Damned by Him

Rosaline remained standing beside the door for a few moments after entering the chamber, her hand still resting upon the handle as though she had forgotten what she had intended to do next, while the silence that followed her conversation with Xandros in the corridor seemed to have followed her inside and settled quietly around the room.

It was only when she finally turned that she remembered she was not alone.

Xandros had entered behind her.

Rosaline’s gaze travelled briefly around the chamber, taking in the warm glow of the lamps that had already been lit by one of the servants, the heavy curtains that had been drawn over the windows, and the small fire burning quietly within the hearth, before her attention eventually settled upon the bed positioned near the centre of the room.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Xandros, who had been removing his gloves, noticed the direction of her gaze.

"What?"

Rosaline pointed toward the bed.

"That’s the bed?"

Xandros followed her finger before looking back at her.

"Unless you see another one somewhere."

She gave him a look.

"I’m being serious."

"So am I."

Rosaline walked closer to the bed and stared at it suspiciously, as though the furniture itself had personally offended her, because although it was certainly large enough for two ordinary people to sleep upon, it was considerably smaller than the bed they had shared at the mansion, and the realization that there would be very little space between them immediately brought an uncomfortable warmth to her face.

Xandros watched her expression change.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Rosaline noticed.

"Don’t."

"I haven’t said anything."

"You were about to."

"I wasn’t."

"You were smiling."

"Am I not allowed to smile?"

Rosaline folded her arms.

"Not when you’re looking at me like that."

Xandros raised one brow, his amusement becoming more obvious.

"And how exactly am I looking at you?"

Rosaline immediately regretted speaking.

She turned away from him.

"Forget it."

Xandros gave a quiet laugh as he placed his gloves upon the nearby table, and although Rosaline could hear the amusement in his voice, she refused to turn around again because she already knew that doing so would only encourage him.

Instead, she began removing her travelling cloak and placing it carefully over the chair beside the bed.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

The room remained warm, and outside the windows the Western District had grown quiet beneath the darkness of the night, while the occasional sound of footsteps passing through the distant corridors reminded Rosaline that they were still guests within the Warden’s residence and not somewhere familiar.

Eventually, she turned back toward the bed.

Xandros had already removed his outer coat.

Rosaline stared at him.

"You’re really sleeping there?"

He looked toward the bed.

"Rosaline."

"What?"

"We’re married."

Her face immediately warmed.

"I know that."

"Then why are you asking?"

"I’m not saying we haven’t shared a bed before."

Xandros’ eyes brightened slightly.

"Oh?"

Rosaline’s expression changed.

"That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

She looked away.

Xandros stepped closer.

Rosaline could feel his presence even before she looked up again, and when she finally raised her gaze, she found him standing directly before her with that familiar expression of amusement resting quietly upon his face.

"The bed is smaller," she finally muttered.

For a moment, Xandros simply looked at her.

Then his lips slowly curved.

"Is that the problem?"

Rosaline narrowed her eyes.

"Yes."

"I see."

His tone suggested that he understood far more than she wanted him to.

Rosaline turned away and climbed onto the bed.

"I don’t know why I’m even talking to you."

"Neither do I," Xandros replied calmly as he moved toward the other side. "Yet you continue doing it."

Rosaline pulled the blanket over herself.

"Goodnight."

Xandros paused.

"That’s all?"

She turned her back toward him.

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Nothing."

"Then sleep."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

Rosaline heard the mattress shift as he lay down behind her, and despite herself, she immediately became aware of how little space actually existed between them.

She lay perfectly still.

Far too still.

Her hands rested carefully against her chest beneath the blanket, and her eyes remained fixed upon the darkness beyond the room as though she had suddenly become fascinated by the wall.

Behind her, Xandros remained silent.

That somehow made it worse.

Rosaline waited.

Several seconds passed.

Then a minute.

Perhaps he had actually fallen asleep.

The thought had barely entered her mind when she suddenly felt an arm slide around her waist.

Rosaline froze.

Xandros drew her backward.

Her body moved against him before she could protest, and within seconds, her back was resting firmly against his chest while his arm remained securely around her waist beneath the blanket.

Rosaline’s eyes widened.

"Xandros."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?"

His voice was calm.

"Sleeping."

Rosaline stared into the darkness.

"You’re holding me."

"I noticed."

"You noticed?"

"Yes."

She turned her head slightly, attempting to look back at him.

"Then why are you doing it?"

Xandros’ expression remained completely calm, which Rosaline found particularly irritating considering the way her own heart had suddenly begun beating faster.

"The bed is small."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You have space."

"Not enough."

"You have plenty."

"I disagree."

Rosaline opened her mouth to argue again, but before she could say anything, Xandros tightened his arm slightly around her and pulled her even closer.

Rosaline immediately stopped speaking.

The warmth of his chest pressed against her back.

Her heart betrayed her.

Xandros’ lips curved.

"There it is again."

Rosaline’s eyes widened.

"Don’t."

"What?"

"Don’t start."

"I haven’t started anything."

"You were listening to my heartbeat."

"I can hear it."

"You don’t have to mention it every time."

Xandros rested his chin lightly near the top of her head.

"Then stop making it so interesting."

Rosaline’s face warmed immediately.

"You’re impossible."

"So you’ve said."

For several moments, she remained stiff within his arms, uncertain what she was supposed to do with herself, because although they were married and had shared a bed before, there was something different about the quiet intimacy of the moment, something that did not come with arguments, danger, or the complicated circumstances that had repeatedly forced them together.

This time, Xandros was simply holding her.

And strangely enough, he did not seem to be demanding anything from her.

