I woke up to sunlight stabbing me directly in the eyeballs.
OW.
FUCK.
Why is the sun SO BRIGHT?
I groaned and tried to roll over, but my entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck.
Again.
Twice in one lifetime is just EXCESSIVE, universe.
"Oh good," Nyx's voice said from somewhere nearby. "You're alive. I was starting to wonder if I'd need to find a new contractor."
Contractor.
He called me his CONTRACTOR.
Not 'partner' or 'friend' but CONTRACTOR.
I love this sarcastic snake SO MUCH.
I forced my eyes open and immediately regretted it. The room was too bright, too sharp, too everything. My head was pounding like someone had used it as a drum, and my mouth tasted like I'd been licking ancient grimoires.
Which, to be fair, is probably not far from the truth.
"What..." I croaked, and my voice sounded like gravel. "What happened?"
Nyx slithered into view, coiling on the pillow next to me. His red eyes were gleaming with what I was pretty sure was amusement.
He's ENJOYING this.
He's enjoying watching me suffer.
Typical.
"You collapsed," he said, his tongue flicking out with what I swear was a smirk. "Two days ago. Fell flat on your face right after your dramatic moment with the black rose. Very theatrical. I give it a seven out of ten—would've been higher if you'd managed some dying words."
Two days.
TWO DAYS?
I've been UNCONSCIOUS for TWO DAYS?
I tried to sit up and immediately regretted that decision too. The room spun, and I had to grab the edge of the bed to keep from falling over.
"Easy," Nyx said, and for once his tone wasn't entirely mocking. "You're still recovering. Though watching you flail around like a dying fish is quite entertaining."
There's the mockery.
I was worried he'd gone soft.
"Recovering from WHAT?" I demanded. "Was it poison? Did Riku poison me? Because if he did, I'm going to—"
"It wasn't poison," Nyx interrupted. "It was mana depletion. You know, that thing I warned you about? That thing Corvus warned you about? That thing literally everyone with functioning brain cells warned you about?"
I stared at him.
Mana depletion.
MANA DEPLETION.
I passed out from MANA DEPLETION?
"You overextended yourself with the illusion magic," Nyx continued, clearly enjoying this far too much. "You pushed too hard, too fast, and your body shut down to protect itself. It's a common mistake for new practitioners who don't know their limits yet. Or, in your case, practitioners who know their limits and deliberately ignore them because they're constitutionally incapable of restraint."
Oh.
Oh FUCK.
I'm an IDIOT.
"So I wasn't poisoned," I said slowly. "I just... ran out of magic juice and passed out like a complete amateur."
"Essentially, yes," Nyx said. "Though the court has much more creative theories. Would you like to hear them? I've been collecting them like trading cards."
Of course he has.
Of course my familiar spent two days cataloging gossip while I was DYING.
"Hit me," I said, because if I'm going to be humiliated, I might as well know the full extent.
Nyx's eyes gleamed with malicious glee. "Well, the leading theory is that you were cursed by a rival house—House Thornwick is the popular suspect, given your recent... interactions with Lord Cedric. Very dramatic. Very scandalous."
Of course they think Cedric cursed me.
Of course.
"Theory number two," Nyx continued, clearly having the time of his life, "is that you attempted a forbidden ritual and it backfired spectacularly. This one's popular among the Church officials, who are apparently keeping a running tally of your crimes."
A running tally.
They have a SPREADSHEET of my crimes.
That's actually kind of flattering.
"And theory number three—my personal favorite—is that you were poisoned by Prince Riku as part of some elaborate Valdris assassination plot. This theory involves international intrigue, forbidden romance, and at least three different types of exotic toxins."
Forbidden romance.
They think Riku and I are having a FORBIDDEN ROMANCE.
I mean.
They're not WRONG.
But still.
"So basically," I said, "everyone thinks I'm either cursed, incompetent, or the victim of a political assassination."
"Correct," Nyx said cheerfully. "No one suspects the truth—that you're just reckless and have the self-preservation instincts of a suicidal moth."
Rude.
Accurate, but rude.
"How bad was it?" I asked, forcing myself to focus. "The collapse. How bad?"
