“I’ll speak to Avrum. He’ll have a better idea of what can be done.” It’s the only solution I can offer her for now. “Until then, I’ll try not to anger Henri and give him more of a reason to lay a hand on me. When Avrum and I can think of a plan, you will be the first to know.”
Emma lets out a shaky breath, and her eyes shine with gathering tears, but, with forced courage, she lifts her chin in the air and nods.
“Please, m-miss…” Her voice quivers. “Tell me the truth. Do you really think we can escape alive?”
I hesitate. I’d made up my mind a long time ago. I am going to escape, whether that means through death or on foot. Henri will never have me completely.
But is that something Emma wants to hear? I doubt it.
“I promise you that I will do everything I can to make sure you’re safe.” Which is true. I’d do all I could to keep her out of harm’s way. I couldn’t really promise anything else. Forcing a smile, I hope that it’s enough to comfort her.
Emma returns to washing me.
“Would you like more hot water, miss?”
I nod, sinking further into the tub. As she pours the water over me, the thought of Avrum does as well.Goosebumps crawl over my arms and I shiver, despite the newly warm water in the bath. The same questions from before replay in my mind. Am I doing the right thing by trusting him like this? Does he really want to help me escape Greystone? I can’t see another motive for him otherwise, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one there, hidden behind his mock generosity.
But still, after our encounter outside, I can’t help but wonder if he really does see me as more than a pet for his lord.
If he wants to help simply… for me.
Chapter 9
Avrum
Henri isn’t in the courtyard, or in the ballroom, so my next stop is the library. Worry gnaws at me. I hope he’s there and not in his bedroom, wondering where Haven has gone off to. Since the moment I left Haven’s room, I’ve been trying to think of a convincing enough excuse as to why Haven is taking a bath, safe, in her bedroom instead of tied up for him in his own. How am I going to lie to the man who created me?
As I walk through the library doors, my mind swims with possible lies, but none seem good enough. One of the wingchairs had been moved to face the glass and, settled there, is the silhouette of a man. The circular space is empty except for him, and when I listen in for the sound of his heartbeat, what comes to my ears is a slow, thunderous boom. The kind my immortal soul recognizes.
Henri.
As I approach on quiet feet, it makes me think of sneaking into a lion’s den, trying not to disturb theslumbering beast. It’s an accurate comparison, now that I think about it.
I hold my breath.
“Desire, desire I have too dearly bought, with price of mangled mind thy worthless ware.” Henri’s voice rises up, and I freeze in my spot. Is he talking to me?
“Too long, too long asleep thou hast me brought, who should my mind to higher things prepare.”
There’s nothing else for me to do but wait.
He continues. “But yet in vain thou hast my ruin sought. In vain thou madest me to vain things aspire. In vain thou kindlest all thy smoky fire. For virtue hath this better lesson taught, within myself to seek my only hire, desiring nought but how to kill desire.”
A weighted silence follows.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Henri asks, still not turning in his seat. It’s then that I realize he’s been reading something out loud. Whether he meant for it to be directed to me or not, I’m not sure.
Finally, Henri rises from the chair and walks around it to face me, his long fingers running up its arm, up to its back. In his other hand, he holds the book he’s been reading. It’s bound in leather, and his eyes are transfixed on the open page. The sound of his heartbeat remains at the same lolled pace, but I can feel my own speeding up.
“Sir Philip Sidney.” Henri’s dark eyes lift to meet mine over the book’s edge. “One of the best poets of his time.”
I feel myself agreeing, even though I don’t know of the man.
“Have you ever read any of his poetry?”
Wondering what this has to do with anything, Ihesitate. This feels like a test of some kind, another challenge, but then I shake my head.
With a flick of his wrist, he snaps the book shut. “I hope you aren’t bringing me bad news, Avrum,” he says instead with a brow raised.
