Page 119 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘Emrys—’ I barely breathed, before a clattering crash stole all other words from me, making me jump out of Emrys’s arms as he stepped back. Leaving me feeling oddly hollow.
‘Bloody saints !’ came a yell from between the bookcases, whatever awful stupor had consumed us vanishing.
‘William?’ I rushed around the corner, finding him looking down sadly at a ruined breakfast tray in the doorway to the study, the contents scattered across the entryway.
‘Half the sodding floor just came up !’ he groused. ‘I could have broken my neck !’
‘Here.’ I dropped to a crouch, turning the tray over and gathering up the shattered remains of plates and cups. I could have used my magic but my hands weren’t quite steady yet.
‘Bloody house,’ William muttered, pulling a rag from his apron and trying to stop the tea from seeping down a large crack in the floorboards. Then his head darted up just as I felt the brush of Emrys’s magic down my spine.
‘This came under your guest-room door from Fairfax. I think Lord Percy is looking for you.’ William held a small letter out from his apron. Emrys took it carefully, his face troubled once more as he considered the mess before us.
‘You should go,’ I offered softly, those grey eyes coming to me instantly. ‘The last thing we need is them asking questions.’
‘Kat can help me with the cleansing charm. I think I’ve found something that will work with the soil.’ grinned in agreement, oblivious to the intensity in Emrys’ tense form.
Emrys remained silent, that letter curled into his fist. Hesitant. Too many things unfinished and unsaid.
‘I’m certain I’ll find you later.’ I smiled as I got back to my feet, something about the offer seemed to make the decision for him as he excused himself and left us. I tried to ignore the stinging bite of longing in my chest.
‘Where is Alma?’ William asked curiously, trying to balance all the shattered remains back on the tray.
‘Probably gutting Thean.’ I sighed, knowing I should probably be more worried for her, but Alma could handle a nosy voyav better than I could.
‘Thean?’ William’s eyebrows shot up, but I was already turning him by his shoulders back to the kitchen.
‘Never mind.’ I sighed, not wanting to think about any more of my mistakes. ‘We should get to work. The sooner this is over the better.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
A storm arrived late afternoon that forced the hunting party back to the house. Lord Fairfax – in a joyous mood – had started the evening entertainment early, drinks poured, the band was filling the dilapidated ballroom with music, the guest’s laughter excruciatingly loud.
After the drama of yesterday, everyone was quick to pretend I didn’t exist and I noticed noticed most of the ladies had refrained from wearing jewellery.
I’d kept myself aloof, especially when Emrys had appeared. Mainly so I didn’t think about what had happened in the study. Madness indeed.
I touched the flowers Alma had woven into the braid at the back of my hair, trying to give my scalp some reprieve as I looked down at my beautiful deep-indigo dress, feeling sad it had been so wasted with how eager I was to drop it onto my bedroom floor, sink between the sheets and forget about another horrid day.
I let my eyes drift over the bland landscape paintings on the walls of the ballroom more interested in how the dust collected in the corners of the frames. Small mortal pieces, colours muted and grey. Letting my fingers drag across the peeling picture rail, as I moved to one of the large alcoves with a few measly books on the shelves.
My boredom was replaced with a horrid stinging cold at what stood before me. A collection of display frames. Pinned there by their small beetle wings, dull and dusty with decay, was a small display of folk. Their tiny acorn heads and moss bodies trapped inside the frames.
Something hurt so deep inside me, buried in the marrow of my bones. How something so innocent and free of malice could be hurt so viciously. How endlessly cruel this world could be to creatures that were filled with nothing but innocence and hope.
Please, a younger voice pleaded in my memory so desperately. My own.
As I looked at those little creatures, all I saw was Alma’s small pale bruised hand reaching for me across filthy stone. The creaking wood of those wheelbarrows as they took more small bodies into the wood outside Daunton. The reek of damp soil and decay. Only to be chased away by the finality of flame and smoke I could still taste on my tongue.
Haunted by how I could save none of them.
I was too late once again. So slowly I rested my finger against the dusty glass, taking in every sharp bite of the little things’ pain.
‘Marov,’ I whispered.Rest nowin the old tongue. The last blessing as the smallest lick of flame from my finger turned the remains to ash that glistened as if made of glass at the bottom of the frame.
Free.
‘Strange little things, aren’t they?’ The brittle voice of Lord Fairfax came from behind me as I let my hand fall to my side, forcing my anger down to sour in my gut along with the cheap wine.
