DOTD Chapter 16

The Duke makes his mark

I was here. Frozen on the manor steps, staring at the half-empty door frame. I mounted the last few stairs and crossed the threshold, the cool breeze of the fans blowing through my wet hair and chilling me to the bone. I stepped over the broken door panel, the thick scent of tobacco smoke clinging to the air.

The Duke….
He was home.

The childish frustration from Lucien had worn off and was replaced by a familiar, creeping fear that was usually paired with black polished shoes and a perfectly trimmed mustache. Lead settled in my gut. This was a loose end I wasn’t sure I could tie up. I displayed an unnatural amount of strength in front of Aurelia and Sonnet. My magic had leaked out, curtains drawn for an audience at that. I had witnesses, witnesses that were not bound by loyalty but driven by jealousy and vindictiveness. Not to mention James’s surprise appearance this morning. There would be no mercy.

I crept as silently as I could along the hard, cold floors to reach the stairs. There didn’t look to be any servants around, so perhaps my arrival had not been announced to him. I inched up the first step. A loud creak came from the stairs, betraying my location.

Shit!

“ Miss Undergrove,” called a voice.

A small squeak escaped me, jumping from fright at the unexpected voice. A servant girl stood below the rail, arms full of folded linens.

“ Duke Undergrove has requested your presence in his study, Miss,” she said nervously and curtsied.

Even the maid was frightened. There would be no sneaking out of this. I had to face him head-on, and it would be better to do it now. He would likely banish me to my rooms once he finished ripping into me. Once I was there, I could slip out to meet Lucien. I donned my usual facade and layer of skin and eased down the steps.

Each step felt like a betrayal of my instincts, my body screaming at me to turn around as I made the familiar walk to his study. The smell of tobacco thickened as I reached the door. I paused before entering, heart lurching in my chest. This wasn't going to be pretty. Just a precaution, I slid Lucien's dagger free from my gown. Hoping no one would happen upon it, I tucked the blade under the hallway rug. I knew Aurela would not dare leave out the part where I threaten her with it. The Duke would surely confiscate it. Better to leave it hidden, for now.

I knocked—a moment of silence. My heart thumped faster, the blood pumping in my ears deafening. I had faced monsters before; I could do it again.

“ Enter,” Father called from inside.

I reached for the knob. My finger became heavy, as if my magic was warning me, urging me to leave. I pressed on, ignoring the impulse and swinging the door wide to reveal the dim, smoky study. The Duke stood behind his desk puffing his cigar and gazing out the large, arched window before him. The sunlight caught the smoke just right, almost resembling fog and carrying an uneasy presence with it.

“ Close the door, Fluer,” he commanded, his voice low and lethal.

I obeyed, clicking the heavy oak door closed.

“ You’ve caused quite a stir in the manor this morning…for more reasons than one,” he spoke leisurely into the air, his back still turned towards me. Somehow, every word he spoke, no matter how soft, still managed to fall like a threat. I knew they were not empty.

I did not respond, simply remaining still in the center of his study, hands clasped to my sides. Knots twisted inside me, coiling around old wounds and stirring the release of fear. I’d told myself not to be scared of him over and over, and yet every time we had these chats, my resolve would break. It was a deathly cycle, one I was stuck in, afraid to remove myself from it in the presumption of the worse consequences that would follow. I knew I was better than this, but every time I saw his face, cruelty etched along his eyes and tightened at the corners of his mouth, I was suddenly microscopic. He went on.

“ I feel as if I have lent you too much grace, for you seem to take advantage of my goodwill,” he continued, pacing gradually along the window and round his desk towards a bookcase.

Goodwill.
The man was sick. Is that what he called slamming me into the foyer wall and tearing into my skin with his ring? That…was mercy?

He ran his fingers along a row of books, stopping on an emerald green one, bound in a velvety fabric. It was larger than the others, maybe even out of place now that I was really looking at it. He tilted the book back.

Click.

The sound of gears turning behind the case echoed through the small room as the bookcase morphed into some kind of secret door. I watched with hesitant curiosity as he swung it wide, revealing a small metal safe.

“James’ arrival this morning is cause for rumor alone, but a knife to your sister’s throat…” he clicked his tongue in disapproval, as he spun the combination code. “ You force my hand, daughter of mine.”

I flinched at his words. There was no escaping this. I was in deep shit.
He opened the small safe, his tall figure blocking most of my view inside, and removed a mysterious object. Securing the lock once more, he turned to face me, holding a slender jeweled knife in his palm.

My blood went cold.

“ I think it only fair, your punishment resemble your sins,” he mused, turning the blade over in his hands. “ Sit down!”

My pulse began to race, ice spreading over my limbs. I stumbled backwards as he approached with the weapon. Whatever lesson he would going to teach me, I knew would be excruciating and slow.

“ Father, please–”

“ Silence!” he hissed, dark eyes flashing with promised pain. “ Don’t make me ask you twice.”

I sat in the chair behind me obediently, breath coming in shallow, shorts burst. Tears threatened to form as fear ran rampant through me, tearing through my thin layers of armor. My stance was rigid, upright, afraid to move an inch as he paced around me in long, poised strides. His polished steps stopped behind me and I felt him croach behind the chair.

“ What are you going to do to me?” I asked, my voice coming out shaky.

