“Hello?” Corabeth called into the darkness that enveloped the rest of the room.
A beat of silence.
“Have a seat,” said Rooke from the darkness, and Corabeth nearly jumped out of her skin. The voice came from the other end of the table. His shadow blended into the darkness so seamlessly.
Placing a hand on her chest to calm her beating heart, Corabeth walked over to the spot set for her and sat.
“Are you always in the dark?” she asked, taking in the picture before her. A single silver fork and knife, a large white plate covered by a silver lid, a crystal glass with water, and a matching stemmed glass with a dark red liquid. Wine, she guessed.
“Mostly, yes,” Rooke replied evenly.
“Does the light bother you?” Corabeth asked and looked into the darkness, where she could vaguely see his shape.
“No, I simply have no need for it,” he said. “Would you prefer it if you could see me as well?”
“It would help, yes,” Corabeth admitted, smoothing down her skirts to give her hands something to do.
All at once, candles flared to life on the opposite side of the table, although Rooke had not moved a muscle. His stoic figure remained in the high-backed dining chair.
Chills ran down Corabeth’s body when she saw his black eyes trained on her. The candlelight made his inhuman features onlysharper, more pronounced. She wasn’t so sure if light had been such a good idea.
Nine
Corabeth
“Please, dig in,” Rooke said, “I hope you excuse the simple meal. It’s been a long time since I’ve hosted.”
Corabeth hesitated for a moment. Then nodded and lifted the silver dome from the plate, revealing what she guessed was a piece of seared steak with oven-roasted potatoes and carrots. The scent had her mouth watering in moments.
The silverware scraped against the plate with a shrill screech that made her teeth clench as she cut into the meat. There were no sounds coming from the other side of the table. Corabeth could only feel the weight of his gaze.
“Are you not eating?” she asked when she had swallowed the first piece of the succulent steak.
“No, I’m still full from my previous meal,” Rooke replied.
A log snapped in two in the jaws of the fire.
Corabeth continued to eat in silence under Rooke’s scrutinizing gaze, but she managed barely half the portion, her stomach not used to large, rich meals. She dabbed her lips with the napkin, placed it on the table next to her, and reached for the wine instead.
The silence dragged on.
“So,” she said, finally growing weary of the tension, “Why are you doing this?”
“What exactly?” Rooke asked, his brow ticking upwards slightly.
“Keeping me here,” Corabeth specified.
An amused smile spread on Rooke’s pale face. “I’m not keeping you here. You’re free to leave whenever.”
“I suppose I expressed myself incorrectly. Why are you letting me stay here? You must have some intentions? You must want something?” she questioned.
Rooke peered at her curiously, tilting his head slightly.
“Is that your experience with people? They show kindness because they want something from you?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.
Corabeth swallowed. “That would require people showing kindness at all.”
Rooke’s head tilted further, his brow furrowed, as if he was trying to solve some puzzle.
