Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“And what do you believe?” Rylan asked from where he still stood by the door. “Because I’m unsure how a Descenter could’ve managed to inflict wounds like that without leaving blood.”
“Agreed,” Vikter murmured, watching me. “There would be no way to clean something like that up, especially not when the victim had been seen less than an hour before.”
“So, why would the Duke insist it was a Descenter?” Tawny queried. “He’s not unintelligent. He would have to realize that, too.”
I casually placed my hand on the back of Vikter’s neck as I reached for a small fur quilt. His skin was warm and dry as I thought of the beaches and my mother’s laugh. I knew his pain was eased the moment he took a deep, shuddering breath.
“I’m unsure why the Duke believes this, but he must have his reasons.” Vikter’s gaze was grateful as I slipped my hand away and walked back to the chair, placing the throw in my lap.
Tawny looked over at me and then took a deep breath before she refocused on Vikter. “Do you know who she was?”
Sitting straight, he was definitely more clear-eyed when he spoke again. “She was identified by one of the servants. The victim’s name was Malessa Axton.”
The name was unfamiliar to me, but Tawny whispered, “Oh.”
I twisted toward her. “Did you know her?”
“Not well. I mean, I know of her.” She gave a small shake of her head, sending several curls free from her twist. “I think she came to Court around the same time as I did, but she was often with one of the Ladies who lives on Radiant Row. I think it’s Lady Isherwood,” she added.
Radiant Row was the nickname given to the row of homes closest to the castle and to Wishers’ Grove park. Many of the opulent houses were owned by the Ascended.
“She was so young.” Tawny lowered her hand to her lap. “And she had so much to look forward to.”
I reached out with my senses and found that her sadness echoed my own. It wasn’t the deep pain of loss that came when it was someone you knew, but the sorrow that accompanied any death, especially such a senseless one.
Rylan asked Vikter to step outside. After a few moments, Tawny excused herself to return to her room. I managed to stop myself from touching her. I knew if I did, I would take her pain, even though I’d done it before without her realizing. I ended up at the window, staring at the steady glow of the torches beyond the Rise when Vikter reentered.
“Thank you,” he said as he joined me by the window. “The ache in my head was starting to get the best of me.”
“Glad I could help.”
“You didn’t have to. I have the powder the Healer made for me.”
“I know, but I’m sure my gift brought you much faster relief without the dizziness and sleepiness,” I said. Those were only two of the many side effects that brownish-white powder often caused.
“That is true.” Vikter fell quiet for several moments, and I knew his thoughts were as troubled as mine.
I had a hard time believing that it had been a Descenter, even though I imagined something like an ice pick could’ve made those wounds. However, the possibility of stabbing someone in the jugular and not getting blood everywhere seemed very unlikely, but even more baffling was the motive. What did creating those types of wounds indicate that was of any benefit to their cause? Because the only thing I knew that could make those kinds of wounds went against everything the Descenters believed in.
“Rylan spoke to me.”
I looked over at Vikter with raised brows. “Yes?”
His sea-colored gaze flickered over my face. “Rylan told me about Lord Mazeen.”
My stomach sank as I looked away. It wasn’t as if I had forgotten my run-in with the Lord, but it simply wasn’t the most concerning or traumatic thing to have happened in the last couple of hours. “Did he do anything, Poppy?” he asked.
A suffocating, stinging heat crept into my face, and I pressed my cheek to the windowpane. I didn’t want to think about this. I never did. Nausea churned, and there was this…weird embarrassment that made my skin feel sticky and dirty. I didn’t understand why I felt that way. I knew I’d done nothing to gain the Lord’s attention, and even if I had, he was still in the wrong. But when I thought about how he felt entitled to touch me, I wanted to scratch at my own skin.
And I didn’t want to think about how I’d been grateful for the servant’s screams, having no idea what the cause had been.
I pushed all of that aside so it could later come to the forefront, most likely when I was trying to sleep. “He did nothing other than be an annoyance.”