Page 107 of The Nightmare Bride
Only once I’d reached the kitchens, where Miss Quist and Lunk bent over a bubbling pot together, did I glance behind me.
Vick hadn’t followed.
Which was cold comfort, because I had a feeling that I’d just made an enemy.
26.
Ky didn’t make it to dinner that evening, occupied as he was with the battle out on the lawn. Neither did Vick, though obviously for different reasons.
After the meal, I tracked down Lunk in the library, mostly in an effort to gauge whether or not Vick had survived.
When I asked about his absence, Lunk only shrugged. “He wasn’t feeling well. I think he went to bed early.”
“Oh. Is that all?”
“Yes. Why?” He held a hand over his mouth, like he always did when speaking to me. He didn’t do that with Amryssa, but no surprise there—she was divine, while I was just...me. “Did you need something? Should I wake him?”
I shook my head, my nerve endings buzzing. It would probably be too murdery to pray that Vick never wake again, but I went ahead and did it anyway.
“No.” I tried to sound casual. “Just wondering.”
Lunk made to move off, but I caught at his wrist. His arm was too substantial for me to circle entirely, but he got the idea and stopped. “Is there something else, keymistress?”
“Yes.” I chewed at my lip. “It’s just...seems like you and Miss Quist have gotten close, and I want you to know how happy that makes me. She deserves a man like you. Someone good.”
Crimson flared in his cheeks. “Well, she’s amazing,” he said. “Not just beautiful, but industrious. And kind. So incredibly kind.”
I risked a smile. “Then I hope you’ll stay with us. With her.”
He ducked his head. “I’d like that. It’s just...” His gaze slid away.
When I he didn’t continue, I frowned. “What?”
He rummaged in his pocket and produced a compact book. It was Miss Quist’s favorite—I recognized the sapphire cover, the scuffed and twice-cracked spine.
“I don’t know that I’m what she wants.” Lunk smiled bleakly, then opened the book and handed it over. I inspected the page, which showed a curvy woman embracing her fierce-eyed pirate lover. The hero had flowing black hair, brown skin, and glistening muscles.
“She lent this to me, but...” Lunk gestured at the drawing. “See? It’s her.”
I blinked. Huh. The heroine did indeed resemble Miss Quist, complete with blonde corkscrew curls and rosy cheeks. I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed before. “Wow. It is.”
He pointed at the pirate. “But Captain Dash...” He trailed off, and I could practically hear him proclaiming he could never compete with the pirate lord.
“I think this might be her way of letting me down easy,” he said.
I snapped the thing shut and handed it back. “No. She’s not like that, and besides. It’s just a book.”
“It’s notjusta book. Believe me, when you look like this”—he waved to indicate his face—“you grow up believing in thefictional world more than the one around you. In some ways, it’s more real. More just.”
I fell silent, not knowing what to do with that. I hadn’t grown up around books. I’d cut my teeth on pure survival, on endless worries about which berry bush would ripen first and how many mussels I could dig up to trade for candles. I hadn’t encountered the luxury of literature until I’d joined Olivian’s household and Eliana had taught me to read.
And while I thoroughly enjoyed books, I’d never considered them a haven, the way Lunk apparently did.
“But they’re just stories,” I said slowly. “Idealized versions of life, not the real thing. Because in the real world, good men wear all kinds of faces. Miss Quist knows that as well as I do.”
A sad smile stole over his features. “That’s easy for you to say when...well, when you look like that.” He made a vague, complimentary gesture in my direction.
I trailed my fingertips across the features I’d chosen. “Well. To be honest, I didn’t always look like this. I was born plain. Less than plain, actually.”
