My blood turned to ice.
Julien grabbed me again, hauling me against him. My head spun, the world blurring around the edges. Whatever she’d given me was already seeping through my veins.
“Please,” I begged, my voice slurring, eyes closing.
“Hurry,” Nelly hissed, glancing down the hall.
The last thing I felt was Julien lifting me into his arms, my head lolling against his chest, my body limp.
The walls swayed and shifted as Nelly ushered him back through the door and into the passages. The sconces blurred into streaks of orange and shadow.
The manor seemed to breathe around me, then mercifully, darkness claimed me.
Chapter 27
My eyes fluttered open, then snapped shut again as pain thundered behind them. A dull pounding filled my skull.
The air was thick with dust. Each breath scraped my throat raw. I coughed, wincing as the motion sent pain rippling through my ribs. My cheek pressed against cold stone slick with dampness, the chill sinking deep into my bones. Beneath the musty air lingered another scent. Iron and rot.
I forced my eyes open again. The room swam before my vision—a small, round chamber, scarcely furnished with a single bed, a small wood table and chair—walls curving upward into darkness. Narrow windows slanted high along the walls, letting in frail ribbons of silver light.
A tower.
The east wing, I realized dimly. The only part of the manor with such a structure.
I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness seized me, and I slumped back against the floor. My heart stumbled in my chest, and for one terrible instance, I thought I might faint again.
“Oh,” a voice cooed softly. Slippers scraped against stone. “You’re finally awake.”
The voice was light, lilting, almost cheerful. It came from behind me.
I forced my head to turn. A figure stepped into view, golden hair tumbling freely over her shoulders. No cap. No wig.
My throat burned as I rasped her name. “Nelly…”
She knelt gracefully beside me, smiling as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Best not to move, dear,” she said sweetly, combing her fingers through my hair as if soothing a child. “You’ll only make it worse.”
My body trembled. “W–why are you doing this to me?”
Her laugh was soft and airy, the sound of someone utterly untroubled. “Oh, I’m not doing anything to you, my lady. This was all Julien’s idea from the very beginning.”
Julien.
The name alone sent a spike of nausea through me so violent that I thought I might vomit.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” I whispered.
Nelly sighed as though I’d disappointed her. “I suppose you deserve to know the truth,” she sighed, standing and crossing to the rickety chair by the table. She sat, foldingher hands in her lap with an air of self-importance. “Julien and your husband are identical twins. Julien was born first, which made him the rightful heir. But…” she paused, feigning pity. “Julien isn’t what you’d call… sane.”
Her smile returned, small and cruel. “Their father sent him away when he was twelve to an asylum.”
My stomach twisted.
She leaned forward, her eyes glinting with delight. “Can you guess which one?”
Briarwood.
Before I could speak, she waved a hand. “Yes, that dreadful place. As fate would have it, that’s where Julien met your dear mother. They became… friends.”
