Chapter 15

15

Lustina

Lustina yanked at the stubborn weed that’d lodged itself firmly into the ground beside a beastly tomato plant. The leafy top of it snapped away from its root, sending her flying backward onto her bottom with a quiet squeak of surprise. It was then she caught sight of the baron and Lord Praecepsia making their way into the cathedral.

Only on a couple of occasions had she seen them attend Sunday mass in person, and the bishop didn’t seem troubled by their lack of attendance, as he did with others.

The baron’s eyes fixed on her, as he trailed after his father, into the church, and once again, her lips tingled.

Finger set there, she turned away and smiled, resuming her chores.

Lustina had never been permitted to enter the church during mass, as Bishop Venable forbade it. Even if she were to become baptized, which she hoped for, in order to avoid the same fate as her mother, he still wouldn’t allow it. Why he continued to show her charity, when it was clear how much he disliked her, was a mystery of the ages.

For the next hour, Lustina kept with her toiling, enjoying the cool air and morning sunlight that would soon beat down on her with furious intensity by afternoon. By then, she’d hopefully be finished with chores, and could move on to quiet reading in the garden before evening chores.

As she pushed to her feet, something took hold of her arm, pulling her away, and she turned to see the baron dragging her from the garden. The dirt kicking up around his pristine leather boots seemed a tragic waste of the time that must’ve gone into polishing them for church.

She wrenched her hand free of his grasp, swallowing back the titillation of a new encounter with him. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Come with me.” Another harsh grip yanked her forward, that one futile to escape, as he tightened his hand around her arm.

He led her through the arched stone door of the cathedral’s undercroft, a place both feared and forbidden, and down the stone staircase, where the doors of chambers she was not permitted to enter lined a dark corridor. The baron pulled her into a dark alcove before those chambers and spun her around. Cold seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, where he pressed her into the stone wall, crowding her against it.

Winter stirred in her heart, as she stared into those ice blue eyes, which seemed intently focused on her lips.

“Tell me, Lustina, have you thought about when I last kissed you?”

Mentally willing her body to control the trembles that wracked her then, she nodded.

“When do you think about it?”

“Before I dream.”

“And did you like it?”

“Very much, My Lord.”

With a careful hand, he lifted her hair, letting it slide through his fingers, seemingly mesmerized by the act. “Has another kissed you before?”

“What business is that of yours?”

Fingers wound through the ends of her hair, he trailed his gaze back to Lustina’s and tugged just enough to tip her head back. “Answer the question.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to defy him and explore the boundaries of his patience, but doing so would simply be a waste of time and, given that Mass would end soon, it wasn’t worth wasting any on such games. “No. You’re the first.”

His lips twitched as if her answer pleased him, and as he released her hair, she tipped her chin forward once more. “I’ve brought you a gift, but to receive it, I am going to kiss you again.”

“What kind of gift?”

“The kind only silly and fanciful girls like yourself would appreciate.”

“If it is a kiss you wish to earn, My Lord, calling me silly and fanciful is not wise.” Hands pressed to his chest, Lustina gave a small push, but he jerked her back to him, his bigger, imposing body preventing her escape. His fingers curled into her flesh, where he gripped her small waist with such possession, she wondered if he’d leave bruises there.

“Know that I can take what I want, and there would be nothing you can do, or say. If I wish to kiss you, I have only to press my lips to yours and feel you submit to it.”

“Then, why haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, he raked his gaze over her, as if he could see right through her to the shadowed desperation that yearned for his kiss, with the same necessity as the air in her lungs. Then, like an errant riptide, he released her and walked away, and an ache of disappointment bloomed inside her chest when he disappeared around the alcove’s corner.

As wrong as it was to feel such a thing, the disappointment persisted on hearing his retreating footsteps. How had the rude and selfish boy stitched himself so firmly into her curiosity? That she could think of him with such eager fascination seemed a sickness of the mind, after the way he’d treated her on the few occasions she’d spoken with him.

Not a minute later, he returned, carrying a small golden cage. Within, a black bird sat on its wooden perch.

Frowning, Lustina examined it closer in the dim light of the undercroft, and noted the white patch across its black feathers, and the way its wing appeared free of damage.

Impossible.

She inspected those details again, closer that time, certain it wasn’t the same bird she’d found in the woods a short time ago. Shaking her head in disbelief, she recalled the severe state of its wound, and how hopeless she’d felt for the poor creature. “How? It should have taken more than a mere week for its wing to heal. I wasn’t entirely convinced it could heal.”

“According to whom?”

