Kissed by Death - Book three of the Trueborn Heirs Series

by Queen, Nyna

  Soft, familiar vibrations traveled through the grass to her. Alex looked up to find Hector, the old family butler, standing at the edge of the terrace. Tall, as always impeccably dressed in a white shirt, black dressing pants and a matching vest, his gray eyes stern but kind, he was a reflection of everything she had grown to love about this place. She would miss him, too. While the other servants had pretended that she belonged for the sake of the whole Alexandre-de-Nuy show, he had always treated her as if she actually belonged.

  The old man’s eyes unerringly fell onto the backpack standing on the grass beside her black ankle boots, never missing a thing. One of Hector’s bushy white eyebrows lifted. “You’re planning to travel, miss?”

  Alex bit her lip and guiltily lowered her eyes. She had planned to sneak out without anybody noticing, but now…

  She stared down at the backpack. It was a beautiful thing, made from pale gray buckskin, still smelling faintly of new leather and incredibly soft to the touch. A gift from Edalyne and Stephane because her old one had been destroyed by Roukewood and his chimaeric fire. Right now, it contained everything she owned, mostly clothing and toiletries, along with her official verdict of acquittal, two knives and a wee bit of cash.

  Hector’s inquisitive gaze kept piercing her, boring through all her layers of protective armor. Alex closed her eyes.

  “I can’t stay, Hector,” she whispered, the pain of the truth almost ripping open the seams of her soul. “It’s better for everyone if I leave.”

  She had still been able to ignore the voice of reason when she had been released from custody the day before, exhausted but thrilled about their victory, with official documents certifying her innocence and an apology for her torment by High Judge Delormes himself.

  Josy and Edalyne had picked her up, hugging and congratulating her exuberantly while they led her to one of the family coaches waiting outside the court premises that would take them back to the Dubois’ townhouse in Ciradell. A small crowd of reporters and snoopy people, who didn’t have enough to do with their own lives, had gathered outside the walls, and Alex had felt their eyes on her every step along the way, the word ‘shaper’ following them like the hissing waves of a raving sea of hostility. The time for pretending was over. After the revelations during the trial, everybody knew who—and what—she was. Of course, that wouldn’t pass unnoticed. Yet at the time, Alex had been too relieved and too exhausted to pay them any mind.

  Once they had arrived at the townhouse and Josy had attested her a clean bill of health, Alex had taken a long, hot bath that tuckered her out so much she could barely keep her eyes open during dinner. Between trying to stay awake and answering the barrage of questions coming her way from Max and Josy, she barely got down a bite. The only thing overshadowing the good mood was Tyler’s betrayal and death, a subject that occupied the room like the proverbial elephant and which everybody painstakingly stayed clear off.

  After dinner and without having eaten very much, Alex had called it an early night, dragged herself to her room and fallen into bed like a log.

  She had woken up a couple of hours later with a growling belly and decided to sneak down to the kitchen to snarf some leftovers from dinner. It had still been before midnight, but the house was mostly dark and quiet, and by habit she’d tiptoed through the darkness like a furtive spider.

  When she had walked past the living room, a ribbon of light and the voices of Edalyne and Heloise had drawn her attention. Alex had just decided to quickly skulk past, not in the mood to deal with the old shrew, when she heard mention of her own name and Darken’s. Curiosity piqued, she had slunk over to the door and peeked through the open crack, perking up her ears.

  “…two truly care for each other,” Edalyne had been saying, sounding slightly exasperated.

  “Care, bah!” Heloise had waved a thin, wrinkly hand, causing her many gold rings to flash in the soft glow of the raindrop lights. “I’m sure she had her entertaining moments, and I don’t fault my son for his lapse in judgement given that he didn’t have much of a choice considering the laws. However, things have changed, Edalyne. None of us can ignore that, least of all Darken. The former limits applying to his caste are no longer binding him. His infatuation with the shaper girl will fade quickly once he realizes what an exquisite selection he can now choose from. After all, aside from that pretty face, she hasn’t much to offer if you do not count her substantial repertoire of swearwords.” The old woman had sniffed loudly.

