Dying to Marry Him novel · Chapter 9 of 24

Chapter 9: Rook's POV

Rook's POV

The first thing I did with a mouth was drink cold tea.

I sat alone at the long table in the emptied chapel, with the black bread untouched.

I lifted the cup to my lips.

It tasted of smoke and tannin and old leaves.

I drank all of it, and then I drank the pot.

I have stood at that altar for as long as the house has had a floor.

In all that time no one had ever poured me anything.

My hand shook on the cup. I put it down and pressed my fingers against my lower lip.

The scar at the corner was warm.

She had written it, and I did not know why a scar had undone me more than the rest.

Upstairs, five women were asleep in five rooms.

I had left Kerensa Arbuthnot on her side with the empty notebook under her cheek and a gold candle burning on the table.

I had not wanted to leave her, but the house gives me no choice about where I stand when the sun is up.

I counted them as I always count them.

The woman in sequins came apart first this season, and then the woman in yellow.

Alyssa Danforth was the third.

Every one of them is in my head with her voice and her last word.

I had wanted to tell Kerensa what that line cost me.

I had not known how to say it so she would hear a fact and not an excuse.

Then she looked me over in front of the whole house and told me to sit down.

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