Page 86 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
“Are you quite finished fussing?” Dorian mutters, voice rough.
“Are you quite finished trying to set yourself on fire?” Soren counters.
Dorian exhales through his nose, tilting his head just enough to see Selene. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—weariness, maybe. A question he’s too tired to ask.
Selene swallows, the letter burning against her wrist.
“Get out,” Selene demands.
Rookwood and Soren both look at her like she’s possessed. She dimly wonders if that’s far from the truth. They turn from her to Dorian, who nods his head.
They quickly file out.
Selene throws the note onto his bed, along with his glasses. “What’s this?”
Dorian takes his glasses with trembling fingers, his eyes widening as he sees what’s in front of him. “A note from the Duke,” he responds.
“I can see that. What I want to know is why you kept it, and why your study is filled with maps of the Ashvold mountain and my grandmother’s estate.”
“Selene,” Dorian begins, his voice still hoarse from the smoke.
“You cannot be in league with the Duke,” she utters, the words falling out of her. “So why…” An awful thought occurs to her. “Is this why you married me? Do you… do you want control of Nocturne Hall?”
It can’t be true. Itcan’t be.There has to be another explanation, because Dorian isn’t like Duke Drakefell. He isn’t. Not Dorian who threatened to hurt him just for dancing with her, who wiped away her tears, who wouldn’t even sleep with her because she’d been drinking. Not that Dorian. Not him…
But him being a liar and marrying her for his own ends makes more sense to her than him doing so because he’s kind. Maybe he has some morals. Maybe that’s why he felt bad about the kiss, because all along he’s been planning something—
No, no, no, please. Don’t again. Not him.
“Selene, no,” Dorian says, struggling off the bed. “I don’t—I wouldn’t—I wouldnever…”
“Then explain it to me!” she demands. “Make this make sense!”
Dorian opens his mouth to explain, but immediately begins to cough.
Selene passes him a glass of water. “Do not expire when I’m mad at you!”
“N-noted,” Dorian croaks, drinking as well as he can. When he’s downed most of the glass, he gestures to beside him. “You may wish to sit down.”
Selene does, but not next to him. She settles herself in the chair by the window, as far away from him as she can. She crosses her arms like a schoolmistress. “Talk.”
Dorian sighs. Then, slowly, carefully, he tells her the truth. “The letter isn’t for me.”
“It’s addressed to Lord Nightbloom.”
“It is,” he agrees. “It’s a long story, but it starts just over four years ago, when my father received that letter from Duke Drakefell.”
Selene glances back at the paper. “Your father?”
Dorian nods. “My father was no fool, and he knew to be wary of any offer from the Duke. He had no love for the man, but he was curious as to why the Duke was wanting to do business with him, of all people. He attended the meeting, and he could gather that what the Duke was looking for from him was… people.”
“People?” Selene’s brows furrowed. “Whatever for?”
“I’ll get to that,” Dorian explains. “My father is no man of business, but he is good with people, and looking out for those under his care. He wanted my father to find people in need of work, for a job in the north, paid handsomely—or so he said. My father sensed that he was in danger of getting involved in something… untoward. He politely declined the Duke’s offer, made his excuses, and left. He thought that would be the end of it. And perhaps it would have been, had the Duke and his other allies not decided that my father still posed too much of a threat. They sent an assassin after him.”
Selene can scarcely believe what she’s hearing. “An assassin?”
“Yes. Luckily for him, it was the assassin’s first solo mission. The assassin’s guild in Ashvold, they do things differently. There’s honour in killing a person that needs to be killed—one for the many, or so they say. The assassin researched his mark before attempting the kill, and found he had qualms with killing him… particularly when I got in the way.”