“Well, based on what I’ve seen before.”

“Not every creature in this world follows a pattern of what should be. Some were born to defy such limitations.” Even if his voice carried an air of arrogant boredom, Lustina appreciated the challenge to her thoughts. The possibility in how he spoke radiated such a sense of freedom to her, a world without rules.

She smiled, looking in on the bird, which seemed perfectly contented on his perch. “I can’t believe it. It’s as if his wing was never broken to begin.” Smiling wider, she touched her finger to the cage, wishing she could feel the healed bones herself, to settle the skepticism she’d wanted to believe, the day he’d torn the bird from her hands. The possibility she couldn’t bear to imagine: that perhaps it would’ve died had she kept it. “My apologies, My Lord, for doubting you.”

“Your apologies are useless,” he said, setting the cage onto the stone floor beside them. “I want what I asked for.”

“A kiss.” It wasn’t a question, and Lustina’s stomach fluttered at the thought of his lips on hers again. “May I ask why? Surely, there are other girls, ones not branded in sin, with whom you’d enjoy a kiss.” That she had spoken her insecurity aloud stirred an unrelenting vulnerability in her gut.

A muscle in his jaw twitched with the threat of cruel words. “There are. In fact, I sat across from one in church who would love nothing more than to be pressed against this cold wall where you now stand.”

Lustina tried to imagine her—surely, a good wholesome girl permitted to attend mass wouldn’t endeavor to be alone in a dark undercroft with him. “Who is she?”

“My father’s mistress. A good twenty years older than me. Beautiful woman.”

The repulsive words coiled around her nerves like venomous snakes. What kind of wretched man could pursue an affair while his wife suffered illness and uncertainty? Worse yet, that his own son would entertain her flirtations, as well. “Perhaps I should fetch her for you, then.” Lustina swallowed back the jealousy trapped in the back of her throat. It wasn’t so much that she faulted the woman herself. Perhaps she was lonely, or spurned as an unsavory woman by the public, just like her mother. It was the men who took advantage that disgusted her most.

He ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth and smiled. “Perhaps you should. I should kiss her in front of you and force you to watch.”

“And I shall return the favor by having you watch Drystan kiss—”

Fingers gripped her chin, the vicious hate swirling in his eyes left her to wonder how far he would take his anger. “Do not tempt my bad nature with such threats.”

She jerked her head to release his grip. “And I will ask that you not tempt mine.” As Lustina stepped away, a violent grip of her arm yanked her back into place. “I will not stand here and listen to you talk of kissing an older woman in front of me.”

“Why? Would such a thing trouble you, Lustina?”

She imagined him lip-locked and those panting sounds of little air. The roaming hands and escalating desires. It sickened her to imagine being forced to watch him feed his appetite with another. “Of course not,” she lied. “This is a holy establishment, not designed for filthy amusements.”

The humor in his eyes darkened like a storm cloud. “There is nothing holy about this church. Open your eyes. Is it so impossible for you to believe the depraved things that have taken place in this very undercroft?”

She had heard of secret gatherings of the clergymen at night, but thought them to be nothing more than religious rituals. “What depraved things?”

He didn’t answer, but seemed to contemplate the question, his gaze consumed by thoughts, yet unmoved and entirely impenetrable. Then his focus sharpened once more, and Lustina found herself caught like an insect in a spider’s web. What was it about his attention that stoked her fascination?

He resumed his toying with her hair, dropping his gaze to her lips. “Youare here because I want to kiss you. Not the woman.”

She angled her chin higher. “You said it yourself. You have the power to take without asking. If you desire to kiss me, then I cannot stop you. Is that not right, My Lord.”

“I should not enjoy the sound of your acquiescence as much as I do.” His hand gripped tight to her jaw, and Lustina drew a hard breath into her nose as he tipped her head back against the wall. “I hate your stardust eyes and your berry wine lips that never cease to remain shut.” He spoke through his teeth as if in anger. “And I hate the way you frolic in the woods with Drystan. You are no longer permitted to do so, do you understand?”

“Surely, I cannot wander the woods alone.” Except, Lustina had grown up in the woods her entire life, was perfectly capable of wandering alone, and thought the rule of needing to be accompanied was ridiculous.

“You can. And you will.” He leaned into her ear, only just brushing his lips over the shell of it. “I shall meet you there. Deep in the woods, at the river’s edge.”

The feather-light touch roused an urgency for more. “What for?”

“To be alone with you. Without my cousin’s intrusive eyes.” His words cast a shiver down her spine.

