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The Raven and the Hummingbird

Page 29

by Jessica Griffin

But locks and merciless fists might.

Emrys was treating me well so far, even if he saw through my lies.

That was better than I’d hoped.

Still—trusting a man, after everything I’d been through, would be naïve. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was a bigger game at play. I wouldn’t be a pawn this time.

He was in the greenhouse, Liang said.

Excellent.

This was my chance to explore the place alone—and perhaps even find the study he mentioned yesterday.

I took a small notebook and a pencil from the bedside table before I left.

“Useful,” I murmured, leafing through the pages.

The first ones were covered in hasty notes. The words swirled and danced before my eyes, like always when I read. My finger traced the writing, my lips moving soundlessly with each word. Some were scribbled in a shaky, frantic handwriting:

I can’t do this anymore

He will bring doom to us all

The woman in the lake took Jenny

I blinked a few times to make sure the letters weren’t deceiving me.

This manor had a mind of its own. And plenty of mysteries.

I ignored the chills running down my back and focused on my task.

Straightening the soft fabric of my dress, I headed to the door.

Time to find this greenhouse.

Daphne

The Unbidden

Just like Liang warned me, the manor had rearranged itself. My room opened onto a corridor I had never seen before. I tried to find the entrance hall from the night before, determined to search the lower floor for Emrys’s study. I needed more than postcards and drawings to bargain for my freedom.

But like in an enchanted maze, the corridors made unexpected turns, leading to bedrooms and halls I could swear had appeared from thin air. I thought my room was on the second floor, but the narrow oak walls and red-carpeted floors led me to another spiraling staircase different from the one at the entrance.

The portraits on the teal-painted walls watched me with disturbingly vivid eyes, unknown lords and ladies smirking at my confusion.

One, two, three floors down. Still no sign of sunlight.

I retraced my steps and noticed droplets of blood on the parquet floor. My blood. So if I followed it, it must lead me back to the main door.

Instead, it led me to a solid wall.

I knocked on the indigo wallpaper, pressing my face against it, trying to catch any noise from beyond. There was only the faint howling of wind through unseen corridors and, somewhere, a lonely piano melody.

“It takes you where it needs you, not where you want to be,” Liang said. Well, that wouldn’t make my task any easier.

I shrugged and followed the stairs deeper. Sunlight filtered from the bottom of the stairwell, and I rushed that way.

It took me to a sun-drenched vestibule, its glass-paned walls flooding the space with bright morning light. A solarium. The scent of warm stone, beeswax polish, and the faintest trace of citrus lingered in the air.