Damien shook his head, wishing he had the real answer.
“Something is amiss in her stepmother’s house,” Damien replied. “I do not know what it is, and she will not speak of it, but she needed out of there.”
“Youdocare for her,” Evander said, as if marveled by the realization.
Damien looked up and somberly shook his head.
“It does not matter. She has agreed to become my wife only for the title of duchess. Not that I blame her. After all I have done, I would not wish to taint her with this darkness inside me.”
For a brief moment, sounds in the room came from Evander’s chewing and the snapping twitches of the burning wood in the fireplace.
“You are not him, you know,” Evander said quietly after a moment.
Damien turned his head, focusing on the fire.
“I hurt people,” he murmured. “It is what I am good at. Just as he was.”
“This is what we both did. We hurt bad people for good reasons,” Evander countered calmly. “Your father hurt you to stroke his sickened ego. You arenotthe same.”
Damien sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his chest. Unlike Evander, the proof of cruelty bestowed upon him ages ago had long since faded. The bruises and bones healed, leaving no scars behind except for the ones that lingered on his soul.
“I hope you are right, old friend,” Damien murmured, still rubbing the spot that his father once used for target practice. “I hope you are right.”
Chapter 9
“Iwish to see my cousin,” Caroline stated, trying her best to sound authoritative.
The maid lowered her head and said nothing as she set a tray of cold meats, breads, and sliced raw vegetables onto the dusty table by her room’s fireplace, and then left.
The room had been as cold and dark as the rest of the house, but having lived on her own, Caroline made quick work of starting a fire for herself, and now at least the room had a dim light. As the storm raged outside, she searched the dusty side tables and walls for candles or sconces, but found none. Then she went to bed. Just like everything else, it had a thick layer of dust. Feeling restless, Caroline picked up the comforter and shook it out, coughing as clouds of dust erupted into the air.
What has happened to this place?
This was not at all the house she remembered from her childhood. The one that her father used to bring her to in the summer to visit her cousins. It was a ghost of what it once was. Just like her cousin. Though she missed Elara terribly, she wassuddenly glad that her best friend was not there to see the state of the once grand home. Or the state of her once-grand brother, either. For even though she had not seen Evander yet, Caroline was certain that he would appear as bleak and empty as the very house they were in.
After shaking the dust from the bedding, Caroline wandered over to the plate of food. She looked at it as she picked up the glass of water, and though she took a sip, she decided she was not hungry, but curious.
She and Evander had not necessarily been close, but he had always been kind to her. The least she could do now, she wagered, was check on him. Thank him for letting her and Damien stay the night.
She opened her door with renewed determination and stepped into the darkened hallway, only to collide with something hard face-first. Pain erupted in her nose, but she was more distracted by the feel of familiar hands banding around her upper arms and steadying her.
“Careful,” Damien’s deep voice rumbled through the quiet. “It is unfortunate, but they are not very fond of candles around here.”
Caroline’s racing heart calmed at the sound of his voice. In the back of her mind, a voice urged her to remind him of her rule. She should tell him to let her go, if for nothing else, to stop the warmth spreading through her body from his touch. Then suddenly it was gone, and with it the warmth his large hands provided in the cold, dark space.
“No touching,” he murmured, his shadowed form taking a step back. “Right.”
“Right,” she breathed.
Feeling more awkward than ever with no light to see, she wrapped her arms around herself to suppress a shiver.
“Why is there no light in here?” she asked. “There were not even candles in my room.”
Damien let out a weary sigh from across her.
“Your cousin prefers the darkness at present,” he replied. She caught the smallest bit of sadness in his tone; an emotion she was not used to hearing in his voice.
“How is he?” she asked.
