Chapter fourteen
CorvinstoodoutsideMothlock’sfront doors, his hand poised to level the knocker against their barred front. He glanced down at her beside him. “Don’t mind the gruffness of the other collectors. The youngest of us do most of the traveling, and that leaves the old ones behind to mildew—and you’re not made of paper.”
“I’ll try my best to seem interesting and worthy.”
“Try? You already are those things.”
The knock sounded against the door, and Lux swore she heard its echo in every direction behind it. She straightened her posture.
The doors swung inward to reveal a beanpole of a man all in black, save for his gloves, which were white. He inclined his head once he saw whom he addressed—a heartbeat before he sank to his knees. “Lord Corvin and guest. Welcome to Mothlock.”
Lux’s nose wrinkled, taken aback by the display. What was he doing, bowing before them like a sycophant? Her eyes snappedto Corvin, but the collector didn’t seem the least bit put out. Mistress Lefroy—in her relieved resurrection—Lux had almost forgiven and forgotten, but this?
Corvin didn’t move. Instead, he smiled at the man. “Manphry. I require a suite prepared for our guest. I think fourth floor, room seven would suit. Dinner, too, should be sent to our respective rooms as soon as possible.”
The man blinked twice, his eyes a washed-away brown. Like aged wood. “Certainly.”
When Manphry rose to allow them passage, Corvin gestured her in ahead of him. “And a message to Lord Kent. We will be needing his skill right away.”
Lux caught the sideways glance of Manphry before he cleared his throat. “I will see it done.”
The footman vanished on the heel of his words, and Lux stared at his vacated space. At the lacquered floors beneath her dust-spattered boots. She stepped back and noted her prints remained, marring the floor.
“Don’t worry,” said Corvin. “A place like this sees all sorts trekked through its halls. We keep a large staff for a reason. Soon, no one will have known you were here.” He followed her gaze upward. “What do you think?”
Lux stared awhile more at the massive iron ring suspended above her head, where hundreds of candles flickered a yellow light. What did shethink?She spun a slow circle.
There was too much to absorb. The deep, shadowed corridors. The intricate architecture. The way the dark banisters of the wide staircase rolled toward her like waves. The painting on the—
“Who is that?”
It was the largest portrait she’d ever seen. Larger even than Ghadra’s dead mayor’s, which she’d always thought had been inappropriately sized. It hung upon the wall at the top of thestaircase. Bordered by ornate sconces, pointed arched windows, and twin ivory statues, her initial guess was that she gazed upon a shrine.
“That would be our founder. The Overlord of Mothlock’s Society. Alixsander Osric Alesso.”
Lux moved forward without meaning to, not stopping until her boots tapped the first stair. The dead founder stared down at her, his eyes the color of midnight and his hair the same. Even from her distance, she could see his features were expressive and maybe even kind.
But…Overlord?
“He looks like you,” she said. A perfect inverse, really.
“You’re not the first to say it. We’re relations. You can look at it closer if you’d like.”
Lux turned her head at the laughter in his voice. “Are you sure it won’t swallow me up if I get any closer? How long did something like that take?” All she could think of was Shaw, painting for days—maybe weeks—on end.
“I couldn’t say. But you’ll be safe, I swear. I was told Alixsander didn’t have a modicum of ill-will for anyone in life. I don’t believe his portrait does either.” Corvin gestured her up the stairs.
Lux acknowledged it and placed her hand on the banister. She began to climb. All the while, she kept her eyes trained upon the portrait. As it drew nearer, she realized how young he appeared. Older than her but probably no older than the man beside her. She reached the landing and stared up at his frozen features.
“He founded your society while so young himself?”
She glanced at Corvin and saw he studied it too. A tick had worked its way into his jaw, and she watched it feather until he noticed her stare. He returned his attention to her with a smile that wasn’t quite happy. “He founded it young, and died young too.”
“What happened?”
“Murder.”
Lux blinked, caught off her guard. “Tragic.”
