Chapter 11
Armand's Confession
Armand admits his feelings for Elara but confesses he was drawn to her because she might be the key to ending the curse—or becoming its next victim.
The air in the library had grown thick, heavy with the scent of old parchment and the cloying sweetness of night-blooming jasmine drifting through the open balcony doors. I stood near the fireplace, my fingers tracing the gilded spine of a book I had no intention of reading. Across from me, Armand was a study in stillness, his dark eyes fixed upon me with an intensity that made the flames in the hearth seem to falter.
“You have been avoiding me,” he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate in the very walls.
I did not deny it. Since the revelation in the moonlit garden, since Seraphina’s cold warning and Dupree’s whispered tales, I had kept my distance. I had wandered the streets of the French Quarter during the day, seeking solace in the mundane—the cries of fishmongers, the laughter of children, the scent of bread baking in open ovens. I had tried to convince myself that I could step away from the de Valois’ shadow, that I could return to the simple life I had known before the gaslit stranger had crossed my path.
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