Lilian looked at me then, really looked, her eyes dark. “You should be careful where your feet wander, pet. Some paths don’t like being walked twice.”
My brows furrowed, but I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I promised, knowing I would go anyway.
She hummed. “You most likely know that your mum was the same age as you when she got pregnant.”
My palms dampened at the sudden change of subject, and I felt the urge to shift further away from Lilian. Of course I knew my mum’s age. I was born just before her twentieth birthday, and I would be nineteen in just a few weeks.
“If you would like, you could spend more time with Declan. His father and I are good friends.”
The air froze in my lungs. That was not what I expected to hear. “I would rather not,” I admitted.
At the same time Lilian added, “While you’re here at least.”
I swallowed. There was no chance I could turn it down now. It was clear what she wanted, and I’d have to play along if I wanted to stay here. If I wanted that inheritance.
“Alright.” I nodded, keeping in a sigh. I can survive meeting with Declan Marzouq again. He didn’t seem that bad after all.
“Marvelous.” Her smile sharpened. “I’ll talk with Vincent, then.” She pet my hand, her touch light on mine, but it felt like a stone had been placed there. I didn’t move until she did.
“I’ll leave you to your wandering now. I’m glad to see Thornhill has caught your interest,” she said, already turning back to her sculpture.
I stood, ready to walk away, when?—
“One more thing,” Lilian’s hand brushed my shoulder and I flinched, facing her again. “From now on, you may call me Grandmother.”
My muscles tensed, but I nodded slowly. I could do that. It was only one more small price to pay for a greater future. I walked away under the weight of her gaze. The mist still clung to the grass when I reached the edge of the garden again, but I no longer had the urge to press into the forest. Not with Lilian’s voice still echoing in my head like it was following me. Instead, my steps took me toward the twisting maze, then to the stables.
Mud clung to my boots as I halted in front of Lilith’s stall, offering her a bucket of carrots. I haven’t been here since Myra’s accident almost a week ago. I watched as her warm breath curled into the cold air, while I tried to make sense of Lilian’s words. She didn’t just hint at wanting me to get married, did she? That would be absurd, wouldn’t it? Even for someone as wealthy as she is. She wanted me to go to college, like we talked about when I first arrived. But the fractured weight of her words kept picking at my brain.
I inhaled the scent of damp hay and fur.
“It’s only a year,” I breathed into the air, trying to calm my nerves.
A year and I would have freedom I had never tasted before. The carrots breaking under Lilith’s teeth filled the stillness of the stables. My fingers traced the edge of the wooden door, splinters brushing my skin. It was strange to think of my mum standing right here years ago, caring for this horse, loving it enough to keep her photo in her diary.
I sat on the ground—stone scattered with hay—listening to the soft snorts of the horses and the slow ticking of my watch as I rested my head against the stall door. My eyelids grew heavy with dreams...
My eyes opened wide,and I gasped for air. The same nightmare as before had haunted my sleep. I massaged my sore neck and stood to face Lilith’s watchful, almost knowing gaze. I pet her soft muzzle and glanced at my watch, my eyes rounding. Eight forty. I tapped on the glass. Surely it was mistaken. But when I cracked the door open it was dark outside. The sun had already dipped off the clouded sky, the air thick with the promise of rain. How did I manage to sleep through the whole day?
I adjusted my clothes, my legs aching from stillness as I left the stables and the unexpected comfort of the horses behind. I made my way back toward the manor. Only a few of the windows watched with warmth behind their glasses, the rest were asleep, dark, probably covered with drapes. My boots dragged through the mud once more, but instead of taking me closer to the house, it was the distance between me and the dark trees that grew shorter. And this time, I didn’t stop.
Not even when a chill bit into my neck like a tearing warning.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELODIE
Ifollowed the same route that I’d taken in my dreams. I could tell from the way the frosty winter air whipped across my face that this time I wasn’t asleep. I didn’t believe my nightmares to be anything but dreams, yet I hoped I could get rid of them if I found what they were trying to show me. However foolish that sounded. The cryptic instructions of my mind were clear: I needed to find the mausoleum.
I wrapped my sweater tighter around my torso and quickened my steps on the earth-bound path. The moon was absent, not as it had been in my dreams. I raised the torch I found in the stables, someone must have left it, and swept a few twigs out of my way. The sleeping forest looked the same as it did in my dreams as I ventured deeper.
Which is odd, as I’ve never stepped foot in it before.
Branches broke under my boots like bones, painful roars in the silence of the woods as I kept going. After living alone in the city and walking the streets at the hour of the dead, an empty forest couldn’t scare me. Yet, I couldn’t ignore how heavy and still the air felt around me either. As though the trees themselves were holding their breath.
An owl’s haunting cry echoed through the forest, and the hairs stood on the nape of my neck. I stilled, eyeing one tree after the other, their dark trunks twisting and tangling.
A low melody drifted to my ears, and I moved in that direction. I walked around bushes and trees broken in half, until, resting between two tall trunks, I saw it. The river was wider than it sounded and foamy from the strength it moved with. I remembered it from my dreams, though I hadn’t encountered it then. I edged closer, careful to keep a safe distance from its depths. If the river was here, I was on the right path. The mausoleum had to be here somewhere as well.
