Page 49 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

DOROTHEE

It wasa big accomplishment for me to stuff my notes in my backpack while running down the stairs without falling.

I tried not to curse myself too much for giving my papers dog-ears, since I really did not have time for that. There was not one day more passing by where I wanted to stay oblivious to what was happening right under my nose. And I already had the weekend for self-pity and tears over my possible death, so I wouldn’t waste any more time.

The clouds above me looked ready to cry tears of sorrow at any moment, but I was sure it wouldn’t rain today. It had rained all morning, and I’d learned that the weather tended to only cry tears once a day, some days longer than others, but rarely ever twice.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I closed the buttons on my very worn brown leather jacket that was at least two sizes too big for me. I had bought it the last time I was in Owley, in a second-hand shop, and since then, I had abandoned the cloak my mother had packed me.

Because I still had some dignity left, I slowed down to a normal walk when I was finally outside the stables. I might havepathetically clung to the fact that I could learn more about who I am from the Kingstone heir, but he didn’t need to see how much our deal meant to me.

Standing in front of the closed door of the stables, I inhaled deeply, soothing the crippling anxiety creeping up my limbs.

This was it.Answers.All I ever wanted. And even though I had already faced lots of them on Halloween, this was different. The answers I already had were general. This was purely about me and the way all of my abilities had affected my life.

I threw the door open a little too dramatically, though it wasn’t my fault but the wind, which supported this overly embarrassing entrance.

Archer stood with his back to me, and he didn’t look like he was about to move as he brushed his midnight-black horse’s mane in gentle strokes.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered.

I froze in place, and for a second, I thought about the possibility that he might think I was someone else—someone he was waiting for. If so, then this was terribly awkward.

“You know, while I do appreciate your fascination with me, I would prefer to be able to hear your snickering instead of having to imagine it.”

“I do not snicker,” I disagreed, and he put the harrow down, his tense shoulders relaxing a little, and I could have slapped myself for this being the first thing I had to say to him. My plan was to keep my chin up and act like the total opposite of the person I normally am.

Archer was the one who awakened something in me that had been asleep ever since I experienced my mother's shame whenever she had to go into public places with her daughter.

He moved to grab an apple from a bucket, offering it to the black horse. “But you agree to watch me when you believe I’m not aware of your icy eyes on me?”

“You’ve got nothing to say. Your eyes lay constantly on me during every break we are near one another,” I shot back.

“I never denied that, did I, Doe?” No, he hadn’t. And this was the first time he had called me by the nickname Maisie had given me. “In contrast to you, I know that you’re very aware of my gaze. Stalking people without their knowledge is pretty rude, if you ask me.”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Well, I didn’t ask you. And more importantly, I didn’t stalk you, Arsehole.”

“I like looking at you because you’re mesmerising. A fallen star burning with loss and sorrow from having left its place in the constellation where it belongs, to the side of light and freedom.”

Archer turned around and took a step forward, looking down at me, and I found myself lost in the confusion of his words and tangled in the colour of his eyes.

“Other people would refer to such a feeling as finding me pretty.”

He formed his eyes into slits, and for a brief moment, the hint of a grin played on his lips.

“Pretty isn’t the right word to describe you. It belittles how it feels to look at you.”

Heat shot into my cheeks, and it took everything I had to rip my gaze away from his. I wanted to say something, but I found no words, because the ones he had just said touched something deep inside of me. Like his fingertips had just brushed a forbidden part of my soul.

Fallen Star.

A title so familiar and still so strange. I’m almost sure that someone had called me this before, but the more I tried to remember, the further away the memory hid.

“You should sign up for the Dead Poets Society, Shakespeare,” I joked, trying to ease some of the tensiongrowing inside of me the longer I felt his gaze staring right through the deepest pits of my heart.

Somehow, I managed to look at him again, and I couldn’t help but smile as I found his eyes memorising every feature of my face.

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