With a sigh, I pull my legs up underneath me and get comfortable because I know that whatever this plan is, I’m not going to like it.
7
Azalea
Iwasright.Iabsolutely hate Rhoden’s idea. To put it in simple terms, the plan is, more or less, to befriend Braxton, something I made very clear I was vehemently against.
Rhoden’s theory is that if I start playing nice with Braxton, he will let his guard down, and once that happens, he will stop watching my every move like he currently does. Once I’m no longer being monitored, I will ideally be able to start working through the documents in his study to try and find our curse contract.
I asked Rhoden how she knew he would still have the contract, and she assured me that any contract forged through magic cannot be destroyed. Destroying the contract in and of itself would break the deal.
I perked up at the thought that I wouldn’t have to demand retribution from the curse if I could simply destroy the contract. However, Rhoden informed me that apparently destroying magical contracts, especially those dealing in complex curses like mine, is nearly impossible even if I have magic on my side, which I don’t.
After getting a splitting headache from the thought of how I was going to fake being friendly with Braxton, Rhoden told me to sleep on it.
So here I am now, staring up at the ceiling in my room, with nary a thought bouncing in my head as the sun washes over my olive skin. When Rhoden left last night, she took the vase of forget-me-nots with her, but I know when I finally choose to get up, I will have a new vase filled with a fresh crop of flowers staring back at me. I’m not sure when I fell asleep or how long I slept, but it must have been long enough for someone to slip inside and drop off the dreaded bouquet.
I contemplate throwing my feather down comforter over my head and closing the world out for the day, but I know in a matter of minutes, I will have Rhoden banging her tiny yet mighty fist against my door.
Groaning, I aggressively rub the exhaustion from my eyes. I have to admit, there is one tempting part of Rhoden’s plan, and that’s the part where I don’t fight with Braxton every single day. As much as I love getting under his skin, being a bitch is exhausting work.
Knowing that Rhoden will be here soon, hopefully with an array of breakfast pastries, I decide to get a proactive start on our discussion. Detangling myself from the covers, I tumble out of my bed and groggily sit down at my desk. Grabbing my well-used ink and quill, I begin writing down everything I can remember about the curse, which is, unfortunately, a fairly short list.
Curse Details
Curse was crafted because my father owed Braxton a debt.
If I try to leave the castle grounds all my loved ones will die.
I’ve been here for
My hand stills, and a large splotch of ink stains the milky paper as I think. I realize I have no idea how long I’ve actually been in the castle.
Closing my eyes, I try to relax my mind and focus. I can see the crystalline water of the shore where I once lived. I can see my father’s smiling face. I can practically feel my fiancé’s calloused hands as they roam my body. Sweet celestials, I miss those hands. I miss the rough feeling of them gliding over my smooth skin. I can only imagine how painfully soft Braxton’s hands must be, having never done a hard day’s work in his life.
My mind seems to latch onto the thought of Braxton, and suddenly his deep chocolate gaze fills the backs of my eyelids. His hair is tousled, messier than I’ve ever seen it, and he has a beaming smile on his face. Something else I’ve never seen. The sun is splattering across his pale skin, and he’s laughing. Truly full-on belly laughing. The sound is musical, borderline whimsical, and I feel my lips involuntarily tilt upward.
Is he laughing at me? Is he laughing with me?
Regardless of the answer, I continue to watch him, feeling almost mesmerized by his bliss. That’s when I notice that he’s missing one of his tattoos. His right arm is bare, even though there should be an inked bouquet of forget-me-nots on the back of his bicep.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes shoot open, and I clear my throat as if I had been caught red-handed doing something I shouldn’t be. Before I have time to process anything that happened within the inner workings of mymind, another knock echoes through my room, this time more impatient.
“Oh, just come in then!” I yell, hoping my words sound more playful than tense.
As expected, Rhoden comes into my room, tray in hand.