  “My son finally has the chance to explore the life of the elite that was his birthright all along. He can finally be a true part of this family the way he has always desired. But that will not happen while she is with him. You know how the elite works, Edalyne, it’s a simple fact. They will never accept him as long as he courts a halfbreed mongrel, and now that her identity has been revealed…” She had shaken her wizened head. “Mark my words, staying with her will hold him back from everything that could be his. It would be the biggest mistake of his life. Speak with her, Edalyne. Tell her what I’m telling you now. If she cares for him at all, she won’t stay and ruin his life. Even that little hussy cannot be so selfish.”

  Alex had been so shocked and furious she couldn’t even breathe.

  Edalyne had bristled. “Darken is a grown man, Heloise. In the end, it is his choice what he does with his life.”

  “Choice, choice!” Heloise had exclaimed. “Stop harping on about choice, Edalyne. Darken is a Dubois, and he has a responsibility to his family. He will marry corresponding to his status and continue the Dubois-bloodline. And just so there is no misunderstanding, no mongrel slut will ever be my daughter-in-law.”

  Edalyne’s voice had turned cold. “That is really not for you to decide.”

  Heloise’s eyes had narrowed to tiny slits. “And what do you think will happen if Darken stays with her? Open your eyes, Edalyne, and stop being so incredibly naive. Stephane will lose the election, that is what is going to happen. His acquittal and revealing that great conspiracy has regained him some of his former popularity but seeing him parading a shaper will crush that image in no time, and Lord Devilier will be more than ready and willing to take his place.”

  “Is that really all you can think about, Heloise? The election?”

  “And what about Maxwell and Josepha, my dear?” Heloise had retorted in her condemningly sweet tone of voice. “They will become pariahs amongst their own, shunned and slandered. Is that what you want for them? Do you not care about the future of your own children?” It was the same question Edalyne had asked her to recruit the old lady for preparing Alex for the Summerball.

  At that, Edalyne’s lips had pinched into a tight line.

  Heloise had nodded her head gravely. “I will not sit by and let that shaper mongrel be the ruin of this family. Are you?”

  Not awaiting Edalyne’s answer, Alex had spun on her heel, stormed back to her room and furiously thrown herself onto her bed, her hunger all but forgotten. How dare the old bitch! How dare she!

  But the longer she tossed and turned and flipped her pillow until both sides were too hot to sleep on the more she had realized Darken’s mother was right.

  For a moment, she had been Alexandre de Nuy, had lived that lie and almost started to believe it herself. It had felt so real for a while, so possible, as though if only she held onto that part of her heritage tightly enough she could make it her own. The elite had accepted her, included her, because they, too, had believed the lie. Only now she could no longer pretend to be something she was not. The cat was out of the bag and she was just herself again—the shaper, penniless, illiterate, crude, and unrefined. She was still wearing the same fine clothes, but it was nothing but a dress-up. Like a spider trying to fit herself into a butterfly costume: no matter how hard she tried, those legs would always stick out and expose her for what she really was.

  The royal elite would never accept her as one of their own. Even those who had talked to her before, those who had genuinely liked ‘Lady Alexan
dre’ would turn away from Alexis Harper once they found out about her true nature. She’d seen it before in all its dirty, ugly facets. And, worse, she would drag the entire Dubois family down with her.

  Those hostile looks and whispers outside the court? It would always be like this, and that was only the beginning. She would always be viewed as a blot on whatever landscape she was in.

  What if Stephane really lost the election because Darken was in a relationship with her? Sure, right now, the news was still full of ‘Prime murdered his father’ and ‘Horrible secret of old Tharisan prison camp revealed’, but as soon as the novelty of those horrors faded, it would turn into ‘Can the Dubois control their pet shaper?’ and ‘Has it killed any babies in their sleep yet?’. If Stephane lost the election because she stuck around, they would never forgive her.

