Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Good. It’s about time,” Silas says, eyes intent on me.
“I wasn’t looking for your approval.”
“Yes,” he says.
“No, I—”
“Yes, I bought your house,” he says. I stare up at him, my mouth agape.
“Why?” I finally manage to ask.
“Come, Ophelia,” he says, a note of tenderness in his tone.
“Why would you do that?” He overbid on the house. The buyer paid almost double what it’s worth.
He shrugs a shoulder as he leads me to a staff corridor. This time, he doesn’t have to force me along. He opens the door at the end of the hall. “It’s yours, isn’t it?” he asks.
“I don’t understand.”
“I may not be a good person, Ophelia, I may be the villain you accused me of being, but I will always be there to rescue you, whether you think you need me or not.” I am stunned into silence. What he said feels raw, naked. Honest. I wonder if he’s been thinking about my calling him a villain ever since I said it.
I wish he wasn’t wearing that mask. I wish we were somewhere quiet and alone, and we weren’t wearing masks at all, and I could see if what I think I see is real. And he could see that ache that I know is written on my face. If he did, he would see that for me, it’s more real than anything else in my life. He can’t know how much those words he said to me after finding the ring in my pocket hurt. How much they still hurt. The wound they left is still raw. And right now, all I want is for him to know that.
“Silas?”
He takes a deep breath in, then turns to lead me up the stairs. The room is located above the stage upon which the orchestra is situated. From here you can see out into the ballroom while remaining unobserved. I wonder if this was where he’d been watching me from, like some sort of phantom. It’s a storage room of sorts full of dusty curtains and tablecloths, boxes upon boxes of dinnerware, crystal and silver service, the works.
“Do you remember what happened the last time we were here?” he asks, turning me to face him so the small window is at my back. He unties the ribbon that holds my mask in place and sets it aside, taking his off and placing it beside mine on the empty stool nearby.
God. He’s so beautiful. Even with his crooked nose and the scar on his temple.
“Do you?” he prods.
I bite my lip, nod. Of course, I remember.
He’d been up here when I’d come last time.
Ever since I was little, my father used to bring me to The Sinistral for a very fancy high tea once a week. Often, he would meet with business associates, and as I grew older, he’d leave me to entertain myself during those hours. I’d take my book and wander the grounds, outside during the summer months, inside during the winter. When I’d found this small, forgotten room, I’d started spending more and more time up here, lying on the chaise, which still stands covered with a dust cloth along the far wall, reading my books. When the staff were setting up for events below, I’d spy using my binoculars.
It's not those days Silas is asking about, though. The last time the Foxes had thrown the gala, I’d been excited about seeing Ethan after so many months, excited for him to see me, see how I’d become a woman. But I’d learned pretty quickly that Ethan wasn’t remotely interested in me, not any more than formalities and polite inquiries, a dance, whatever his parents decreed he must do.
Ethan was the only boy who had ever really paid attention to me. Going to an all-girls school doesn’t exactly help in that department, and I was extremely shy to boot, but it was more than that. From the moment the Foxes moved in next door, it was almost as though he and I were being groomed for a future chosen for us. A future that maybe didn’t take into consideration our feelings. The fact that we never did fall in love with each other.
Anyway, I’d been young, and I hadn’t known then what I know now. I was a senior in high school, and by then, he’d been away at college for two years. Of course, I knew he had girlfriends in that time. It’s not like we were a couple. When he came home, he hung out with me. After the time Silas found us in his bedroom, he never really did more than hold my hand or, now and again, kiss my cheek.
If I think about it, I’m not sure Ethan is even really attracted to me. I’m not attracted to him. Because as I look up at the man standing just a few feet from me, I recall what he said to me the other night, asking about Ethan. I can say one thing for certain, and it’s a thing that’s never changed. When Silas so much as looks at me, butterflies take wing in my belly and my heart begins to beat at an unnatural pace. It’s something I’ve never felt with anyone else. Never. It’s only ever been Silas. It’s always been Silas.