Page 44 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens (The Crimson Duet #1)

Liar

H appiness.

Despite all of the troubles and danger that awaited us, I felt happiness.

What a fragile state, that grew wings onto our backs. Wings that could disappear any moment, yet we still trusted them to carry us far, far away.

The scenario I feared most brought a forbidden relief to my aching heart. I had killed a man—a human being—yet all I had felt was happiness.

Sandra would never fear his touch again. I would never see his shadows in the dark corners of my room. He was gone and only Moon knew the fate of his soul—if he even had one.

“Aren’t you handsome?” Florence chuckled when Silver rubbed himself against her leg.

She stood at the open door of my room, watching me arrange my hair for the ball.

We had barely any time to rest after our trip back home before the residents of Faris would have arrived at our doorsteps.

“Where did you find him?” Florence crouched, rubbing Silver’s chin.

Her glorious gold dress matched the sunshine smile on her face; her divine curls graciously fell down her shoulders.

“I’m not sure I was the one to find him,” I smiled, pinning up the front strands of hair off my face when the music reached us all the way from the ballroom, charging my body with a foreign excitement.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Florence exclaimed, tracing the movement of my hands. “I have something for you.” She smiled mischievously as she handed me a small pouch attached to her belt.

“For me?” My brows furrowed when I carefully pulled on the ribbon of the pouch, taking the mysterious item out.

A bronze brooch of a moth with dozens of dark green and brown beads sewed onto its wings.

“I thought you might like it,” Florence shrugged.

“It’s beautiful,” I nodded; my fingers brushed over the tracery of the brooch.

“It was my sister’s.” Florence attached the brooch to my dress next to the emerald amulet on my chest. “I want you to have it.”

“Are you certain?” I searched her eyes that shimmered from the candlelight.

“Absolutely,” Florence smiled. “Ready?”

I took a long breath in. “Ready.”

The music vibrated through my bones as I leaned on the wall in the corner of the glorious room that was now overflowing with dozens of candles and glasses of wine.

No matter the smiles on our guests’ faces, the room was filled with gloominess: the events of the last month flowed overhead like a rainy cloud. The laughter felt forced, the dances less passionate.

Simon nodded once at me when our gazes met before he returned to his drink. Florence and Roxanne were nowhere to be seen.

Caleb was still missing.

“May I ask for a dance?” Francis stretched out his hand as he walked towards me.

“No bargaining tonight?” I frowned theatrically. “Why, Francis, are you ill?”

“I am afraid I have nothing else to offer.” A small smile tugged on his lips, yet his eyes filled with a longing I had yet to witness him bear.

“Is everything all right?” I whispered.

“Please dance with me, Princess.” Nothing of the playful, arrogant man I’d come to trust was left in his voice.

“All right,” I nodded as my fingers brushed over his, accepting the request.

His hand gently fell around my waist; his fingers brushed along my skin as he spun us into a lazy dance. My eyelids closed in the embrace, letting the music sweep over me. As though an invisible strand pulled me closer to the man before me, I could never wish for our dance to end.

The music blurred into a frenzied resonance as my soul sung a song of her own: a song in a language I was yet to understand.

I cared not to think of my steps, leaving Francis as my only guide when the music seemed to stop completely. The ballroom blurred around us as I searched his hypnotizing eyes.

He did not smile as he bestowed me with the most heartbroken look I could not make sense of. He studied me as if I was a puzzle he’d been trying to solve for centuries. Admiring his features, I stared back.

“Walk with me?” Francis whispered into my ear before searching my eyes.

I nodded as he weaved his fingers through mine, guiding me away from the ballroom.

The muffled music stilled when Francis closed the door to his study behind us. An odd knot tightened around my heart as he stood before me: plea in his eyes.

“Could we talk?” Francis whispered.

“Is everything all right?” My hands fell onto his shoulders. “What is the matter?”

Francis nodded as his lips turned into a thin line. His eyes filled with regret.

“Francis?” My heart raced, skipping a few beats.

“I lied to you,” he said slowly, as though each word pained him.

“Lied to me?” I repeated just as slowly, each word scratched my throat. “What about?” I slowly let go of his shoulders, forcing a small distance between us.

“Before I tell you, could you promise me you will listen to my explanation before coming to a conclusion?” he said quietly.

I nodded, though I was uncertain I could act upon such a promise. Lied to me.

“I—” he trailed off, exhaling. “When you were bitten—”

“No,” I whispered, moving farther away from him. No, that couldn’t be right.

“No! No!” Francis shook his head, taking a step toward me. “I wasn’t the one who bit you. I swear to the Moon.”

“What is it then?” My heart banged against my rib cage: ready to flee.

“I know who bit you, Cordelia,” Francis told me carefully. “And that was the reason I brought you here.” He took a deep breath before telling me the words that burned my heart like a sunray. “I brought you here in the hope to catch your creator, to catch the leader of the Wurdulacs.”