Page 35 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
At the age of six, Quinn was diagnosed with word blindness, a disease that caused her to be unable to differentiate words and sounds. Sounding out words, understanding meaning, and decoding sentences seemed impossible. Everything blended together and became a scrambled mess. She was unable to break down the sentences and words into smaller parts to learn them.
She’d managed to keep it secret for most of her life, but if Emrys read her notes, he would figure it out.
“Everything is spelled wrong.You really can't read, can you? That’s why you refuse to do the murder briefings now?” His smile disappeared like crumbling ash.
Quinn gulped. “I can read.” Her voice was far smaller than she intended it to be.
“But you certainly can't spell.” There was the mocking she expected. He smoothed the silk lapels on his suit jacket before taking out a pen and writing something. “Can you read this out loud?”
Reading aloud. The number one enemy. A muscle twitched in her jaw as she decided if she would humor him. If she didn’t read it, he would certainly think she was an idiot. But if she did, he would also think she was stupid because it would take far more effort than it should. Quinn huffed and jerked the paper out of his hand.
It had a sentence composed of many words she hadn’t yet memorized. She knew how to read it. She knew the majority of what the note said, but she couldn't understand the words she hadn’t memorized, and she was unable to break them down into more understandable chunks. Her uncle had taught her how to take apart words and sound them out, but sometimes it wasso hard. But she had an excellent memory, and once Quinn learned a word, she would know it forever.
The sentence read:
Quinnevere Ashelle wants to help Prince Emrys find the murderer, and she thinks he is devilishly attractive, and that’s why she wants to fuck him.
Quinn refused to read it out loud and instead tossed the paper at Emrys’s face. “I think you've made your point. Can you please leave now?”
“I don’t understand. You’re clearly brilliant.” Emrys waved his hand at all the samples and the room. A fire burned at her cheeks. “How do you do all of this if you can’t spell or read?”
Quinn rubbed at her temples. He was getting on her last nerve. “I can read. It’s just . . . that it’s hard. The words and the sounds don’t make sense in my brain. But I have a good memory. And I don’t want to help you do anything. Ever. I can read it, as you can see. It just sometimes feels like an impossible task.”
“Oh.”
A stilted quiet danced through the room to the beat of a three-four waltz as Emrys stared at her. She returned to her task but still felt his eyes prickling on her skin.
“Youarebrilliant, you know,” he said, causing her to whip her head in his direction. An incomprehensible emotion gathered on his perfect face. “I need you to help me solve these murders. I am a great detective, but I can’t solve this case without your expertise.”
These murderers? There was more than one?
Quinn swallowed, not knowing what to do with these words. She didn’t—couldn’t help him. Especially not when he was a suspect.
“I am not going to stop, and I don’t think you are either,” he said. “Let’s work together.”
Quinn wasn’t sure if she could trust him. This was thefamous Emrys Avalon, who only cared about having fun and ruining things. Over the last five years, Emrys had gotten caught in three scandals that tarnished him and the crown’s reputation. He even burned down his country house in Aberdare.
Trusting him was foolish. He could be the murderer. “No,” she said. “I don’t trust you.”
“You will.” Emrys bowed his head in respect and said, “Good day, Ms. Ashelle.”
“Mr. Avalon. I mean, Your Highness.” His honorific felt foreign on her tongue.
His exit was swift and confusing. He refused to leave, yet suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get away. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled, and she wondered if she’d accidentally agreed to something she shouldn't have. She’d refused to help him, yet somehow, she knew it wouldn’t matter. He’d worm his way into her investigation.
And that was dangerous.
Any time spent with Emrys Avalon was a terrible mistake.
Twelve
The smell of fish was suffocating.
Quinn and her three friends were knee-deep in mud by the docks, trying to find clues. It was where Jane’s body had been found. So, it was the best place to start an investigation.
Action kept them all from breaking down. If they kept moving, maybe they wouldn’t have to acknowledge the truth of Jane’s death.
“Why is it so cold?” Giselle shivered and rubbed her arms to try to keep warm. “It’s only autumn.”
