The skin on my neckline sprouted goosebumps, and it suddenly got cold. I was not alone. Probably the woman with the sad eyes watched me from somewhere. Guilt nagged at me. They took everything from her—her cruel husband murdered their son. And now I was planning to steal her jewelry.
“I’m sorry, but you don’t need them anymore. And without money to escape Arthur and Cagliostro, I’m as good as dead!” I said to the gloom in the corners. The room remained silent as if someone was taking a breath. An unseen force sent a dusty perfume bottle crashing to the floor. It rolled beneath the cupboard. Curious, I kneeled to pick it up and found its gem-incrusted cap on top of a cherry-wood box.A.V., the golden initials read. I pulled it out, dusted it, and lifted the lid. Sweet Lord! A stunning diamond and pearl collar necklace rested on the black velvet inside, its value enough to buy me a house and a carefree life.
“Thank you,” I murmured and closed it around my neck, hiding the fading scar from the Hollowborn slash. The candles playfully winked at me.
It was time.
Tonight.
I was planning to take down the wards tonight after dinner.
****
Liang picked me up, and we crossed the maze of corridors.
“Dinner’s served in the Withering Hall tonight, Miss Daphne,” he said, stopping before an arched door.
I cocked a brow. “The Withering Hall?”
Liang sighed. “He has that flair for drama sometimes. Forgive him. He’s been locked here for too long.” He pushed the door open, and I walked into a vast, crumbling hall. Vines of black roses had pushed through the stained-glass windows, their spiky tendrils curling like fingers across the stone floor. Petals littered the ground like dried blood. Emrys sat at the head of a long table, the candlelight sharpening the angles of his face. His fingers were closed around a crystal wine glass. For a moment, I stood there, taking him in. For some odd reason, my throat tightened.
“Hello, little thief. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the empty seat across from him. “You look different tonight.”
I remained silent, afraid that I might reveal too much. I walked to the table, glancing around. One window—cracked and splintered—filtered the pale moonlight through the fractured faces of some forgotten saints. Tapestries of old battles hung in tatters along the walls, their reds faded to rust.
“You look different, too,” I said and pulled a chair. He watched me with a quiet attention that was too sharp as if trying to memorize every detail. The low-burning fire in the chipped fireplace gilded his profile. He smiled and looked down at his plate. Emrys poured the wine—blood-dark and rich—and I sensed something stirring behind his stillness. Like he already knew.
We ate in silence. The food was warm and decadent—roasted game, root vegetables soaked in dark honey. I picked at my plate, eyes drifting toward the vines, the stirring curtains, the crack in the glass. A raven sat motionless on the windowsill.
“Little thief—” he started.
“My name’s Daphne,” I reminded him, my voice sharper than I intended. My finger played with the large garnet ring on my finger. “What is yours?”
He chuckled. “You already know my name, Miss Daphne.”
“I mean your real name. Emrys… what?” Why was this suddenly so important? Something deep inside me knew. If I ever wanted to find him again, I’d need his full name. For some unknown reason, this thought made my chest tighten.
He looked at me, silver eyes catching the firelight. “Names are power, little thief,” he said. “Especially when they’ve been worn for centuries.”
“I told you mine,” I said, softer now. “Isn’t it only fair I learn yours?”
For a long moment, only the wind answered.
“Emrys Caerwynne. Some call me Ravenborn.”
The name settled in the air like a hush. Like a spell that had waited too long to be spoken.
“Caerwynne,” I echoed. It tasted old—like smoke and starlight, like something forgotten. Shadows stirred in the crumbling hall. “That’s not a London name.”
“No,” he said. “It belonged to another world. One with standing stones and blood oaths. With kings who ruled from the backs of war horses. I wore that name long before your cities rose.”
I stared, breath catching. “And now?” Why did my heart suddenly feel so heavy? I knew that soon, this mysterious man, this living manor with a mind of its own, the sassy bat and Liang would be in the past. Was I ready to let them go? Was this price for my freedom too high? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
A smile curled his lips—wry, hollow. “Now I wear it like a curse.”
A soft tapping drew my gaze to the window. The raven tilted its head, feathers ruffled by the breeze.
“You’re the raven, aren’t you?” I asked.