I could feel his slimy smile growing with my question. “ What I should have done a very long time ago,” he whispered into my ear, his vile breath hot on my neck. “ Perhaps if you have a permanent reminder of what happens when you disobey me, you will not forget so easily.”

My body began to tremble. “ Don’t touch me,” I said, through gritted teeth.

A sinister chuckle rumbled out of him, his hands finding my wrists on either side and trapping them in a death grip. Salt stung my eyes, my skin crawling with every small touch.
“ Let me go!” I commanded, writhing against his grip.

“ I’m afraid you did this to yourself,” he replied simply, enjoying every sick moment.

Before I could think, a frayed rope was being wrapped around each wrist, securing me to the chair. I thrashed widely against the bindings, yanking with all my strength. An exasperated groan left my lips, whipping my head fiercely around in fear of what was to come. I couldn’t see him. I was stuck, helpless to defend myself, tied down to the chair.

“ Shhh, shhh, shhh now. There’s no use in fighting it. You must welcome your consequences, reform your rebellious heart,” he coaxed from behind, securing each knot impossibly tight. The course bindings rubbed against my skin, cutting off my blood circulation.

“ You’re sick,” I spat at him, a single tear falling down my cheek, my chest rising and falling with rapid rhythm.

He rounded the chair and faced me head-on, dagger in one hand. “ And you, you are disobedient,” he retorted, yanking my head back with a fistful of hair and bringing the tip of the thin blade under my chin.

Another tear fell, my face schooled into unrelenting stone. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my screams. I held my head high as he pinched the tip into the tender skin, causing me to wince slightly. Sharp, pinpoint pain erupted, hot liquid welling and dripping down my neck. His eyes followed the trail, his smile growing with great pleasure.

He dragged a finger across the blood and held it into the light. “ Curious color,” he mused, studying the inky drop. “ I thought I had imagined it before. I see now that I was wrong.”

My heart threatened to tear clean through my chest as he smeared the navy blood between his thumb and pointer finger, my resolve dissapating into thin air.

What did he mean before?
When he’d cut my cheek? Had he seen it then?

Oh god. Oh god.

“ That explains the door then,” he growled, trailing the tip of the blade to the hollow space between my collar bones. “ Shall we discover more?”

Frigid cold shot through my body, prickling down my limbs as his words met my ears. He knew. He knew something was off, that I…that I was different. He’d speculated before, but now, I could see him drawing conclusions in his mind. His eyes flicked to the dagger.

“STOP!” I screamed, my body trying to crawl out of my skin.

In a painful, split flash, I felt the steel slice along my decolletage. I cried out, the sting of the blade unbearably slow. More hot blood welled, dripping down my chest and into my gown. My magic surged, starting to wake, cracking an eye open at the stimulation. I felt the pressure form in my finger, trailing through my arm and expanding in my chest. It was faster this time, like a defense mechanism kicking into gear. More tears streamed down my face, fear eating away at my insides like maggots.

“ When you look in the mirror,” he seethed, spit flying into my face. “ I want you to know that you're marked, tainted, a black stain on our family’s name!” His words slammed into me as sharply as the knife.

A second later, he ripped the blade across my skin again, along my collarbone this time, faster. Another cry flew from my throat, the incision burning fiercely.

“ STOP IT!” I screamed, my voice shaken and high. I struggled against the ropes again, all my efforts getting me nowhere. He brought the dagger back to my skin for the third time.

“ Remember what you are,” he boomed, eyes lit with hellfire as he glared into my own.

Another gash across the opposite side. I shrieked in agony, my chest now marred in blood, searing pain throbbing along the injuries.

“ Remember, that you….are nothing!” he sneered.

I was sobbing now, three long cuts coming to a cross on my chest. Hopelessness consumed my body, any chance at defending myself lost to the ropes binding my hands.

“ You are truly evil!” I cried, body trembling with adrenaline and terror.

He pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and began cleaning the blade casually, as if it had not just torn gruesomely through his daughter at his own hands.

“ And you have a little secret you’ve been hiding,” he muttered, examining the blue stains covering his handkerchief. His eyes locked onto mine once more, as dark and vile as death itself. “ I have work to do,” he taunted, a long smile curling under his mustache.

NO.
No, no, no, no.
What did that mean? What work?
What was he going to do?

My head spun violently, back sweaty, pressed firmly against the wooden chair as my chest heaved in breaths. I could taste my tears, my chest alive and hot with pain. Fear had infected me, festering and bubbling as the dreadful thought of discovery hovered on my tattered shoulders. I wished with everything in me for Lucien to come barreling in and save me from the monster bound to human form. I silently prayed for him to hear me, my pleading fists pounding for a chance to escape. It did me no good.

The Duke stood to his feet, gliding over to his desk and pulling out a blank correspondence note. He dipped his quill and began to write, addressing someone I did not know. After a moment, he tucked the note in the pocket of his vest and strode towards the door, the key in his hand.

“ Let me go! You can’t just leave me in here!” I yelled, eyes wide with terror, thrashing against my bindings.

He stopped at the door, dusting an invisible speck from his shoulder. “ I certainly can and will,” he retorted, “ I can’t have you running around Innswood and causing scenes now, can I? I’ll deal with you properly when I get back. Don’t even think about screaming for help, it will do you know good.”

He stepped out of the door.

“ No! Wait!” I screamed after him.

It was useless.
The door clicked shut, and with it the sound of the lock turning in the keyhole.