Page 23 of Her Shadow so Dark and Lovely
The poisoning wasn’t an accident, was it?
My hands shake at the thought of it. I had almost died. Othershad. Those men, the dead Lightkeepers, had recognised me.
I think of my sister sitting on my desk. An unpleasant suspicion grows in me.Hecouldn’t be bothering with me now after so long, could he? Surely not. I redirect my thoughts— I can’t think of Orielle or the court right now. My relationship with her is fraught, but I can’t fathom that she might try to kill me. It doesn’t seem right, but how well do I really know who she has become? How well does she know me?
“I do not think so. I think the men I killed this evening were tidying up loose ends. The scribe they killed must have been tangled up in it.” Sila pauses, frowning. “I’ll need to go and clean that up before the day starts, or Mercias will have a fit. Not, of course, that he has any grounds for it after his most recent behaviour.”
I don’t understand how you fit into it.
I still don’t quite understand howIfit into it. There is nothing special about me. The Dawn King had confirmed as much when he let me leave the Keep. Only an incident with a book. And a space of memory, wiped clean. Fuck. I should have been more curious about what else was missing. I’d been so focused on the book, I hadn’t even considered what might have happened in the vacant space in between. Had I done something to cause this mess? The dreadful mass of the curse shifts in my chest. Or is this the past finally coming back to haunt me?
I flinch as Sila’s cool fingers brush my skin. The light catches on the scar across her palm. She cradles my face in her hands as if it is a precious thing.
“Little mouse,” she says, softly. I had gotten caught up in my thoughts. “There you are.”
Sorry.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” she says. “If anything, perhaps I do. I was tasked with watching the scriptorium. I was told I would know my mark when they appeared. I know no more than that. I do not know why you are considered a threat, and when it came to it, for the first time in my long life, I did not want to do it. I could not do it.”
My stomach churns and my skin goes cold. The curse mark feels ice cold, and the chill of it prickles across my skin.
Someone gave you an order? The Library?
“No, not the Library,” says Sila, hesitating. My silent breath catches. Surely she is not an agent of the Keep, too. “My queen.”
I stare at her.
What? A queen? There is no queen.
Sila shakes her head. “For as long as there have been sacrifices, there has always been a queen, too.”
That doesn’t make any sense.
I have bound myself to a woman who thought a queen had ordered her to kill me. Sila has surely taken leave of her senses. And yet, she had made a bargain with me with horrific shadowy powers the likes of which belonged in myth and faetales. My horror must show in my expression, because her face closes off to me and her hands slide away.
“There is more to the world than your understanding, scribe,” she says, her tone cold. It’s all too much, all at once. There is only the King. None of this makes any sense.
“I need to go clean up the mess and find you something to eat. There is a washroom off the bedroom if you wish to use it,” she says, turning away from me. “You can sleep in the bed. I never use it these days.”
I don’t want her to go. I don’t want to be left alone here. I reach out to stop her and the fabric of her shirt slips through my fingers as shadows wrap around her. When they dissipate, she is gone and I am alone with only my whirling thoughts for company.
Chapter 13
Sila
I emergefrom the shadows in Mercias’ living quarters. His space is neat and orderly, as if he hardly spends his time in here. It is different to mine, a lot of dark wood and ornamental cut-outs, and everything made to feel sturdy and sombre. There is very little delicate about it. I imagine the most delicate thing in here is likely blond, scribe-shaped, and in his bed.
“Mercias,” I call, crossing my arms over my chest.
There’s an emphaticfuckfrom the bedroom. All the Librarians have fae blood— diluted by millennia, but still there. That is true of most in the Citadel, and it is what gifts them their magical inclinations. Before he became a Librarian, Mercias had other abilities. When he had pledged himself to the Library and become a Librarian, he had exchanged them for a greater boon. Still nothing like the power I wielded, of course, but useful enough.
Unfortunately, he still requires impractical things like sleep. Well, that is too bad. I need him.
“You’re keeping me waiting, Mercias. You know I am not a patient woman,” I call out again.
“You’re not a woman, you’re a fiend,” Mercias hisses as he shoulders through the door, pulling his cloak on. “Sent from the dark as my personal torment.”
I smile at him. “I need you to help with a cleanup.”
