Lux halted so quickly, Corvin’s hand nearly slipped from hers. He stopped ahead of her. One light eyebrow rose.
“I’d…” She drew a shaky breath. But it was awful—why had tears sprung to her eyes? “I’m sorry. I thought I had imagined all of that.”
No,she was going to fall apart. Right here, on this landing.
“Gallant for a delegate, carrying you that way. Tell me—do you know him?”
Ithadbeen Shaw. His hands. His arms. His chest. Her chin trembled, and quelling it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Did sheknowhim?
Devil take her.
Would Shaw have lied over this question? He’d come here dressed in finery, an invitation secured. Why would he have gone through the trouble? It did not make sense for him to do it.
Ah. There was her answer.
“No. No, I don’t know him.”
A slight tug on her hand brought her close. Corvin stared down at her. And she wondered, briefly, if he didn’t believe her, if she had guessed wrong. A hardness entered his eyes. His lips curved.
“Well then, I’ll see you introduced. You must be curious how your city is fairing in your absence.”
Lux began to tremble in his grip. There was no earthly reason he wouldn’t feel it. “I won’t be managing anything other than sleep for tonight.”
His gaze dipped. “Blessed Saints, you’re shaking. I wish the stones had stayed put so you might have slept soundly. But since they didn’t, I think you should rest the day tomorrow. I’ll send Hildred to you for dressing come evening.”
Goosebumps erupted on her arms at the mention of that name. “And your other plans?”
Hetsk’d. “Artemis shouldn’t have sprung this on you. Please worry over nothing tonight.”
Lux didn’t respond. Once they’d taken to the stairs, it was at the fourth-floor balcony that she gazed again upon Alixsander below.
“You said you were a descendant,” she mentioned quietly.
Corvin followed her stare. His grip tightened on her hand for all of a breath before it relaxed. “I didn’t want to frighten you off. People are already wary of us. There are rumors—of curses, entrapments, and unnaturally long lives. They’re all true, of course, but not in the way they think. Forgive me the lie that day, Lux. He is my brother.”
Chapter thirty-three
Luxforgothowlongshe’d soaked, but the water was cool.
The room blurred around her. She could not focus on any particular spot. Her hair hung over the lip and had begun to dry.
The Collectors of Mothlock were cursed. They collected books then redrafted those books to fit their beliefs. They believed they could achieve perfection. They believed they could become Saints.
They are older than Riselda.
Was the Grimrook family really dead from disease, or did they argue the point?
Lux ran her nail along her teeth. All of that, she could deal with—maybe—but not the staff. Empty, soulless, should-be-lifeless. What sort of brilliance managed something likethat?Nothing she wished to partake in, and she bit down on her finger in sickened worry. Would Cecily be transformed next?
The nightmare creature crouched in the corner. Its head had turned at one point into an unachievable angle. It whispered to Lux in between her own spiraling thoughts.
About all the horrible things she’d done.
About all the horrible things she would yet do.
About what a monster she was.
Lux hated it so much, she wanted to drag her skin clean off. Wanted to snatch out her brain herself.