  The kids would suffer, too, because of her presence. How could she stay and watch Max and Josy’s friends turn their backs on them because they dared to associate with a shaper mongrel?

  And then, finally, there was Darken. Just thinking of him sent a rush of hot tingles through her, half excitement, half torment, setting every nerve-ending on fire. He was everything she could ever have dreamed of in a man, and then some. And he could have been hers. In another universe, perhaps.

  True, Darken had told her he loved her. But that had been before High Judge Delormes had revoked the Forfeit Act and reshuffled the pack. Heloise was right about that. Things were different now. It wouldn’t be fair to hold him to anything he’d said before.

  He had a chance at a real trueborn life now, with all the bells and whistles. But that wouldn’t be possible with a shaper freak at his side. It would be difficult enough for him as it was to get a foot in that door, considering his caste and the bias coming with it, yet eventually the trueborn ladies would line up at his doorstep. He was an available bachelor now, from one of the richest and most influential elite families of the realm. Just for the chance to marry into his family, the eligible women would be willing to overlook a lot.

  Alex was no fool. If he really wanted a shot at that life, he’d need a respectable woman from a good, solid trueborn family at his side, one that wouldn’t be a constant embarrassment whenever they showed their faces in public.

  Even if Darken decided to stay with her now, what if he resented her for it once he realized what he had given up for her? She had no intention to be the big fucking rock around his neck that was holding him back. She simply loved him too much. There was only one way to solve the impossible equation—she had to go.

  Hector was frowning at her. “I’m not certain I understand, my lady.”

  Alex forced herself to look the butler in the eye. All the emotions she had tried to contain bubbled up, and her composure broke like a dam under the pressure of too much water. She opened her mouth and the ugly truth spilled out.

  Repeating Heloise’s words was like pressing a hot iron to her heart and when Alex was done, tears were streaming down her face once again, two burning rivers chafing away at the outer corners of her eyes.

  “I d-don’t belong here, Hector,” Alex forced out between heaving breaths. “N-never have. They will all be better off without me.”

  Hector’s frown deepened, creasing jagged lines into his always so stoic face. “Have you really thought this through, milady?” he asked. “I am certain Miss Josepha will be heartbroken if you were to just vanish, as would be little Master Maxwell. Not to mention Master Darken…”

  Alex stomach constricted painfully. She had left letters to the kids, trying to explain why she couldn’t stay. Why there would be no visits and no staying in touch. As much as she would love to see them grow up, a clear cut would be best for all of them. She simply couldn’t watch from afar when Darken moved on and eventually courted another woman.

  They belonged in different worlds. She knew the kids wouldn’t easily forgive her for leaving without a goodbye, particularly Josy, but perhaps that was for the better. Being angry at her would help them to let go. Soon, when life finally returned to normal, she would be nothing but a faded memory to them.

  She had tried to write to Darken, too, but there were no words in the world that even started to describe what she felt. Or how sorry she was. Or how it broke her heart to leave him. So she’d ended up saying nothing at all.

  When Alex didn't react, Hector prodded gently. “I understand that you are upset by what you heard, miss, but I’m sure everything can be sorted out. Things are never as bad as they seem…” Oh, Heloise had been pretty clear, thank you very much.

  “Why don’t you sleep on it for another night,” he suggested. “At least talk to Darken before you make a decision you might regret.”

  She would regret it forever, there was not the slightest doubt about it, but leaving was the right decision—even if it killed her to do so.

  Alex shook her head, putting some finality into the movement. “I can’t, Hector.”

  If she talked to Darken, all reasonableness would go right out of the window. The moment she saw his face, all the arguments that now held weight and merit would suddenly seem so small and irrelevant compared to the feeling of his lips on hers, to the bliss she felt when his arms closed around her, and she would break down and stay for entirely selfish reasons.

