Other Lives Read Online Free PDF

holding her hand, whispering something to her ear. 
    He thought of another party, another occasion when the marquis had asked them to lift their cups for the woman he would marry. He downed his wine. It’s sweet taste lingered in his mouth.   
    This was no proper, official engagement. But Darius, impulsive as always, had decided he must have a small celebration to show his choice of a bride. Later they would go through the drudgery of customary announcements and plans. Today was a feast of Darius’ ego, for he must show her off, like a man a parading a prize horse.  
    “We should toast to Nikolaos,” Darius said, a little drunk by now. “For finding this unique woman, the best bride there can be.”
    Unique. Of course she was unique. Such a pretty deadly thing.
    “Thank you, dear Nikolaos.”
    Nikolaos smirked. Darius thought she was his, when Nikolaos knew she’d wanted him instead. The problem was, despite the lingering dread in his heart every time he glanced at Miranda, Nikolaos wanted her too.  
     
    ***
     
    Her maid had asked permission to toast to her engagement with some of the other servants and Miranda agreed. Her aunt would have disapproved of this decision, but Miranda didn’t care anymore. 
    After her maid left, she tossed a blanket over the mirror, blocking her reflection from sight. 
    Miranda brushed her hair, running the comb through a knot and glanced at the hidden mirror. 
    She shivered and extended her hand, ready to pull the covering off. She stilled herself, letting the blanket in its place, shielding herself from the reflection.   
     
    ***
     
    She woke up with a start, the nightmare still clinging to her. In the dream she had seen him fall, tumble towards a never ending abyss. 
    There was another knock at the door and Miranda rose, still confused from her dreams, her bare feet making no sound. 
    Miranda opened the door and Nikolaos was there, safe and sound. She felt herself smile. 
     
    8 
     
    She was lighting more candles. The dim glow of the room created odd shadows as she drifted, her hair unbound. 
    “Stop that,” he ordered, uncomfortable with all her nervous pacing. “I can see fine.”
    “Well then?” she asked, going back to his side. “What is it?”
    “You have some wine?”
    “No,” she said, folding her arms. “What is it?”
    He found his voice, and it was calm. It all came out easily. 
    “In three nights’ time I will be leaving this place. You must be ready to come with me then.”
    Miranda stared at him in disbelief and shook her head. “Are you mad?”
    “No.”
    “Everything is as you wanted. I am marrying him, and now you want me to leave?”
    “It is complicated. I’ve done something wrong Miranda, something very wrong.”  
    “What?” she whispered.
    His eyes darted towards the shadows, away from her. He couldn’t make himself look at her.
    “Darius, his wife…I did know his wife, I knew her well. We were in love … only he wanted her. There was nothing she could do; her family agreed to the marriage and they were wed. 
    “She did not love him. She loved me, and I loved her back. She feared Darius. She told me he could be a terrible man. Darius and I fought together during the campaign at Lavart. He was cruel in battle, but isn’t that natural when facing your enemy?
    “There had been a prostitute at Lavart. Darius decked her in jewels, made her his official mistress. Eventually they quarreled. He was displeased with her and wanted her gone. He didn’t have to worry about her much longer since she died suddenly. 
    “I never thought much about the incident. Many people died during the campaign, what was one prostitute? I thought about it later. I thought about it when Darius’ wife died too.”
    Miranda drew her breath in sharply. “Are you saying Darius killed them?”
    “She committed suicide. Elara would have never committed suicide,” Nikoalos said. “She told me she was afraid of him. Then she kills herself? No. No,