“Are you alright?” Rul asked, turning her toward him with his hands on her shoulders.
Isabelle nodded, though it was far from the truth.
She’d considered it, of course, after the death of her father. After finding him in their cottage one day upon returning from work with a rope around his neck. That vacant expression haunted her dreams long before Bellinor did, made it difficult to sleep without the fear of seeing him that way once more. It wasn’t how she wanted to remember him, and on more than one occasion she’d wondered what it would be like to cease existing. She was alone, grieving, with no will to go on.
But it was a sin, one her father could never be absolved of.
Was he out there in le Voile somewhere, being punished for what he’d done? Or was he the skull in the forest, decaying for all eternity?
Unbearable thoughts, both of them, ones she tried to push deep down, fighting the tears burning in the corners of her eyes.
Rul’s brows were furrowed with concern, and he cupped her face with his palm, running his thumb along her cheek. He didn’t press her further, which she was thankful for, just took her hand and led her down the hallway.
“Le Voile has a powerful pull. It’s why we keep the curtains closed.”
“What happens to people out there?”
A question she needed to know the answer to, no matter how much her stomach roiled at the thought.
“They feed le Voile. It’s a living entity which requires… sustenance.”
Souls. The Veil was feeding on the souls of the people who were banished here.
“Is that what happened to Bellinor?”
Rul glanced at her as he dragged her into a parlor, getting her settled on a plush red couch. He pulled her into his arms, and she was comforted by the embrace, even as icy dread filled her veins.
“That’s something you will have to ask him.”
Isabelle wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his hands resting on her waist. It was all so horrible, the thought of someone being out there, in the dark void that had tugged at her soul, threatening to pull her in. She laid her head on his shoulder, feeling like a child in need of comfort.
It was a long while before he spoke again, his fingers brushing through her hair, almost lulling her to sleep.
“There is another room I’d like to show you. It might help get your mind off things.”
She saw the mischief sparkling in his eyes, certain this was another one of his tricks, but was desperate enough to nod, eager to think about anything else.
CHAPTER 9
WELL, THE SHOCK OF le Voile was certainly fading to the background as Isabelle examined the room, a flush burning her cheeks.
“Whatisthis place?” she breathed, hoping her thumping heart wouldn’t beat right out of her chest.
All manner of strange apparatuses filled the room, things she could only guess as to their purpose. A large wrought iron bed was the focal point, piled high with plush red pillows and dark sheets. There was a small metal birdcage, barely big enough for a person, and a large cross-shaped object with cuffs on each end. A long bench with a strange saddle sat on the other side of the room, the wall behind it lined with mirrors.
The other walls housed different objects–leather whips, cuffs, chains, and wooden paddles hanging from nails—and were painted red, the candlelit sconces giving the space a strange, menacing glow.
“It’s where we play with our toys.”
Rul stood beside her, watching her as she took it all in.
Yes, that was what she’d feared, her mouth going dry as she imagined herself attached to each apparatus, wondering what exactly Rul and Bellinor could do to her in such positions.
“Would you like to try?” Rul asked, and she turned to him with a glare.
“Are you really asking?”
She found it difficult to believe he wouldn’ttakewhat he wanted, just as Bellinor had said, no matter how much she tried to fight him.
