Ghost Flower (Tower & Crown Book 1) by Kathryn A. Broderick

Author:Kathryn A. Broderick [Broderick, Kathryn A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Griffon & Thorne
Published: 2022-02-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15.

Casimir bid me good evening, kindly sending me home with a snap of his fingers. My own fingers were currently enshrined within a bubble of pale grey, nebulous slime, which Casimir insured was to help treat the aftereffects of the hellfire venom. Gurgle was seriously displeased by the situation, unhappy that his nightly chin scritches were replaced by my vastly less satisfying elbow.

That night, I lay awake glaring at the ceiling. That Casimir was a wily one. The only thing that had sparked his dissatisfaction was when I had injured myself. He couldn’t have cared less that I’d chopped up the majority of his precious herbs, that I had thrown his library into nightmarish chaos, or broken into his bedroom. It was hard to remove myself from the current situation when I didn’t really understand what motivated his interest in me in the first place.

I had tiptoed into the first steps of sleep when I felt Gurgle jerk beside me, his hackles raised on high alert. A whining creak of the floor in the main room alerted me to an intruder’s presence. I pushed down the mounting panic. Even though my hands were still encased in sticky globs of grey slime, severely limiting my ability to defend myself, I trusted in Gurgle to protect me.

“Sophia?” the voice I so hated called out from the front room.

Oh, for god’s sake.

Aiden.

I very nearly shouted at him to go away but swallowed my words when I remembered I was allegedly under my ex-lover’s thrall.

“Is that you, Aiden?” I called meekly. “I can’t move. I think that wizard cast something on me.”

I could feel his presence lurch towards me, the sound of each step a dagger into my heart. Taking a note out of Casimir’s book, I arranged myself pathetically among my pillows. At least this way I could ensure Gurgle remained a sturdy buffer between me and that psycho.

Aiden stood gawkily at the side of my bed. I was savagely pleased to see that he looked terrible. Dark shadows ringed his tired and bleary eyes. His skin was dull and colorless. His hair hung limp like wilted spinach, and his shoulders were rounded in weary defeat. His precious mage’s robe—the very same that I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into procuring for this ungrateful blob—had become a canvas of creases and wrinkles, as if he had spent a night sleeping in the streets. The sight warmed the innermost cockles of my heart.

“Why on earth did you get tangled up with the likes of that foreigner?” he sighed. He entirely ignored my accusation that I was immobile due to Casimir’s enchantment—another sharp slap in the face that he had never cared in the slightest about my wellbeing. He had that tone to his voice that I so hated, the paternalistic tone that sweetly dripped with disappointment and accusation. “There’s rumors about you all over town. It’s even reached the princeps at the Tower. The foreigner and the fish. How did someone like you meet him, anyway?”

‘Someone like me.

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