Page 68 of Taken By the Lord of the Nocturne Court

“Of course. I’ll be very careful, thank you.”

We chat some more about electricity, which is a concept that seems especially interesting to both Sabine and her brother, but I’m eventually alone with the handwritten tome and hurry to the nearby desk. I sit in a clam-shaped armchair and stuff my left hand into the satchel, then smile when Flap nuzzles it before resting his head in my palm.

I open the notes without ceremony, but the sight of the even, precise handwriting makes me stall on the title page signed by the Lordess Isabeu Nightweed. I don’t know what I expected from the tome, but as I browse through the pages, I find everything from descriptions of the bats’ habitat, their full scientific name beingVerspersal Lepus, to diagrams of dissections, and the setup of a typical colony. There’s drawings of the bats at various stages of their development. The young are fluffier and grow up to look more like hares with bat wings, elongated feet, and long claws with which they hold on to rocks.

It reads almost like poetry, and I find myself sinking deeper into a world full of personal anecdotes, sketches featuring favorite bats, playful names the Lordess gave them, and details about their favorite foods. But as interesting as the notes are, my mind halts when I find the mention of a familiar name.

It’s small, scribbled on the margin next to a drawing of a bat not much younger than the one in my satchel.

Should I bring one to Kyran? He’d be less alone. More research needed to see if it’s safe.

I stare at the note and read it several times, but it definitely discussesKyran, notKyranis.

My heart beats faster when I think of his childhood self stuck alone in that shadow palace and only allowed out when it was convenient for the rest of the family. Was he able to make any friends at all? Would he be let out to play instead of his brother, or would his parents be too worried that their embarrassing secret might come out?

Did he have no one to talk to? My mother was a terrible parent, but she was around at least, and I could always count on other people for company. The nice neighbor living two houses down the street would even make me lunch sometimes, when I grew a bit too thin, but who did Kyran have?

I grow determined to learn more. This here is definite proof of the truth behind what he’s told me so far. It would be nice to believe people at face value, but in my experience, sincerity is hard to come by. I was burned too many times. As long as I can confirm this though, maybe I could… trust him.

Just the thought of it makes me nervous, but I don’t have time to self-psychoanalyze, because a long red nail taps the very top of the folder in my hands.

I look up to spot a stunning elven woman reminiscent of Morticia Adams in her tight-fitting black dress with a low neckline. She smiles at me with blood-red lips.

“Luke Moor? The future Dark Companion of our prince? His promised? I am Marquise Coralis.”

Chapter 25

Luke

She’s almost too beautiful to be real, and while I’ve never had any interest in women, her grace and confidence are intimidating.

“Good… day,” I mutter as my gaze darts to the waning moon outside. I wonder if I could ever get used to the constant darkness in this realm, if I choose to stay, but I then remind myself there are more important things to focus on right now. Like the fact that she speaks to me as if I’m expected to know who she is.

Her brows furrow ever so slightly, as if I’m an object of pity. “Has Prince Kyranis not mentioned me?”

When she sits on the table by the notes, I can already imagine Sabine’s expression of fury, but the Marquise seems as at ease here, as if this is her own space.

“Should he have?” I ask, trying to hide my nerves. Has a game of word chess already started, and this is yet another opponent sent by the Goldweeds?

After nearly losing my life in the caves, I decided to heed Kyran’s warning and trust no one but those he authorizes. This woman is unfamiliar, though I have a vague sense I saw her at the execution.

Her hair is the blackest black I’ve seen and so smooth it appears wet, but there’s no water dripping from it onto her exposed bosom as she takes a deep breath.

“I know him fairly well, and he’s been quite distant since he fetched you from the other world,” she says.

Oh.

Oooooh.

My senses go on high alert. Could it be that she was Kyranis’s lover? Irrational jealousy flares up inside me even though the twin she was with has died. Is it strange to feel that way about my own lover’s brother? Just because they looked the same?

Does she hate me?

I would have hated anyone who started hoarding Kyran’s attention.

But that might be a matter of my rotten personality.

I choose to tread lightly. “It’s been quite the whirlwind,” I say, knowing it means exactly nothing. And that’s the point. I’m gonna stay neutral and say noncommittal things, so I’m not again drawn into some intrigue at court.