She could not begin to imagine what things he’d do, if not for the risk of someone catching him in the act. “That sounds far more dangerous than the animals I might encounter.”

“And yet, something tells me you are not really afraid,” he whispered, before pulling away from her ear so she could see his face once more. “Are you, Lustina?”

“No. I am not afraid.”

“You are perhaps the only girl I have met who is not. Most either see me as a dangerous and erratic cannon, capable of firing off any minute, or a plaything to covet. But not you, Lustina. I do not know how you perceive me, and that is what intrigues me about you.” He ran a finger down from her temple to her lips, where he held his gaze.

Only then did Lustina recall what it was she felt in his presence. The cold rush of adrenaline coursing through her. An unrelenting flutter of silk wings in her belly. It reminded her of the time she went foraging for herbs in the forest and happened upon a horned snake in the brush.

Not fear, per se, but the necessity for instinct and the thrill of survival.

“Of course you would not know how I perceive you, unless you ask.”

“I prefer not to know.” Leaning into her once more, he dragged his nose and lips over her throat, inhaling, as if to savor her scent before the first bite.

“Why do they believe you to be evil?”

Instead of answering, he left a faint kiss at the crook of her neck, the sensation sending a distracting tickle up her spine.? “One should not desire the very thing which stirs his madness.”

Palms took hold of her wrists like shackles, dragging her knuckles along the stones as he held them up at either side of her head. When he moved to her lips, he plundered them with the greed of a bloodthirsty pirate. Just like the first time he had kissed her, dizziness swept over her, the clash of fear and excitement pulsing through her veins like Poppy’s Blood. He dipped his tongue, brushing it against hers, and a growl rumbled in his chest, his grip of her wrists tighter than before.

“I will have you one day, Lustina,” he said against her lips, and he kissed her again. Trembling hands cradled her head as if she were fragile as glass. With the growing intensity of his kiss, he dug his fingers into her hair. “Mark my words. I will take you with such rapacity that there will be nothing left for you to give. At which point, I will take you again.” Teeth grinding, he exhaled a sharp breath. “And again.”

“What is it that makes you so angry, My Lord?” Over the steady beat of her heart, she fought to catch her breath. “Why would you take? Why not ask?”

“For fear you would allow it.”

“And you’d think me a fool for such a thing.”

“Inexcusably so.” Fingers still threaded through her hair, he took her bottom lip between his teeth and kissed her so hard and long, she pushed at his arms to break for air. “The next time you think of this kiss, let it be while you bathe yourself. I want you to touch whatever part of you aches and imagine it is my fingers and lips upon your skin.”

The sound of approaching steps spurred her pulse, and though she glanced away from him, she still caught his undeterred gaze in her periphery.

“I have to go,” he said quietly.

“What is going on?”

Unless Lustina had mistaken the look, sadness swirled in his eyes. “Do not leave this place until the guards retreat, understand? It is important they not see you.”

“Why? Please tell me.”

He ran his thumb over her lips. “They stay to listen only for a few moments then leave. At which time, you will be free to go.”

“Listen for what?”

Brows pinched, he continued to stare at her lips, still ignore her inquiries. “What bliss it would be to stay with you here, instead. Promise me you will set the bird free from its cage.”

Although he obviously spoke of the once-injured bird, something in his words tugged at her, and she pondered whether there might be a deeper meaning to them. “I promise.”

A moment later, he released her and strode from the alcove, toward the approaching footsteps.

“Ah, I wondered where you’d gone, My Lord.”

The voice of Bishop Venable sent a shudder down her spine, and Lustina kept to the wall, not daring a single breath. The jangle of keys and creak of a door stirred her curiosity, and she knelt low, only peeking around the corner.

Four doors down from her, Bishop Venable stood with two of the clergymen she recognized, along with Lord Praecepsia, Drystan, and two guards. The bishop set a hand on the baron’s shoulder and guided him into one of the forbidden chambers. The pentroshes and the elder Van Croix followed after. Drystan turned to smirk at one of the guards, before entering the room behind them.

The door closed.

Minutes ticked, as Lustina watched the guards talk low to one another, occasionally letting out a chuckle.

Then came the screams.

The sound of sheer agony over the low chanting of voices. Its pitch sent a chill down her spine and she held her breath waiting for it to stop.

It didn’t.

Instead, the sound persisted, until its owner grew hoarse. Tears welled in her eyes, for it reminded her of the same screams she’d heard watching her own mother burn alive. Horrific screams whose pitch was only possible with infliction of merciless pain.

The guards chuckled again. One pressed his ear to the door, and it was then she realized the screams belonged to the baron.