Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
I didn’t even know why I was thinking about any of that as I walked past a brightly colored tunic left on the floor. In a way, it felt like I was . . . I was mourning what could never be.
Walking through the rounded archway, I glanced around the bed-chamber. A breeze carried the floral and woodsy scent of the gardenias filling the tall vases positioned along the walls of the circular chamber.
Gardenias were a favorite of Claude’s.
Allyson had been smelling a lot like gardenias.
I focused on the bed seated on a slightly raised platform beneath open windows, a tremor hitting my hands. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth. My steps were light as I stepped onto the platform. Through the rippling fabric, I could make out only lumps.
My heart began to pound as I reached forward, parting the curtains.
The bed was empty.
Letting the curtains fall into place, I stepped off the platform and went to the bathing chamber. That too was empty, and didn’t appear to have been used that morning. If so, there would’ve been towels scattered about and puddles of water. Claude was messier than me.
I turned back to the bed, that dread increasing. A cool finger pressed against the nape of my neck. A tingling pressure settled between my shoulder blades.
Something isn’t right.
I took a step and it happened. Without warning, my skin prickled all over. Pressure settled between my shoulder blades as the skin behind my left ear tingled. Claude’s chamber fell away and I saw blood.
Pools of blood. Rivers of it streaming between still limbs, seeping into gold veining. Bare arms with deep gouges. So many of them, their mouths gaping open in frozen, silent horror. Brocade and jewel-encrusted masks torn, strewn across the floor. Silver and sapphire drenched in blood.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I stumbled back, bumping into the wall. I’d . . . I’d seen death.
CHAPTER 32
The vision warned of death, and the masks? The glittery jewels and gowns? The Feasts. Something terrible— something horrible was going to happen during the Feasts. I jerked forward, then halted.
Silver and sapphire.
I’d seen a sapphire necklace dripping with blood.
Naomi.
I spun, racing from Claude’s chambers. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I hurried along the opposite wing of the manor. The hall was quiet and the air stagnant. A fine sheen of sweat dotted my upper lip as I reached Naomi’s quarters. I rapped my knuckles on the door, hoping she was there. I waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. She had to be. It was still early.
“Naomi?” I called out, knocking louder. “It’s me.”
After a few moments, I heard the sound of footsteps. Relief swept through me as the door cracked and a sleepy Naomi appeared.
“Good morning.” Smothering a yawn, she stepped aside, the deep blue of her silky slip somehow unwrinkled. Only Naomi could look so stunning upon waking. “Or is it good afternoon?”
“Afternoon. Sorry to wake you.” I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. “But I needed to speak with you.”
“It’s okay. I was already half awake.” Naomi tucked her hair back from her face as she stepped over a pair of heeled slippers and thick, vibrant-colored plush cushions as she went over to a chaise and sat. “But you didn’t bring coffee with you, which is rude.”
“I didn’t even think about that.” Stomach twisting itself into knots, I glanced at the fuchsia curtains hung in the doorway to her bedchambers. “Are you alone?”
“I hope so.” She curled her legs, leaving room for me.
“Good.” I sat beside her, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. I’d come to her without really even thinking it through. I swallowed. “There’s . . . there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Without coffee? Or even tea?” Leaning into the arm of the chaise, she yawned again. “I’m not sure how much you’re expecting me to retain . . .” She trailed off, eyes narrowing on me. “Wait. Did the Prince come for you that night? I haven’t seen you since, so I’m guessing that is a yes.”
“Yes. But— ”
Naomi straightened, all the sleep vanishing from her gaze in an instant. “And what happened? I want all the details.”
“Nothing really happened— okay, things happened,” I added when her eyes narrowed. “I threw a glass at him. We sort of argued. Then he actually carried me to his chambers— ”
“I’m sorry. Back up. You threw a glass at him?”
“Yes.”
She rubbed at her eyes. “Are you a ghost?”
“What?” I shook my head. “No. He wasn’t angry if that’s what you’re getting at. He actually laughed, then carried me to his chambers, where we continued to argue . . . then talked it out.”
Naomi stared at me as if I’d admitted to being a god. “And then what?”
“And then we . . .” Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed my fingers to my temple. I thought about the night before he left. “What you said about the kind of pleasure Hyhborn can give? It’s true.”