He releases me. “Apologies.” He does not sound apologetic in the least.
Do I move simply because another wills it? No. I am finished living for others. It stops here. “Why should I return with y-you? I was enjoying my evening. Just because you wish to return to the palace doesn’t mean I’m obligated to.”
“You are my assistant,” he says.
“Captive,” I correct him with a hiss, “and I have done my part. Eastern Blood is r-ready. All you need to do is win the damn tournament and dole it out like you intend.”
The rain, which falls in heavy sheets, blurs the East Wind behind an amorphous gray stretch. “Speak a little louder, will you?” he growls.
I do not care. What was it he said all those weeks ago, when I was trapped by the desperate need to alter my fate?Trust no one. Not even me.
Lady Clarisse was right. I am the queen of fools.
Turning on my heel, I stride as quickly as possible through the rain-drenched streets.Run, I think.He cannot catch you.But it is one stupid thought after another. The East Wind would launch skyward, swoop low to snag me on scaled wings. I will not relive that indignity.
To his credit, he does not attempt to resume the conversation until we are back in the suite, door shut and locked. Gloom enshrouds the space as I toe off my damp shoes near the door. The evening held such promise. Now it’s just a pile of shreds.
“Why are you acting like this?” Eurus eventually says, peering at me warily from where he stands by the dining table.
“Why amIacting like this?” I scoff. “How about taking accountability for your own actions f-first.”
To this, he says, “All I want is to talk.”
I begin searching for a means to light a lamp. “I believe our definitions oftalkare vastly different. I saytalkand m-mean discussion. You saytalkand mean t-t-telling me what to do! And just so you know,” I add, flinging a withering glare over my shoulder, “I didn’t appreciate your treatment of me back there.”
He runs both hands through his wet hair. “I’m sorry, I…” He sighs. “It was time to go.”
“Says who?” I search the side tables, feel along the fireplace mantel. Where is the flint? “I was having a nice evening. What gives you the right to decide how I spend m-my time?” In my stuttering and sopping state, I do not pose much of a threat, but that cannot be helped. At least I am speaking my mind. It is, I think, everything.
“You are in my employment,” he states. “If I say it’s time to go, then it’s time to go. That was the deal.”
And he cuts continually deeper. “Right,” I whisper. “Because it always comes back to what y-y-you want from me, is that it?” I brushpast him. Eurus is who he is. I cannot change him, and I wonder why I even believed it was possible.
“Where are you going?” he demands.
“To bed.” I shove my bedroom door open—hard. A picture frame rattles loose and hits the ground.
I’ll clean it up in the morning. I need sleep, which is deaf and blind and will take me from this place. To think that in this moment I would trade the opulence of the palace for the estate’s cramped broom cupboard. At least there I knew what to expect.
Eurus dogs my heels, sweeping into the room with a cloud of crackling air. “You don’t want to talk?”
“Not really, no.” I remove my rain-damp coat and squeeze water from my hair. Eurus monitors me without blinking, and for half a heartbeat, I wish for his hood to cover his face so that I will be spared the confusion and hurt I find there.
“Clearly I’ve done something to offend you,” he grinds out.
“Yes, Eurus,” I cry, whirling around. “Your entireexistenceoffends me!”
He stiffens, and his eyes grow dark and wounded. His wings, those gleaming, arched peaks, slump lower toward the ground.
My stomach cramps. That was too far, even for me. I did not mean to suggest it would be better if he did not exist at all, but I fear I have done exactly that. “I’m s-sorry,” I mutter. “That was unkind.” And not true.
I rub at my eyes, suddenly exhausted beyond measure. “Look, it’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Though I dread what I might say. I could never have imagined desiring the East Wind in a romantic way. That I believed—hoped—he felt similarly proves how wrong I have been—about everything. “I think it’s best if w-we take space from one another tonight.”
“Space.” He spits the word as I proceed to turn down my bed, fluffing the pillows to my desired softness. “Why, so you can find comfort in the arms ofKip?”
My hands pause on the fabric. Slowly, I turn to face him, strangely breathless. When I speak, there is no stumbling over my own tongue.No, for once, my words are perfectly, succinctly clear. “Are you jealous?”
His black eyes flatten with a primordial chill. “You liked him.”