Rosaline slowly released the breath she had been holding.

Xandros noticed the movement.

His hand remained around her waist.

"You can relax."

Rosaline swallowed.

"I am relaxed."

Xandros was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, "You’re lying."

Rosaline turned slightly within his arms.

"I’m not."

"You were."

She frowned.

"You can’t tell me what I’m feeling."

"No," Xandros said, his voice lowering slightly, "but I can tell when you’re pretending not to feel something."

Rosaline looked at him.

For once, there was no teasing immediately following his words.

Something about that made her look away again.

She remained silent for several seconds before slowly allowing herself to relax against him, and when Xandros felt the stiffness gradually leave her body, his expression softened.

Rosaline hesitated.

Then, perhaps because she was tired of fighting the warmth surrounding her, she shifted slightly until she was facing him.

Xandros looked down.

Rosaline immediately realized what she had done.

Her cheeks warmed.

She was about to move away when his arm around her waist stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere."

"You were moving."

"I was adjusting."

"To where?"

Rosaline frowned.

"Why do you always question everything?"

"Because your answers are entertaining."

She gave him an irritated look.

Xandros smiled.

Rosaline looked away again, but instead of moving away from him, she slowly lowered her head until her cheek rested against his chest.

The room immediately became quiet.

Xandros looked down at her.

Rosaline refused to look up.

"You should sleep," she muttered.

A smile slowly appeared on his lips.

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

"I don’t take orders from you."

Rosaline lifted her head slightly.

"Then why are you still here?"

Xandros gave her a look.

She immediately regretted the question.

His smile deepened.

Rosaline quickly lowered her head against his chest again.

"Goodnight."

Xandros laughed quietly, the sound vibrating gently beneath her cheek.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Instead, his hand moved slowly against her back, not in a way that made her uncomfortable, but with a quiet gentleness that gradually made her eyelids feel heavier.

Rosaline’s fingers curled lightly against the fabric of his shirt.

Xandros noticed that too.

Of course he did.

But this time, he chose not to tease her.

He simply lowered his head slightly.

"Goodnight, Rosaline."

Her heart gave another traitorous beat.

Xandros smiled against her hair.

Rosaline closed her eyes.

And despite everything Lucien had said, despite the unanswered questions that had followed her into the room, she eventually found herself drifting toward sleep with her body curled against the one person she was still uncertain she could completely trust, while the steady rhythm of Xandros’ heartbeat beneath her ear gave her a strange sense of comfort she was not yet ready to admit she wanted.

Elsewhere within the residence, Christophine sat alone upon the edge of her bed.

Seth had retired to the neighbouring chamber some time earlier after complaining that the journey had exhausted him, and for once, Christophine had been grateful for the silence, because there were moments when even she found Seth’s constant presence unnecessarily distracting.

Her room was dark except for the single lamp burning beside the bed.

Christophine had been staring at the flame for several minutes when suddenly, her expression changed.

The fingers resting against her lap became still.

Something had moved.

It was faint.

So faint that an ordinary person would never have noticed it.

But Christophine was not ordinary.

She slowly lifted her head.

The sensation returned.

A disturbance.

No.

Not simply a disturbance.

Power.

Her eyes narrowed.

The energy had stirred somewhere within the residence, brushing against her senses for only a brief moment before disappearing again, but that single moment had been enough to make something cold move through her body.

Christophine slowly rose from the bed.

She closed her eyes.

The room around her disappeared into silence as she allowed her senses to stretch beyond the walls, searching for that familiar presence again.

Nothing.

Her expression hardened.

She knew that power.

She was certain of it.

But that was impossible.

A quiet knock suddenly sounded at the door.

Christophine immediately opened her eyes.

"Who is it?"

No answer came.

Her gaze moved toward the door.

The silence continued.

Christophine walked toward it carefully before opening it.

The corridor outside was empty.

She stepped forward.

The power returned.

Stronger this time.

Her eyes narrowed.

"It can’t be."

She stepped into the corridor and quietly closed the door behind her, her movements careful as she began following the strange pull she could feel somewhere deeper within the residence.

She had only taken a few steps when she stopped.

Christophine turned her head slightly.

Footsteps.

Someone was behind her.

She continued walking.

The footsteps continued.

Her lips pressed together.

Christophine stopped abruptly.

The footsteps stopped too.

For several seconds, neither person moved.

Then Christophine slowly turned around.

Seth stood several feet away in the corridor.

Christophine stared at him.

Seth stared back.

"What are you doing?"

Seth folded his arms.

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

Christophine narrowed her eyes.

"You were following me."

"I prefer the word accompanying."

"No one asked you to accompany me."

Seth gave her an innocent expression.

"And yet here I am."

Christophine turned away.

"Go back to your room."

"No."

She stopped walking.

"No?"

Seth shook his head.

"It’s the middle of the night, we’re in a strange district, and you’re walking through the residence like you’re trying not to be seen."

Christophine turned toward him.

"Maybe I am."

Seth’s expression immediately changed.

"That isn’t reassuring."

"It wasn’t supposed to be."

Christophine began walking again.

Seth stared after her.

Then, with an irritated sigh, he followed.

Christophine did not tell him to stop a second time.

She simply continued deeper into the silent corridor while the strange power stirred again somewhere ahead of them, growing gradually stronger with every step.

And as Seth followed behind her, completely unaware of what Christophine had sensed, she allowed herself one final thought.

Someone familiar was here.

Someone who should not have been.

And she intended to find out exactly who it was.

The corridor stretched ahead of them, swallowed by darkness.

Christophine continued walking while Seth followed.

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