Tonight, the marquis decided finally. He would tell her tonight, make her understand, and after that, he would finally permit himself to bind them by blood.
Tonight, he thought again, and it was as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders…until a memory drifted insidiously in his mind, and the marquis was grimly reminded of the soul seer’s words.
You meant well…but you’ll still end up hurting her.
Mihail’s jaw clenched.
Visions did not always come true, he told himself doggedly.
He would not hurt his heartkeeper.
He would not.
But the marquis was wrong.
IF THE MARQUIS’ STRUGGLE that morning was internal in nature, for his heartkeeper it was the opposite. Wednesday classes typically began with a peaceful two hours in the library. Today, however…
Why were they wasting time glaring at her, Rhapsody wondered absently as she accepted a copy of the morning papers from the librarian before heading to the table she shared with Peyton and Emily.
Rhapsody frowned when she saw the day’s headline. A tourist had apparently gone missing two days ago, with the woman last seen in Amstel Woods.
That was not good, she thought darkly. What if there was a connection between this new case and Mr. Walker’s murder? What if her involvement were to come to light? She did not give a whit if her own reputation ended up besmirched, but it was another thing entirely if such a scandalous connection were to reflect ill on her Master.
She had half a mind to write to Lady Zari and ask her about it, but then she remembered her promise to the marquis…
Best not to take that road for now, Rhapsody thought. She would ask her Master about the case, and that should be the extent—-
“Devil take it,” Peyton gasped as she dropped on the chair next to Rhapsody. “What is that?”
“That?”
But Peyton was already snapping her pocket mirror case open and hurriedly positioning it in front of her friend. “There!”
It was then Rhapsody saw the dark red bruise on the side of her neck. “Oh.”
Peyton gaped. “Oh? That’s all you have to say? Oh?” No wonder she had noticed an alarming number of girls glaring at Rhapsody upon entering the library. “You are wearing a man’s mark, Rhapsody!”
Rhapsody’s brows furrowed. “And?”
Peyton had an urge to start shaking some badly needed sense into her friend. “And everyone knows you are already Claimed!”
“Oh.”
“Stop saying oh,” Peyton nearly growled in her exasperation. “The other girls already hate you for being the marquis’ ‘Chosen One’ in yesterday’s class, and now this? Before this day is out, they will see to it that the whole Town knows of your wrongdoing—-”
“But I did not do anything wrong,” Rhapsody argued.
“Then are you saying that’s your Master’s mark?” Peyton demanded. “That Your Master happens to be here with us—-”
“Well, yes—-” The words were out before Rhapsody realized what she was inadvertently admitting.
Peytton gasped.
And behind them…so did Emily, who not only looked stunned but furious as well.
Chapter Thirteen
Rhapsody secured a day pass from the school’s registrar that afternoon, and after paying for the use of one of its carriages, she was quickly driven off to Bond Street, which as its name suggested, was a near-faithful replica of the shopping area of old.
While in the carriage, she mulled over Emily’s strange reaction and wondered if the other girl also harbored feelings for the marquis. She would talk to Emily on the morrow, Rhapsody decided. Things like this often stood in the way of friendship so the sooner they spoke of it, the better.
Once in town, Rhapsody couldn’t help making a little detour to buy a strawberry-flavored popsicle from a pink-themed stand before heading down to her favorite bookshop. Since she already knew what she wished to buy, it only took minutes to find the title she wished to gift her Master and have it wrapped prettily in gold paper with a red silk bow on top.
Upon stepping out of the shop, she heard someone call her name—-
“Lady Rhapsody?”
Whirling around, she was startled to find Lord Erou Damaschin grinning down at her. She had first met the golden-haired gentleman at her old school, and at that time, the nobleman-slash-enforcer had been madly in love with her friend Lady Zari.
“Good morning, Lord Damaschin.”
“Are we not good enough friends to call each other by our names?” Erou teased.
A moment passed, and then Rhapsody said simply, “It is not proper.” They were in Chalys after all, and Society here was much, much more conservative than it had been outside the kingdom.
Same old Rhapsody, Erou thought with amusement. It was nice to see that she remained frank as ever, but there were also things about her that had changed remarkably. She had always been beautiful, but more like a cold, porcelain doll. Now, however, Zari’s friend looked more vibrant, with dark eyes that sparkled and alluring rosy lips that appeared as if they would only curve for the right man.