I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the bar.My one saving grace this evening is that I look good.
And I really do.This dress hugs my body in a way that is making every man, woman and magician look my way.
Morrigan catches me checking myself out and rolls her eyes at me.
I sneer at her.“What?Some of us take pride in our appearance.”Slowly and with every ounce of poison I have in my body, I drag my eyes down her mundane black outfit.
Her mouth puckers.“Do you have to be such a bitch?”
“Maybe keep your judgemental eyes to yourself and I won’t have to be.”
“Girls, for the love of my sanity,” Mother hisses.
“Your Majesty,” Lord Mosel says as he walks past.
“Your Grace.”Mother nods and turns back to her friends.
As he moves past me, I stiffen.He was one of the Roman associates I tried to negotiate a deal with.He could well be the one sending me death threats.
He grips my arm and moves me to the side.His fingers are so tight it makes my eyes water.Morrigan, bless her sisterly soul, catches the movement and flicks her fingers, bending and contorting them while they hang at her side.
Mosel coughs, lets go of my arm and bends forward, his face blotching red.
I rub my wrist, unable to meet Morrigan’s eyes.Reluctantly, through gritted teeth I mumble, “Thanks.”
My decrepit bodyguard appears, too late to be of use.
“It’s fine,” I say and shove past him.
He flusters, useless and dithering, and proceeds to retreat back to the wall.He does, at least, follow my movements as I stride through the bar.
It stings having to thank Morrigan.But what makes my stomach curl and froth is the fact I can’t defend myself with magic like her.I’m a fucking princess for god’s sake we’re supposed to be powerful.It’s degrading.
Lavinia—a girl I’d rather not know—shoves past me.
“Watch it,” I say.
“Watch yourself, Penelope.I haven’t forgotten what you did.”
“Get over it already.”
She leans into my face, “I was in love with him, and you fucked him.And for what purpose?You could have anyone you wanted, you’re a fucking princess, and instead you went for someone taken.What was it?Spite?Boredom?Revenge for me stealing your fucking homework in year six?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Lavinia.I don’t think enough of you to bother with revenge.”
Her eyes bug wide, and she shakes her head at me.“You really are just as much of a bitch as everyone makes out you to be.”
“And your boyfriend is a womanising whore.He offered himself on a plate, and I had an itch to scratch.What can I say, still itching, so you can keep him.”
“Itching from chlamydia, no doubt.”
I huff out a snide laugh.“You’re pathetic.”
“And you’re a bitter, lonely whore.But we all have our crosses to bear.”
There’s a guy glaring at her from the edge of the room with the kind of possessive stare that a lion gives its prey.
“I’d be careful leaving your new boyfriend for too long, you never know when a bitter, lonely whore will find themselves in need of entertainment.”
