Page 1 of Poison Nights & Twilight Alchemy

CHAPTER ONE

DULCE

Shadows danced like joyous skeletons beneath the silvery glow of the full moon. The garden, dressed in obsidian, ivory, violet, and cerulean floral blooms, swayed in the night as the carriage drew closer to its destination. Wreaths of sage and honeysuckle along the entrance gate greeted the newlyweds, and Dulce sighed in merry contentment.Home. No longer was she the manor’s sole heir—that honor would now be shared with the handsome man seated beside her.

Cornelius William Hale. Known before today as the most eligible bachelor in every village of Moonglade.

Their conversation had been sparse after the long dayof lavish wedding festivities in the town common house. Cornelius had insisted on inviting everyone in Moonglade, near and far, but hours of feasting, dancing, and greeting many she didn’t know, especially in a dress weighing nearly as much as herself, left Dulce’s feet aching, no matter how showered with flattery she’d been.

Dulce peeked at Cornelius out of the corner of her eye, his smile gentle while he held her hand in his. She should feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Not only was her husband handsome, but he was also kind and generous. Cornelius had pursued her with charm and grace, his humor winning her friendship. And although Dulce had to admit to herself that she didn’t love himyet, she had accepted his marriage proposal.

To turn down a proposal from such a perfect man would have broken her parents’ hearts, if they had still been living.

Besides, it must not be denied that Cornelius was clearly the one Vesta had meant when she’d read Dulce’s fortune in the tea leaves last spring. There could be no doubt.

“The man who will own your heart entirely, and you his,” her housemaid had said, her eyes glazed over in that way they got, “is the one who will lift you from a most unfortunate and muddy circumstance.”

Hadn’t Cornelius been the one who’d helped her up when she’d tripped in the garden only days later? Anyone would deduce the same. It had to be true, because look, here she sat. His bride. Owning her heart entirely would just have to come later.

Cornelius’s thumb tenderly caressed Dulce’s hand, pulling her from her thoughts and reminding her that theyhad nearly reached the manor.

Oh dear.Dulce’s heart pounded with suddenpanic.The wedding night!

The moment she knew completed every union would be approaching rather soon. Too soon. Dulce’s hand grew clammy within Cornelius’s as she thought about what would surely be expected of her within the next hour. They’d hardly kissed a handful of times, chaste kisses that were lovely but admittedly had failed to make her weak in the knees like the heroines in the poems she loved. Even though most of those ended in beautiful gloom.

The carriage jostled toward the manor’s ancient bristlecone pine, its gnarled trunk like so many open arms, and Dulce smiled, her worries fading at its familiar sight, the memories it conjured. Her mother had loved this tree and used to take Dulce to sit beneath it almost every day while she read her tales of brilliant alchemists. Vesta would stand watch, scolding Dulce to be careful as she climbed within its smooth branches, demanding she get down before she broke her neck.

“You’re being rather quiet, darling,” Cornelius whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her neck. “Are you not happy?”

Dulce smiled as she turned to meet her husband’s vivid hazel eyes. “I am. I’m only tired from so much celebrating—that’s all.”

He took his hand from hers and draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against him. “It was a beautiful celebration though, wasn’t it? I especially loved the glazed venison. And the orchestra was moving.”

His words didn’t quite calm her nerves, but Dulce smiled again and nodded all the same.

Giving her hand one last squeeze, Cornelius adjusted his cravat, a smile in his voice. “We’re home.”

Dulce peered from the carriage window as the horses halted before the manor that had been in her family for generations. Deep green ivy crawled across its entranceway, tiny sapphire flowers blossoming within the vine’s depths. Metallic dragonflies, blue and green moths, and copper butterflies flew throughout the garden. Several of the bushes were cloaked in shining gossamer where spiders had spun their silk. Ever since she was a girl, Dulce had instructed the servants never to disrupt the arachnids’ homes.

The carriage door opened to reveal Sylvan, his gray hair disheveled from driving them home, and he bowed with a wide gap-toothed grin. He’d apparently waited for her wedding day since the day she was born and couldn’t stop smiling and congratulating her.

“Your father and mother would be so proud, Miss Dulce,” he’d said, his eyes full of jovial tears just before the wedding ceremony. “I just know they would.”

Dulce had warned him not to drink too much plum brandy, and he’d only laughed.

Cornelius stepped in front of Sylvan, dismissing the servant for the night, then held his hand out for Dulce. A gust of cool fall air blew past her, and she shivered, gooseflesh sprinkling across her arms.

“Thank you, Sylvie,” Dulce said. “I do believe Mr. Hale and I have all we need for the next two days.”

Generally, Sylvan and his grandson Lucas remained at the manor along with Vesta, but Cornelius had kindlysuggested giving the entire staff a few nights away at the town’s best inn—the Royal Lion—while he and Dulce learned to be husband and wife. The servants certainly deserved some time to themselves after the hard work they’d put in over the years, especially after Dulce’s parents passed.

Sylvan hadn’t liked the idea though, taking it more as a critique of his professionalism, which Dulce found endearing, though ridiculous. There was no better housekeeper in the world.

“If you need anything”—Sylvan wrung his hands—“we’ll happily return and be at your service immediately,” he promised.

“All right, I’ll remember that.” She grinned, knowing there would be no reason to take a horse into town and ruin their holiday.

As the carriage pulled away, Cornelius scooped Dulce into his arms, and she gasped, her dress billowing in the wind. “Mrs. Hale,” he said, carrying her to the door. “Now it’s just the two of us.”

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