Page 67 of The Court of Secrets
He sounded in my head.Let me in.
I shuddered. I knew that voice. “Go away.”
The potion drowned his next words. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to go back upstairs, to the bed where I could cuddle in Blaise’s arms and forget everything bad that was happening, but fear rooted me to the spot. The grand staircase I’d run down looked sinister under the shadows and slices of moonlight.
I veered left, carrying the heaviness that pushed down on my shoulders all the way to the library. Blaise and I had read through one of the books but found nothing before heading to bed, but there were three more. My eyes burned as I creaked the heavy door open. Shelves lined three of the four walls, with books of red spines and brown, then eventually blue. I paused by a shelf, running my fingers along the bridges between books. Gold titles stamped the spines. The smell of parchment and old books filled the room, and I smiled. The fire hadn’t burned out completely. Embers glistened red among the blackened logs and crumbling ash. I grabbed the poker, prodded the dying heat, and added some newspapers and a couple of new logs.
I grabbed two books, then sprawled myself over the ornate blue rug in front of the fireplace and carved-wood mantel. My eyes blurred from fatigue, but I forced myself to focus. I was all Morgana had to help her. A trickle ran through our bond, one forged with foresight or time. I wasn’t sure which. The fire hissed, crackling as it slowly came back to life.
I turned the pages of the ancient, leather-bound book, feeling the hours slip into each other, bringing a deeper blackness of night. I skimmed the words under the dim yellow of the oil lamps.
I found a line and connected it with two others I had read several chapters ago:Little is known about Evangeline, the firstborn of King Dorian, except for her death. Her body was found with the king’s in his study.
Sweeping the pages back, I found the line:The firstborn daughter of Princess Zalia of Berovia, Loretta, was found dead from a failed ritual of twelve sacrifices.
Then another similar:Several sons had been born before the beautiful Princess Tatiana was born to King Viktor of Berovia. His beloved firstborn daughter was murdered. It appeared she was a part of a ritual involving as many as twelve dead.
“They were all firstborn girls,” I said allowed, my breath fogging the cold air. They were all found dead in rituals, except for Evangeline, but she had killed her father, according to Blaise. She had defeated the necromancer. Blaise had said so.
Pain pinched through me, making me cry out. I gripped my nails into my legs, squeezing my eyes shut as a sharpness cracked through my forehead. Breathing through it, I rubbed my temples. I pinched the area between my index finger and thumb, a tip Morgana had taught me in some new-age medicinal technique. It helped, and the pain subsided enough to focus.
It was the necromancer. I could sense him trying to fight through the potion that forced a disconnect between us. I smiled. I’d come close. He didn’t like it.
He wanted power. Both the princesses after Evangeline had died during rituals with twelve dying. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Both were princesses of Berovia, like Evangeline. I wracked my brain on their family tree, trying to recall if there were any more daughters, but I couldn’t think straight. I did know who the most recent one was though.
King Viktor was Xenos’s father, Kiros’s grandfather. Viktor was long dead, but Kiros and Neoma survived. Even if she was Kiros’s half-sister, as he had insistently pointed out more than once, due to their clash in beliefs and dislike for one another, she was still Xenos’s daughter.
Did that mean she was in danger of sharing the fate of the princesses before her?
I kept reading until early morning had birds tweeting. The sky lightened enough to see the pastel blue. I set the book down and hurried back to bed to get a few more hours of sleep before I’d be forced to awaken.
It had been worth the lack of rest. I knew something. I didn’t know how important it was, but I was willing to bet that Kiros’s sister had something to do with the necromancer. It was a start.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lingering smoke from the fires was complemented by the scent of fresh bread wafting upstairs. Blaise stretched out, his body pressing against mine from behind. He moaned, running his hand around my stomach. I couldn’t help but smile. Turning, I twisted in the sheets to face him. “Morning.”
“I could get used to waking up like this.” He grinned, leaning in for a kiss. His lips pressed against mine. It was gentle, soft, unlike the ones last night.
“I did some thinking last night. I couldn’t sleep.”
He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger, gazing down at me. “Yes?”
“So much has happened, and I’ve not let myself have anything for me. I could have died yesterday. I could die tomorrow. Nothing’s promised.”
His expression darkened. “I’ll kill anyone before they get to you. You don’t need to be afraid.”
I pressed my lips together, smiling like a fool. “I’m not. I only wanted to say life is too short to leave things unsaid.”
His gaze softened. Vulnerability flashed in them, and my stomach dipped. I parted my lips, feeling the words I’d never said out loud form a lump in my throat. “I love you, Blaise.”
He closed his eyes and pulled me tighter. I buried my head between the blanket and his chest. His lips pressed against my collar bone, his fingers dancing through my hair. He held me as if I might disappear at any moment.
We crumpled into each other. It felt like hundreds of butterflies swarmed inside of me, dizzying me. I didn’t care about anything else at that point, nothing but him—us.
It was only when someone knocked on the door did we emerge back to reality. He growled under his breath. “We’re busy.”
“No, we’re not,” I whispered, then got out of bed. “It could be Adius.”
