Page 17 of Blackwarden

Rosalin

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I stood in the hall, heart racing. The mural was.

.. different . At first, I thought I was going crazy, but the more I studied it on my way to the dining room, the more I was certain I wasn’t.

It was definitely different. The creatures had moved, and now different humans were being chased and restrained.

The demon who had been approaching me now loomed over me, reaching with hungry, taloned claws.

And there was no doubt it was me. The details were so more crisp. Nothing was hidden. I was completely naked, like all the other humans in the mural and I knew the shape of my own body, the curve of my nose, the roundness of my face, the unruly curl of my hair.

This. Was. Me.

My cheeks burned so hot I covered them with my hands, unable to rip my eyes from the image of my unclothed body, the expression on my face in the painting one of absolute terror.

Was it the Gatehouse that created this mural?

Who else could conjure my appearance so flawlessly?

Who had seen me naked enough times to be able to paint with such accuracy ?

Not even Bastion could say this.

I tried to make out the details of the beast chasing me but other than black skin, demon horns like Keres’, and a towering, toned body, the details seemed impossible to make out.

The head was turned away, leaving the face obscured by the back of its head.

A head covered by long, flowing dark hair that reached nearly to the middle of its back, hanging between massive sinewy wings.

I squeezed my eyes closed, taking long, deep breaths to try and calm my racing heart.

I needed to get to the dining room before I missed breakfast, but when I opened my eyes again, I couldn’t stop staring at the contrast between the dark monster and myself.

The fact that the face was woefully hidden, while mine was entirely exposed.

I pried myself away, rushing down the hall to the dining room. I’d have time later to sort out who and how and... who.

Keres looked as if he hadn’t slept. He had dark circles under his eyes; his lips set in a frown that trapped my questions in my throat.

He likely wouldn’t answer them anyway. Something changed yesterday.

Something happened between us when he’d held me in place with his magic.

I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me.

I resolved myself to attempt to keep my questions tucked away as best as I could, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

By the time I took my usual seat at the table he had already summoned his eggs and toast. My thoughts were still twisted up around the naked image of myself from the mural, and it took me several seconds to think of something edible.

Once I managed to summon a bowl of strawberries with clotted cream, I ate in silence, trying my best to avoid his eyes.

As soon as I’d finished my breakfast, I bolted from the dining room, determined to sulk in my suite until the next meal.

Lunch went much the same, pleasantries only, as if some code of conduct dictated that he at least asked me how my day was fairing.

I responded with short answers as I continued to hold my questions back.

But by dinner, they had begun to fester within me.

He was waiting when I arrived, hands folded on the table in front of him, the same exhaustion written across his face.

I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to push all of the confusing thoughts away.

The mural, Keres, his eyes, his hands. Keres.

Why did I burn with the need to know why he’d missed both lunch and dinner the day before? Why did I care that he looked so tired?

Why. Did. I. Care?

“Where were you yesterday?” I asked, forcing aloofness into my voice.

He tipped his head to the side, his expression unchanged. “Was I not where you expected?”

“Don’t do that?”

“Do what?”

“That!”

“I honestly don’t know what I’m doing that’s frustrating you, Ms. Greene,” he said it with such genuine uncertainty I almost believed him.

“Answering a question with another question instead of actually giving an answer.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Why did you miss lunch and dinner yesterday?”

The pause that followed drew my eyes to his, those black wells of mystery threaded with glittering silver. I hated them yet craved them at the same time.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

That didn’t seem possible, but he couldn’t lie. I reminded myself of this, over and over again as he continued to watch me before finally lifting his spoon to plunge it into the bowl of stew he’d conjured for himself. He couldn’t lie. I knew he couldn’t lie, so it had to be the truth.

But that didn’t seem like the only reason.

He took slow intentional bites, his eyes seeming to find me each time he drew the spoon from his lips.

My skin tingled and the hair on my neck rose up as he chewed with intention.

Every time he swallowed my eyes were drawn to the column of his throat.

My fingers tightened around my spoon as I imagined my teeth dragging down the length of his chest to his navel.

He cleared his throat, his eyes seeming to attempt to focus on the stew in front of him, but his breathing was... unsteady .

“Are you okay?” I finally asked.

His eyes snapped to mine, wide with shock. Fuck, I forgot. I was an idiot. He could feel my emotions.

“I’m tired. I...I just need more sleep,” he said, voice vulnerable.

Fire seared through me, heating my cheeks. I needed to smother this. I needed to reign in this attraction. As lonely as I was, I couldn’t let myself like him. He was a Dark Fae. I said the first retort that came to mind.

“You need something as human as sleep?”

He smirked at this, the surprise that had only moments ago covered his face washing away.

“I need sleep, just not nearly as much.”

I folded my arms forcefully. “So, you’ll answer that, but you can’t tell me if this is a curse? Or, you know...why my face is on the wall?”

“What are you talking about?”

I slammed my hands on the tabletop. “Don’t do that!”

Without warning, he stood, forcing me to shrink back in my chair. His eyes glowed white, his dark eyebrows drawn low in anger.

“I’ve no time for this,” he said as he turned, taking several large strides toward the door.

“No time for what? Entertaining a lowly human?” I snapped, the frustration that had been building inside me uncoiling all at once. “Answering questions you’ve encouraged me to ask?”

He paused, frozen in mid-step. I tried to keep the words from tumbling out but failed. It felt as if I’d been cracked open, anger and hurt that he didn’t trust me poured onto the floor between us .

