige Everhart died before the plague and had been rumored to be the first to fall ill from it, infecting everyone else. Though others say that she was murdered. Because no one had dared to enter the kingdom for many years after, not even to claim the bodies in fear of contracting the disease, no one can say for certain what is the truth. Not to mention the myth ofla bête.”

Soren looked mad, out of his mind, at all of these new revelations. Overcome with intrigue and filled with even more questions than before. His eyes bulged out of his head as he opened the book and flipped carefully through the worn pages. Even in this erratic state, he knew to be careful with the ancient texts.

He was pacing, unable to keep himself still, running his hands through his hair as he continued, “She has been eradicated from every single text except for the ones in her library. And she has this room—”

“Soren, you need to slow down, I don’t understand a word you’re saying. And tell me why the fuck you have blood on your face and clothes.”

Soren took a breath and snapped, “Let me explain this in a way you’ll understand. The queen punched me, broke my nose, and I passed out from looking at the blood. I think I may be hemophobic, but I can test that theory at a later date.”

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