Of Beast and Beauty - Chanda Hahn Page 0,58

to hold it closed. “You cannot enter. I am not in a suitable state of dress,” I called out.

“Understood,” he said from the other side. “But you didn’t happen to hear or see anything in the middle of the night, did you? Your window overlooks the woods.”

“No,” I answered hastily.

My wardrobe door swung open, and I heard the loud snoring from inside. Could it have been Gobbersnot?

“Very well.” Nothing further came forth, so I assumed he left.

“What would you like me to do with the dress?” Pru asked.

“Burn it.” I was saddened because now I was only left with my black somber dress.

Pru went over to the fireplace and tossed in the rolled-up dress and bloody cloak. The embers that had died down in the night picked up again at the new source of fuel.

It wasn’t until the dress was engulfed in flames that I remembered the token, the pin Xander had given me.

“No!” I rushed to the fireplace and grabbed the dress with my bare hand, pulling it out and trying to smother the flames. When it was doused, I searched the dress and the burnt ashes for a glint of the pin. Soot and smoke poured out from the fabric ball, and I coughed as I searched.

“Rosalie.” Pru came and grabbed the poker from the stand. “Let me.” She searched the ashes and didn’t turn up anything. “What was it?”

“Nothing of importance,” I lied, knowing it was a gift willingly given to me by my husband. At the rate we talked and saw each other, I wasn’t sure if I would ever receive another. “It’s gone now.”

“That’s not true.” She pointed to my red and blistering hand. “You don’t burn yourself over nothing.”

The throbbing only began once I noticed the burn. Once given my full attention, it proceeded to dominate my thoughts. My wrist was already blistering, and I had a hungry-looking goblin poking me in the side, fully awake and licking his lips at the smell of burnt flesh.

“Did you murder those men in the woods and then bring me back here?” He shook his head. His feet danced in excitement as he moved his mouth closer to my injured hand. “No, Gobbersnot.” I had no intention of giving him a piece of my flesh.

He pouted, then swung the dress around and sashayed back to my trunk, giving me a rude hand gesture before crawling back into his bed.

Chapter Sixteen

Back on the road, Prudence and I slept fitfully in the carriage, but thankfully my dreams were quiet and not plagued with the thoughts of a murder or death. I awoke with a crick in my neck and barely remembered packing up and leaving Celia, my brain in such a fog of worry and exhaustion. I fell into despair, biting my thumbnail as I tried to calculate what of my meager store of potions and tea was left. It wasn’t good. Tipper had destroyed most everything I had, and I was down to my last few tea bags.

The beast’s trail went cold, so I heard talk from the men of stopping at a noble’s house on the western side of the pass. It meant little to me. Tracking the beast was no longer a main priority—hiding my inner darkness was. I couldn’t shake the fear that I was the one who killed those men and then blacked out. I must have used my magic to get back to my room. There was no other explanation. I chewed on my lip in worry as the scenery changed and the carriage slowed.

We pulled up to a magnificent three-story manor with immaculate landscaping and what appeared to be woods for miles beyond. It was at the base of a mountain pass, with guard towers scattered along the tree line.

“Whose house is this?” I asked Pru when we arrived. She held the door open, and I stepped out of the carriage.

An elderly man in his sixties wearing a dark coat came down the stairs.

“Papa!” Yasmin cried out and ran into her father’s arms. The girl began to cry extensively, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible.

“What is this, my poppet?” Yassa declared. “What happened to your face?”

My head snapped up and a sly grin rose to my lips as I tried to smother my glee. I had almost forgotten the curse I had placed upon Yasmin and her midnight lover. A curse that wouldn’t appear until the light of day touched their skin.

“It’s all her fault.” Yasmin pointed her perfectly polished nail

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