Mark of Betrayal (Dark Secrets #3)(36)
Author: A.M. Hudson

Arthur looked down; his long lashes hiding his blue eyes. “The world cannot hurt him any longer, my dear.”

But that wasn’t enough for me. My chest shook and my face crumpled; I barely had time to cover my mouth before it all came out in a torrent of tears. “Oh, Arthur. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.”

“I know, my dear. I know.” He gently wrapped his arms around me, letting me sob, my whole body shaking in his arms.

“I don’t want to feel anything for him. But he was so real. He was real and he got hurt, and no one made it all okay for him. And I keep telling myself it’s the spirit bind that makes me care, but it should be gone by now. I’m strong. I’m a vampire. The bind should be dissipating by now.”

“Has—” He sat me up a little and looked into my face. “Have your feelings toward Mike eased?”

I nodded, my tears stopping for wide eyes. “Like, heaps. I feel normal around him now.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Then you must grieve Jason, Princess. Grieve him and the pain will ease.”

I shook my head against his jaw, covering my whole face with my hands. “It doesn’t help. I’ve cried for him. I’ve cried for everyone I’ve lost, and it doesn’t change how much I love them.”

“And it probably never will. But it will do you no good to deny your broken heart, either.”

I hiccupped a few times, sniffling. “Arthur?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”

“That I dreamed of him—that…that I cared for him.”

“I wouldn’t even consider it, Princess. Our conversations—all our conversations—remain private.”

“Thank you,” I said in a quiet whisper against his shoulder.

When the tears finally settled, exhausted from all the things in my head, I laid back on the grass, with Arthur beside me, and we watched the clouds move slowly across the blue sky. The simplicity of the moment brought a kind of ease to my soul I’d not felt since I was human.

Petey eventually came back from his all-important crow-chasing activities and laid beside me—my last connection to a man I wished I’d admitted I cared for when he could have heard me say it.

Yesterday afternoon’s training left me exhausted. By the time I finally fell into bed, after a long dinner—entertainment being the heated political debate between Arthur and the Lilithians—I pretty much passed out. Didn’t even have any dreams; no scary ghost version of me and, to my disappointment, no memories of Jason. I wondered if I’d seen them all now—if I’d removed all the mind blocks he left in place. And that idea made my soul feel empty, disconnected.

I ran the brush through the lengths of my hair, watching each movement through the mirror of Arietta’s dresser, then picked up the perfume bottle by my hand and sniffed it. Nope, no garlic. I had cornflakes for breakfast, and I was pretty sure they didn’t contain any garlic, so it seemed odd to be able to smell it. Perhaps it was some potion Arthur was cooking up. I did see a few cloves of garlic on his windowsill the other day.

I sprayed a little perfume on my wrist, just to make sure the garlic smell wasn’t me, then walked out of my room, closing my door behind me.

“Ara.” Mike came charging down the corridor at a half run. “There you are.”

“Been here the whole time. What’s up?”

“I’m coming with you this morning.”

“With me?” I shrugged, simultaneously shaking my head and frowning.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you’re going down to the cellblock.”

“Who told you?”

He grinned. “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

I looked at the wall beside me, to the focused gaze of the woman in the painting there. “When I get back, I’m hanging you upside down.”

Mike laughed. “Don’t take it out on her. Blame yourself for being foolish enough to think you’d get away with it.”

I dropped my arms to my sides. “I just want to see them.”

“That’s fine, baby, but you shouldn’t have planned to go alone. You don’t know what’s down there.”

“I have a map.” I pulled a small, repeatedly folded piece of paper from my pocket and held it up to Mike, who took it, opened it out, then laughed.

“Baby, this is a map of de la Mort’s cell block. Not Loslilian.”

“Oh.”

“Where did you get this, anyway?” He tucked it away in his own back pocket.

“I took it from Arthur’s ro—” Oops.

“What were you doing in there?”

“Relax.” I started walking. “I was just watering his plants. He asked me to do it while he was away on Saturday.”

“Fine. But, does he know you have his map?”

I shook my head. “I was gonna put it back.”

“Not anymore. I’m keeping it.”

“Why?” I said as we reached the base of the stairwell.

“Because it’s exactly what we need.”

“Why?”

He turned his head, his narrowed eyes searching my face, while sunlight shone through the doors of the Great Hall, making his hair gold. “What’s with the hundred questions today?”

I shrugged. “You took something that’s mine. I want to know why.”

“Well, it’s not yours, so it doesn’t matter. It’s Core talk.”

“And what, I can’t know what my army is up to?”

“It’s not relevant to you.”

Hmpf! I bit my teeth together. We wandered through the pale-coloured rooms along the first floor of the east wing, stopping by a large door at the very end.

“Throne room slash Court,” Mike said, pushing the door open. “The only people allowed to access it this way are your council, the House and you.”

“How does everyone else get in?”

“The front doors—on the outside of the manor.”

“Okay.”

We walked in and I expected to see a grand room with high ceilings, but I met the blue back of a curtain, closing us off in a small space. Mike shut the door behind us and kicked a rug out of the way, revealing a hatch.

“A secret door?” I smirked.

“Nope.” He opened the hatch and pulled something out. “Secret key.”

“Oh. Cool.”

In the wall panel behind him, hidden to the right of the door, was a small hole. He pressed the key in, turned it, and the panel came forward just enough for him to slip his fingers between it and the wall.