“What’s wrong, Keres? Angry my poor, feeble mortal mind is curious? Or that I might learn something you’re uncomfortable talking about? Mother forbid I have enough information to make me truly prepared for whatever horror I’m to endure on the other side of your mysterious portal.”

He turned back slowly, shadows seeming to cling to his legs. The light in the dining room dimmed as he took one terrifying step toward me.

I’d pushed too hard and swallowed the last of my words.

“Tell me, Rosalin, what do you truly think of me? Of Dark Fae with our evil magic, our curses, and propensities to cruelty,” he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

My blood was boiling and it snuffed out any good sense I might have had. If he wanted to know what I truly thought of his kind I’d tell him.

“That you think we’re less than the ground you walk on.

That we’re lowly bugs waiting to be crushed under your shoe.

That we’re to do your bidding, to be sacrificed for your every whim.

That our pathetic, short lives mean nothing.

” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “That you’re arrogant and do whatever it is you please because you’re beautiful, and powerful, and my life is but an insignificant speck compared to the years you’ll live. ”

He took an impossibly graceful step closer to me, eyes smoldering with rage. “Do you know what I think of you?”

I struggled to hold his glare as my eyes flooded with angry tears.

“I think you’ve waited all your meaningless days for someone to pluck you from your pathetic existence.

” He took another step closer and I met his glare, wishing I hadn’t, but unable to look away.

There was hatred in his eyes. Pure fury that froze my heart in my chest. “That you humans waste your precious short lives on fortune and shallow lust, all while assuming those who are different from you must be irredeemable monsters.”

He didn’t give me an opportunity to respond, leaving me alone, trembling in anger and shame.

For a long moment I stared at his half-eaten plate of food, then sprung from my seat to follow him.

As angry as he was, I was asking for trouble.

I knew I shouldn’t push him anymore, but something told me if I did, if I pressed him just a little more, he’d break and tell me what I desperately needed to know.

When I reached the hall, it was dark. The braziers failed to light, and there were nothing but shadows pulsing along the walls as I tried to find my way.

I turned to the right in the direction of the library, and the room I’d seen him painting in, but I didn’t make it far before I slammed into a rock-hard chest and stumbled back a few steps.

Keres towered over me. One of the braziers nearby chose that moment to ignite, leaving me with the terrifying silhouette of the horns mounted on the top of his head.

“Tell me, Ms. Greene, what do you see when you look at me? A monster? A beast sent to destroy you? To drag you to a vengeful queen?”

I stared into the shadowy void of his face, my hands in fists at my sides.

I was trying to decide if I was going to answer him.

And if I did, whether to tell him what I actually saw or what I’d expected to see.

I must have waited too long because he turned, yanking the light with him.

It was so jarring I struggled to keep my feet beneath me as the world seemed to tilt and warp in on itself.

“Wait.” I cried out, stumbling to one knee as I tried to follow him down the hall. “Keres, wait.”

A door slammed. Based on the distance it wasn’t the library, but further down—likely a room I wouldn’t be able to enter.

I clambered after him and found the way clearer now that his angry shadow magic had disappeared into whatever room with him.

I tried the library first, but as I’d expected, it was empty.

A happy brazier burning as though it was just another pleasant day in the Gatehouse.

I tried the next door, but it was locked.

“Keres.” I called as I knocked. But he didn’t answer .

I went to the next door. Again, I knocked and called his name after finding the handle locked. Again, he didn’t come.

Another door. Another lack of response.

When I got to the end of the hall I stood in front of the last door—locked like the others. I was about to knock, but some piece of me knew I should leave him alone. I’d pushed too hard. I would only make him irrevocably furious with me.

I pressed my back against the wall before sinking down to the cold floor, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

I had one person in this crazy place, and I’d treated him horribly rather than assume that—maybe, just maybe—he was actually trying to help me.

I’d assumed he wished me ill when it was very likely he was trying to make my stay less terrifying before I was taken to the Unseelie Court to fulfill some ancient blood debt to a Hag Queen.

He might not have had any other choice in this than I did. If this was a curse, he was likely just as trapped as I was. And yet, I’d treated him like he’d been the man who’d called my sister’s name in the town square—or the Dark Fae who’d killed my husband.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I needed to stop treating him like a monster just because I was in this situation. I wiped the tear away and squeezed my legs one more time before climbing to my feet. I needed to apologize, or my insides might melt from the guilt boiling in my gut.

I turned to the door and reached to knock but my hand hovered.

My hesitation was almost painful, but he probably had no interest in talking with me anyway.

It was possible he’d been ignoring me this whole time.

I turned to leave and as I did the door flew open, a rush of air and shadows flowing around me.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice a tight ribbon of frustration. The light pouring from the room behind him cast his face in shadow.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out .

“What could you possibly feel sorry for?” he spat. “Berating a vile beast such as myself?”

“You’re right. I am shallow and...if this is a curse, you’re likely just as trapped as I am. I shouldn’t treat you like you’re doing this to me on purpose, and I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath, letting the moment of silence between us stretch.

“Apology accepted. Now leave me alone, human.” Keres turned back to the room he’d just stepped from and quite literally, slammed the door in my face.

Too stunned to move, I stood in place for several minutes, a mixture of fury and sadness swirling in the depths of my chest. It was how he’d called me human that hurt the most. I was a human, but the way the word slipped from his tongue was bitter, like wine turned to vinegar.

I took a few steps back from the door, another tear slipping down my cheek. This one burned my skin as it hung from the edge of my chin. He was right. I didn’t deserve his answers. I hadn’t yet learned how to see past my own hatred.

I turned and fled.