I nod solemnly and try not to give too much away.
“And what have you told him about me?”
“That you’re rather boring if I do say so myself.”
“Boring!” Why am I complaining? He could have told my one enemy that I am indeed a person to be suspicious of, and I’m complaining about being unexciting in this man’s eyes?
“You lay in bed last night and ate pot brownies. Alone. Or at least, I thought you were alone.”
“They weren’t pot brownies!” Wow, I have got to focus on the real issues at hand here. “They were galaxy cakes. To help me sleep.”
He arches a dark brow at me so high, it nearly leaps right off his perfectly angular face.
“Galaxy cake? Does that sound... does that sound a little like space cake to you?”
My lips part, and before a word of my argument falls out, I close my gaping mouth and realize this shadow man might be onto something.
They did have an awful aftertaste. I didn’t want to insult the seer, but they were not her best batch.
Why would Ruiner give me pot brownies!?
I’m going to have a serious conversation with the man sleeping under my bed when I get back.
Shit.
I have to get back.
“I have to go,” I mumble as I head for the door.
My gaze keeps lifting back to the man still leisurely leaning his tall frame against the table. A shimmering gold ruin is tattooed along his crimson eye. He looks devilishly cursed. He looks like a drawing come to life. Hard lines make up his body while big eyes and charismatic smiles make up his features. The fairytales of charming princes and cunning heroes, they’re written after this strange but beautiful man, I’m sure of it.
Or perhaps he’d be the villain.
“Why—why did you tell me all of that?” I ask with my hand hovering against the knob.
His shoulders lift lightly. “Because you asked. Not many people ask me anything. It’s nice.”
“You’re a spy for the king. Surely you know better than to tell his secrets.”
“I didn’t tell his secrets. I told you yours.”
And my secrets are that I’m a boring-ass bitch.
Why does that hurt my ego so damn hard?
“What’s your name?” I ask as I open the door to a silent hall.
“Malace Hyde.” His long lashes lower as he says his name. Something he doesn’t seem too proud of, for some reason.
“I’m going to assume you know mine.” I step out into the corridor without looking back at him, but his soft tone drifts out to me like a sad song.
“I wouldn’t be a very good stalker if I didn’t, Bellatrix Cuore.”
I don’t look over my shoulder as I rush down the stairs of the top floor of the castle, but I feel him. I sense him now. I don’t know how I ever missed his looming presence before, but he’s very much like a breeze against my skin.
And I have to be very, very careful of the ghost who’s haunting me.
Chapter Twelve