Page 132 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I wiped sweat from my brow, unsettled by her words. If an outside force had begun tampering with my runes, I had bigger problems than fractures in the Heirloom.

“Thank you.” My voice came out rough. “I… appreciate it.”

A relieved smile flickered across her features. “You’re welcome. But I want a full explanation of this Bone Behemoth. It sounds… insane.”

Despite my exhaustion, I found a tiny grin. “It stood tall enough to smash a battalion. If I hadn’t lost focus, it would have knelt at my command.”

“And now it’s a pile of bones,” she pointed out drily, raising an eyebrow. “Next time, maybe start smaller. A bone kitten, perhaps?”

That sentence caught me off guard, and a laugh burst from my mouth before I could stop it. I winced when my ribs protested. “Yes, that would certainly maintain my terrifying reputation.”

“On the bright side, a bone kitten is less likely to maim you or bring the ceiling down.” She pushed a stray lock of hair away from my forehead. The simple gesture made my heart pound harder than it should have.

I tried to swallow down my discomfort at her tenderness. “Lady Blackrose, are you actually concerned for me?”

Her expression softened. “Surprise. I’m not eager to watch you tear yourself apart just yet.”

I cleared my throat. I wanted to mock her for coddling me, but ironically, I appreciated the honesty. “Sorry to disappoint you by not dying this evening,” I said lightly, though my tone lacked its usual venom.

She rose to her feet, gaze drifting to the runes scarring my arm. “Will you tell me someday about your mother, about how she… did this to you?”

I froze. No one asked that question. Even mentioning my mother’s vile enchantments brought back memories I’d rather bury. I closed my eyes for a moment. “Perhaps,” I murmured, a quiet concession that tasted foreign. “Someday.”

She offered a slow nod, not pushing me further. Outside in the corridor, footsteps echoed faintly—servants going about their duties. Meanwhile, my arm still tingled from her healing magic.

“Do you want me to help you up to our tower?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather stay here a bit… find where I left my pride.”

Arabella studied my face, then placed her hand lightly atop mine instead of replying. I squeezed her fingers once, then watched her slip from the study.

54

LIE ABOUT THE PAIN (EMOTIONS ARE FLAMMABLE)

ARABELLA

I let the shadow dagger fly from my palm, a ribbon of pure midnight slicing through the air. It lodged in the training dummy’s chest with a satisfying thump, quivering in place before fading back into wisps of darkness.

Kazimir stood several yards away, arms folded across his chest. “Better,” he called. “Now try a spear.”

A wave of pride flickered through me, and I rolled my shoulders to work out the tension. We’d been at it since dawn, and the midday sun was merciless—my leathers stuck to my skin, sweat tracking down the back of my neck. But I couldn’t quite ignore the jagged silhouettes of scaffolding clinging to the citadel’s east wing like giant spider legs. Workers busied themselves halfway up the damaged stone, all because Kazimir and I had caused a magical demolition when our... “resonance” got out of hand.

He glanced at me, then at the scaffolding, his face unreadable. Drawing in a slow breath, I shaped the darkness between my palms, this time letting it stretch into a spear. I took aim at a distant dummy, locked my stance, and?—

“Your form is excellent,” Kazimir’s voice murmured suddenly from right behind me.

I nearly dropped the blasted shadow spear. I hadn’t heard him move closer, and his stealthy habit was equal parts impressive and infuriating. “You’re distracting me,” I said, forcing my eyes to remain on the target, even as my body snapped to full alert merely from his presence at my back.

“By all means, focus,” he said. “But in an actual fight, there will always be distractions.” I caught the tightness around his mouth as he stepped away. A flicker of pain he tried to veil, no doubt another flare of the runes carved into his bones.

I exhaled, wrestling my attention back to the shadow spear.Steady. Deep breath. Pull back the arm.But his pain had gotten under my skin, loosening my concentration at the worst moment. The spear wavered, dissolving in midair and vanishing into harmless wisps before it reached the dummy.

I swore.

“Your concentration is slipping,” Kazimir noted, his tone carefully neutral.

I glared at him. “And you’re in pain again.”

---