Chapter 10: Chapter 10

The Dark Noble Book 1: The Dark NobleWords: 6407

KAMORA

“My lord?” Kamora asked, just as Jarosh exclaimed, “Really?”

Lord Maroke nodded stiffly.

“Greyson mentioned that you might be bored. I was thinking of ways to alleviate this problem of yours, and I think this is a great idea.”

He looked at Kamora, who was still shocked by his agreement.

“However, I can’t help but worry about your safety.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jarosh said quickly, waving his hands.

“I’ll take some guards with me.”

“That would make you too conspicuous in public, wouldn’t it, Kamora?”

Realizing he had asked her a question, she nodded quickly.

“You’re right, my lord. It might attract unwanted attention.”

Jarosh frowned for a moment. Then his eyes lit up.

“We’ll wear disguises. That way, we can blend in easily.”

Kamora sighed.

He really was determined to go out.

“That might work,” she said, defeated.

“Great, then it’s settled,” Jarosh said, unable to hide his happiness.

“We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Lord Maroke nodded, then stood up.

“All settled then.” He stared at Kamora a moment too long before giving his son a soft pat on the head.

“Perhaps after your outing, you can tell me all about it.”

He walked out of the room, leaving both Kamora and Jarosh stunned by the rare display of affection, awkward as it was.

“Father is acting strangely,” Jarosh said with a frown, his eyes distant.

She agreed with him and glanced at the doorway.

Her racing heart had finally calmed, but the ache still lingered in her chest.

“Why don’t we plan for our outing tomorrow?” Kamora suggested, hoping to shift the mood.

Her words worked like magic. Jarosh’s eyes brightened, and he smiled giddily.

***

As soon as Lord Maroke closed the doors to his study, his hand flew to his chest.

A sharp jolt of pain made him stumble, barely catching himself before he collapsed.

He braced against the wall, then staggered to his desk and slumped into the seat behind it, fingers tightening around his clothes as if sheer will could suppress the pain.

Back in his son’s room, he had barely managed to maintain composure.

Now, the agony surged again—raw and unfamiliar.

Or perhaps…forgotten.

His mind drifted toward Kamora, and the pain intensified like fire tightening around his ribs.

This had to be his curse.

But why?

Who was she, that his body reacted so violently in her presence?

He inhaled deeply, trying to empty his thoughts of her. Slowly, the pain ebbed, leaving only a dull pressure.

Nearly an hour passed before it fully faded.

He made a mental note to instruct Greyson to dig deeper into Kamora’s past.

There was nothing outwardly special about her—no reason she should trigger the curse.

Yes, she was beautiful in an understated, innocent way. Everything about her seemed untouched by malice—a quality he’d learned to distrust.

That alone ruled out the possibility she was his long-lost wife. Anything that was too good to be true usually was.

He had once asked Greyson whether any image of her existed, but the incident had happened long before portraits could be created.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes. His thoughts shifted to Jarosh.

His son seemed…calmer around Kamora.

The past few days had been remarkably peaceful. Claudia had commented on it more than once.

Maybe Kamora was what his son needed.

He, on the other hand, had no intention of remarrying.

A fresh stab of pain shot through his chest and he winced.

The gesture felt strange—unnatural.

He would speak to his healer.

There had to be something that could ease these unpredictable spells.

***

Kamora lay down on her mat, exhaling deeply as her head sank into the crook of her arm.

Sleep eluded her as her mind replayed her recent encounter with Lord Maroke.

After his departure, she and Jarosh spent the evening planning their little outing.

It had taken considerable coaxing to get the Fae lord to bed. His excitement was palpable.

The thought of stepping beyond the manor’s walls for the first time had him nearly glowing.

Still, she couldn’t shake the surprise from earlier.

She had expected Lord Maroke to reject Jarosh’s request outright.

The commoners’ market wasn’t exactly a nobleman’s playground.

But instead, he had agreed.

So easily.

She sighed again, the sound soft in the quiet room.

There was something about him.

Something she didn’t understand.

Whenever their eyes met, a strange pull twisted in her chest.

Her heart always reacted—fast, frantic—and she couldn’t tell if it was fear…or something else entirely.

The way he looked at her—intense, unreadable—left her with chills that lingered far longer than they should.

She tried to stop thinking, tried to close her eyes and will herself into sleep.

Eventually, fatigue won.

***

The darkness was absolute.

Not even a sliver of light cut through it.

Kamora inhaled sharply, forcing herself to breathe, to keep from panicking.

Kamora.

The voice echoed in her mind—deep, commanding. ~Lord Maroke’s.~

She knew it wasn’t real, yet she whispered back, “Who’s there? Where am I?”

No reply.

She kept repeating the questions, her voice thin and uncertain, until a sudden blaze of light erupted through the darkness.

Shielding her eyes with her arm, she winced at the brightness.

When the glare faded, she lowered her arm and saw the image.

It was her.

But not quite.

The girl before her stood tall and noble.

Her eyes gleamed with joy, her smile serene.

Long hair flowed past her waist, free and unbound.

She looked at peace. In love.

Kamora’s breath caught.

The sight felt like a memory—one just out of reach.

~“It’s so beautiful”~, the other her whispered. ~“I was right.”~

Kamora stared, searching the image for others, anyone who might speak.

~“I knew you would enjoy it.”~

~“Just take a deep breath. You’ll be okay.”~

~“I’ll manage.”~

Who was she speaking to?

Kamora’s heart pounded.

She needed to know. Needed to understand.

She took a step forward, but the vision remained unchanged, as if frozen in time.

~“You both will suffer!”~ a shrill voice cried out.

The peaceful illusion shattered.

A new scene bled into view.

Blood. So much blood.

The memory gripped her throat like a vice.

She had seen this before, too many times.

But still it tore the scream from her lips.

Terror overwhelmed her.

It was too much.

It was all…too much.