I make a mental note to look into electroshock therapy. Maybe if I get zapped every time I get turned on from something unhealthy, I’ll finally be normal.
In the meanwhile, I need to stay as far away from Sin as possible. I don’t even care that he thinks I’m a whore. I have no intention of correcting him. Let him think the worst of me.
At least if he hates me, he’ll keep being a dick.
After the way my body responded to him choking me, I know I’m in trouble. I may never know why my brain decided that ‘Destroyers’ are its type. But regardless of the reason behind it, the attraction is there, and I refuse to breathe any life into it.
I’ve sworn off men indefinitely.
So long as Sin keeps being insufferable, I won’t have any issues. Considering the man has the personality of an infectious rash, this should be easy.
Chapter 8
Rule eight:Hit the books. Don’t throw them.
Isleep in the following day, only feelinga little guilty for not going running. Still, Damien never showed up at my door, so I assume he knows his comment broke our rule.
By the time I make my way down to the dining room, it’s vacant. The others are already off doing whatever tasks they’ve set aside for today. But rather than immediately going to find them, I pour myself a cup of coffee and decide it’s time to do more exploring. I haven’t seen much of the castle since I arrived.
Now that Sin is back, I’ve lost hope that he’d stay away for at least a few months. I can’t afford to bury my head in the sand longer than I already have.
It’s eerily quiet again as I turn down a new hallway. Floating lights like the ones in my bathroom float above ornate sconces, and their golden hues only illuminatewhen I approach. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but if Morgana’s castle is so well-guarded that only her most trusted friends are allowed in, then maybe she has information stashed away.
Information I am desperate for.
My thoughts immediately flash to a silly cartoon where the evil villain has schematics drawn out of their plans to take over the world. While I don’t think it will be quite that easy, maybe Morgana will have an office. Offices can have important documents.
I pause to open every door, keeping my steps casual, even as my heart races. My rule-breaking anxiety makes me want to weep at my new, reckless lifestyle. But if I want answers, then I need to get clever.
I come across another storeroom, a kitchen that looks completely unused, and a large hall that may be a ballroom. I’m starting to think that maybe I’ll have better luck on the second floor when I open another door and find a large sitting room. It looks a bit like the one next to the dining room, only instead of plush chairs in varying shades of gray, these couches are all a worn, tan leather. There are also two walls covered in floor-to-ceiling shelves that are bursting with books. While my heart jumps at the sight, my attention is drawn to the old wooden desk in front of the far wall to my right.
Bingo.
Closing the door as quietly as possible, I pad over to the desk, scanning everything on the surface. Everything looks neat, and I’m guessing whoever sits here is meticulous in keeping organized. While that description sounds like something that might fit Sin, the desk chair definitely would not. This must be Morgana’s.There are a few folded pieces of paper, a quill, some ink, and an orb that has a black swirling smoke dancing within it.
I don’t hesitate to open the first document. The paper is heavy, like thick cardstock, and the writing inside is in a neat script. Still, I’m disappointed to find it’s some kind of ledger with numbers and locations that are utterly meaningless to me.
The second document is more promising. It’s a letter, and it hasn’t been opened from the undisturbed wax seal. I swallow, steeling myself since I know what I’m about to do will cross a line.
I open it.
It’s dated the day I woke up here.
To Nightingale,
The Otherworld felt as though it shuddered today. While I cannot account for events that transpired outside of my immediate posting, I can attest that the Destroyer’s glow was bright enough to be seen even from my position across the city.
The Council doors have closed, and the courtiers dismissed. Even some Council members have taken to their home realms. No one knows what is happening.
Jester
I read the letter twice before carefully folding it and placing it back on the desk. While the writer used code names, it’s easy enough to figure out who they are. Morgana must be Nightingale, and if I had to guess, Damien is the Jester. He was still on rotation as a guardthe day I was kidnapped, so he would have seen Leon’s reaction.
If Morgana didn’t open the letter, does she even know I’m here?
Shaking my head at how ludicrous this entire situation is, I move to the other side of the desk and try to pull open the drawers. They won’t budge, even though I can’t see any sign of a keyhole. I chew on my inner cheek, wondering if I should try and pry one open when the air behind me moves.
I spin, finding Sin leaning against the wall behind me, arms crossed and staring at me disapprovingly.