  Alex released a shaky breath through her slightly open lips. “I should be going.”

  Hector didn’t look happy but he hinted a bow, yielding to her decision. “In that case, at least let me order you a cab coach.”

  Alex smiled at him through the blurred veil of her tears. “Thank you, Hector … for everything.”

  He took her hand, gently tugging back her sleeve, and brushed his lips across her fingers. “It was an honor to be of service, my lady.”

  Alex bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing more tears. “Hector … you know I’m not a lady.”

  The old man didn’t bat an eye. “I’ll keep it in mind, my lady.”

  He returned inside to organize the coach.

  Alex turned back to the flower bed. Despite the warmth of the summer day, she felt so incredibly cold. Cold and broken. She hugged herself, but the chill was deep inside her and refused to be banished.

  Half an hour later, when the cab coach finally rolled into the driveway, Alex snatched her backpack, hugged Hector one final time, and hurriedly left the mansion before she could change her mind and ruin Darken’s life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  THE cab coach rolled to a stop at the bottom of the driveway to Helton Manor. Darken quickly compensated the driver for his time, not waiting for any change, and leapt out of the vehicle.

  The entire drive he had itched for his hover-cycle, but it had been secured as piece of evidence by the guardaí on the court grounds after he and Alex had been detained for questioning, and with the slow-grinding mills of the country’s bureaucracy, it would be a couple more days—or, more likely, weeks—before he would get it back. Darken grimaced. He hated to be dependent on others.

  He swiftly cleared the short distance to the manor, jumped up the stoop, and pushed through the front door into the hall.

  “Alex?”

  No answer.

  Darken had called his family at the townhouse in Ciradell the moment he’d taken off from the court premises in Shazam and had been informed that Alex had gone to the family’s country house that morning, allegedly to grab some of the personal belongings she’d left there. He suspected what she really wanted was some privacy time after being put through the mill by the court for two days straight, something that simply wasn’t possible with Josepha and particularly Maxwell in the same house. Well, privacy was good. He wanted privacy, too—and he already knew exactly what he intended to do with that privacy.

  Grinning a boyish grin, Darken jogged up the stairs to the first floor where the bedrooms were located, taking two steps at a time.

  “Alex?”

  Her bedroom door at the end of the corridor stood slightly ajar. With his smile broadening, Dark
en pushed at it with his fingertips and slipped inside. “Alex?”

  He paused, slightly confused by the sight greeting him. The bed had been stripped of its linen, pillows and blankets neatly folded on top of the white cover. His gaze glided over the empty shelves, the wicker chair that had usually held at least a few items of clothing … all clean and empty. No sign of the spider or any of her personal stuff.

  The door to the bathroom was open, yet when Darken approached it, he could see that it was just as clean and empty as the bedroom. As though nobody were living there. What on—?

  Someone softly cleared their throat behind him.

  Darken pivoted toward the door. Hector was standing inside the wooden frame, hands clasped tightly in front of his elegant, dark butler’s vest. The deep frown in the older man’s expression immediately told him something was wrong. A cold, tingly feeling raced up his arms and down his back, forming an icy knot in the base of his stomach. Something had happened. Something concerning Alex.

  “Where is she?” he asked, his deep voice rough.

  “The lady isn’t here,” Hector replied a little stiffly, and something flashed in his eyes. It was gone too quickly to be completely sure, but Darken could have sworn it had been a flicker of suppressed pain. The knot in his stomach tightened.

  “I can see that myself,” he snapped, irritated by his own sharpening temper. “Where is she?”

  The old family butler let out a heavy sigh and opened his hands. “The lady … has left, sir.”

  “Left?” Darken repeated dully, not willing to accept the conclusion that his mind was trying to draw from all the glaring hints around him. “What do you mean, ‘left’?”

  The look Hector gave him held way too much sympathy. The old man sighed again. “The lady left about an hour ago with strict instructions not to tell you that she is going to the long-distance coach station at Tillwick Grove.”