Nyx's amusement faded slightly. "Your mother was... concerned. She had the court physician examine you. He confirmed it was magical exhaustion and prescribed rest. She's been checking on you every few hours."
Mother was concerned.
The terrifying Duchess of Ravencrest was CONCERNED about me.
That's... actually kind of nice?
In a terrifying, emotionally-complicated way.
"And everyone else?" I asked. "What's the official story?"
"That you overextended yourself practicing advanced magic," Nyx said. "Which is technically true. Your mother made it very clear that anyone spreading alternative theories would find themselves... inconvenienced."
Inconvenienced.
That's Mother's word for 'cursed into the next dimension.'
I love her.
"And Riku?" I asked, trying to sound casual and definitely failing.
Please tell me he didn't think he killed me.
Please tell me he didn't flee the country in panic.
Please tell me—
Nyx's eyes gleamed with that special brand of malicious amusement reserved for when he knows something I don't.
"Prince Riku," he said slowly, drawing out each word, "sent flowers. Every day. With increasingly concerned notes asking about your recovery."
He sent flowers.
EVERY DAY.
He was WORRIED about me.
I felt something warm and uncomfortable twist in my chest.
Stop it.
Stop feeling THINGS.
He's a strategic ally, not a—
"What kind of flowers?" I asked, because apparently I hate myself.
"Dark roses," Nyx said, and now he was definitely smirking. "Black, deep purple, blood red. Very on-brand for you. Very 'I'm courting the terrifying villainess and I know exactly what aesthetic appeals to her.'"
He knows my aesthetic.
He KNOWS my aesthetic and he's catering to it.
This man is DANGEROUS.
I finally managed to sit up properly, though my head was still pounding. I looked around the room and spotted a vase on my vanity—filled with the darkest, most beautiful roses I'd ever seen.
Okay.
Okay, those are STUNNING.
I'm keeping those.
I'm keeping ALL of those.
The roses were arranged perfectly—black ones in the center, surrounded by deep purple, with blood-red ones forming the outer ring. It looked like something from a gothic romance novel, if gothic romance novels were written by people who understood that darkness could be beautiful.
He PLANNED this.
He arranged them HIMSELF.
Or he told someone exactly how to arrange them.
Either way, it's PERFECT.
"How long until I'm back to normal?" I asked, dragging my attention away from the roses.
"You should be functional by this afternoon," Nyx said. "Fully recovered by tomorrow. But you'll need to be more careful about your magical reserves from now on. You know, like a responsible practitioner who doesn't treat her mana pool like an infinite resource."
Careful.
I need to be CAREFUL.
I hate being careful.
But I also hated wasting two days being unconscious, so I guess I'd have to learn.
"Fine," I said. "I'll pace myself. I'll be responsible. I'll be a good little dark mage who doesn't overextend herself."
Strategic restraint.
Pacing myself.
Being SMART about this instead of just throwing power at problems.
I can do that.
Probably.
Maybe.
"I'll believe that when I see it," Nyx said dryly. "You have the self-control of a toddler in a candy store. A toddler who's also been given access to forbidden magic and a cult following."
Fair.
Completely fair.
But I'm going to TRY.
I'm going to be STRATEGIC.
I'm going to—
"Celeste sent word," Nyx added. "She wants to know if you're recovered enough for curse training this afternoon."
Curse training.
CURSE TRAINING.
Finally.
This is what I've been WAITING for.
I felt energy surge through me despite the lingering exhaustion.
Yes.
YES.
I'm ready.
I'm SO ready.
"Tell her yes," I said immediately. "Tell her I'll be there."
"You just woke up from a two-day magical coma," Nyx pointed out. "Perhaps you should rest—"
"Tell her YES," I repeated. "I've wasted enough time being unconscious. I'm not wasting any more."
Nyx sighed—that long-suffering sigh he'd perfected. "You're going to kill yourself one of these days. And I'm going to have to find a new contractor. Do you know how annoying that process is?"
He cares.
He's pretending to be annoyed, but he CARES.
My sarcastic murder snake CARES about me.
This is the weirdest found family situation ever.
"I'll try not to die," I said. "For your convenience."
"How thoughtful," Nyx said. "Your consideration for my administrative burden is truly touching."
I love this snake.
I genuinely, deeply love this sarcastic asshole.