Page 194 of The Nightmare Bride
I groaned. Ididknow, because he suggested the same thing every night. “Go into town,” I recited, in unison with him—snooty accent and all.
He laughed. “Excellent. You’re catching on. Should I go get dressed, then?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you. Exactly the opposite.”
“Hmm. So I should go getundressed?”
“No. Stop.” I slapped at his shoulder, then instantly regretted finding out how solid it was. If Merron ever spoke to me again, I’d have to tell him not to let Kyven chop so much wood. “I hate that you always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Needle me. On purpose.”
“I do no such thing.” Mock scandal suffused his voice. “I only meant I’d have to get undressed, first, in order to dress for taking you into town.”
I threw him an exasperated look, but his words swirled in my mind like water around a sluggish drain.
Wouldit be so terrible to go with him, just this once? Amryssa was already asleep for the night, and the house’s cheerless halls had grown downright oppressive, lately. Thesedays, I just...itched. Spending every waking moment with this pompous prince had made me feel bound and chafing, as if my skin had grown too small to contain the errant reactions he provoked.
“Come on.” Kyven rolled toward me, all those muscles shifting in concert, which I tried my best not to notice. “I’ll take you to the theatre. Then for drinks. We’ll have fun.”
I crossed my arms, but...goddess, when had I last indulged in a drink, much less a show? My trips to town always involved errands done as quickly as possible, in an effort to minimize the whispers.
Witch, witch, witch.
But I’d never gone into Oceansgate with Kyven. And, for all that I detested him, I couldn’t deny he had a certain...magnetism. He carried a whirlwind force about him, a potency that couldn’t be contained or denied. Only endured.
Maybe accompanyinghimto town would make for a different reception. And maybe, if I got a few drinks in him, I could loosen his tongue regarding Vick.
Vick.That decided me. My bristliness hadn’t gotten me any closer to unmasking Kyven’s secrets, but maybe plying him with alcohol would.
“You know what?” I said. “Fine. As long as we’re back before Amryssa wakes up.”
Those obnoxiously blue eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Yep. Let’s go.”
He rocketed off the bed as if he hadn’t had a foot planted in the world of dreams just minutes ago. “A marital victory, at last. What a rush.” He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged minutes later, clad in such princely finery that my insides constricted.
Goddess. I would never marry—not truly, not considering what I’d soon sacrifice for Amryssa. But if I had, I would’ve wanted my future husband to look something like this.
Just...minus the part about being a liar. And possibly a sadist.
I sighed and went to my armoire. In the bathroom, I exchanged my nightgown for an amethyst dress with lace spills at the sleeves, then eyed my reflection, thankful my dagger had managed my corset laces for me. I would’ve rather flung myself out the window than asked for Kyven’s help.
When I emerged from the bathroom, he gave me an appreciative once-over. “Ready?” He offered an arm.
I ignored it. “As I’ll ever be.”
We stole into the hall and down the stairs. With each step, a fizzy lightness crept over me, a thrill that buzzed in the back of my skull. I hadn’t done anything like this in...well, ever, and I almost felt as though I’d slipped into someone else’s life. Like I was sixteen years old, escaping the watchful eyes of my parents. Shedding the burden of duty, if only for a night.
Not that I actually was. Tonight’s purpose involved coaxing some kind of truth out of Kyven. But as we slunk through the candlelit halls, I swore the shadows made way, then curtained together again behind us, the darkness itself accommodating our passage. As if we’d locked the world out of some shared secret.
Outside, the marsh’s salt-heavy tang blanketed the evening. The worst of the heat had broken, and the stars hardened to fiery diamonds. The swamp’s glow rose from the trees like spectral purple fumes.
I paused to contemplate the house’s unlit windows, then the sky. A month had passed since our last nightmare, and before that, we’d only had an eight-day reprieve. But the nightmaresusually passed through every six weeks or so, which meant weshouldhave another fortnight of peace.
Kyven drew close, as if he could sense my mental abacus clacking. “If we see so much as a cloud, we’ll hurry back. We won’t leave her alone.”
