Page 53 of Once Charmed, Twice Cursed
The duke strides to the door and opens it. “And in case you’re banking on your luck saving you, it won’t. No amount of kismet can unlock four deadbolts. Which is exactly what’s on the other side of this door.”
My throat thickens. I try to wall off the tears, but they overflow without my permission, carving hot paths down my cheeks. “You can’t do this. My brother?—”
“Thinks you’re still lost in the woods. And will continue to do so until you’ve become my wife.”
I fist the sheets so hard my hands ache. “No. Just…use Ramses. You don’t even need me.”
The duke raises an eyebrow.
I glare at the man who snatched me from the woods. From my almost-happiness. “Takehimto your office. Use his luck to sign your contracts.”
Alverton sighs. “Oh, Miss Bria. Ramses is only a procurer. Now that you’ve been procured, he’s off to his next job. Besides, you and me should establish our routine sooner rather than later, don’t you think?”
My limbs go numb and heavy. Dread settles over me like a shroud.
“Don’t argue with him, pet,” Ramses says.
I hiss at him. “You. Why’re you even helping him?”
“Because.” He peers at his fingernails and shrugs. “Ramses said so already. He likes to do what no one else can.”
“You’re evil,” I say, but the sob that ruptures my voice halfway through robs the accusation of power. “I knew it the moment you touched me.”
He smiles in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Hurts the first time, doesn’t it? All that luck in one place. It’s like shoving two positive sides of a magnet together. But the sting...” His voice drops to a purr. “It starts to feel good, the more times you do it. Ramses likes it now. You should try it again, some time.”
My tears flow faster. I wonder if he was always mad, or ifsomething about touching other Charms made him that way. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Maybe.” His grin slashes white in the dimness. “But right now, Ramses suggests you be a good girl and put on that wedding dress. Fighting will only make it worse for you.”
“Wise words,” Alverton adds from the doorway.
My chest burns itself to ashes. I want to scream. To rage. To rend the fear and hopelessness brewing inside me to ribbons.
The duke clicks his tongue. Ramses tips his hat to me, then strolls out.
“This is wrong,” I shout through my sobs. “This is inhumane.”
Alverton lingers in the doorway. His eyes are impassive, almost fond. “No, my dear. This is business.”
The door closes with a click of finality.
Chapter Eighteen
Idon’t know how much time passes.
At first, I wander the room, hunting for something I can fashion into a lockpick, or for a forgotten, hidden passageway that might grant me an escape.
But beneath the gilt and gaudiness, the chamber proves oddly sterile, the furnishings restricted to a bed and wardrobe and table. And a chamberpot, which is inconveniently fashioned from ceramic and therefore useless for trying to smash open the door with.
Every drawer I search is empty. Aside from the wedding dress, the wardrobe proves bare, too. It’s as if the place was scoured clean before being repurposed as a prison. Probably by Ramses himself, because anything that might grant my luck a foothold has been removed.
Only another Charm could find every last bauble and leave me with no advantage. His luck has clashed with mine and emerged victorious.
I manage to sleep a little, dreaming fitfully. Some time later—it’s morning again, I suppose—the duke strides in.When he sees me hunkered in the corner, still in my yellow dress, he shakes his head and promises to check again tomorrow.
I turn my face away as the door closes. My throat burns. Time stretches, endless and taunting.
After another hour or five, I try the door. I jiggle the handle a thousand times, until someone on the other side shouts at me to give it a rest. I have a guard, apparently, which comes as no surprise—even with four deadbolts keeping me in, Iama Charm.
