Closing her eyes, she made a decision. When she opened them again, her dark brown irises had gone distant and glassy. “Do you trust her?” Voice sore and covered in rust, she nodded at the Doorman.
Beatriz paused, taken aback, before answering quietly. “Yes. Entirely.”
Elysia nodded. “Then you both might want to sit. I’ll tell you everything. If you don’t want to know, I understand, but you’ll need to leave.”
A smirk curled across the Doorman’s face, lightening Elysia’s heavy words. “Ms. Parker, I would think we’re past that given we have a murder under our belts.”
Elysia’s face wrinkled even as she nodded in reluctant agreement. Beatriz sighed, staring up at the ceiling, muttering about not being able to get any peace.
She’d thought it would be cleansing to finally tell it all. That it would at the very least bring relief to fill in all the gaps of Beatriz’s knowledge, considering she’d only known of the haunting dreams plaguing her sleep. Especially when there was so much more to tell. From the secrets that enchanted her to the blackmail of their father and the prince hunting her into the sea.
She didn’t labor over his betrayal. Mainly because she couldn’t even bring herself to speak his name. The very thought of him filled her with an anger that demolished all reason and set a painful fire to the love that had once consumed her heart and blinded her eyes.
Heart full of ashes, she didn’t feel relieved at all after telling them everything. She felt as if a cold excavation had been done. Her ribs torn asunder, splayed and pinned out wide like moth wings, revealing all that washerfor them to dissect and reject.
Beatriz, for once in her life, sat with no words breaking the thin line of her lips. She just sat, stunned, until a familiar indignation overtook her. She shook her head as if that could change what she just heard.
Her voice was a sharp whisper. “I am soangrythat you did not tell me about Father.”
Showing rare restraint, she blew air out through her nose like a fire breathing beast before continuing. “But I know... I know that I have given you no reason to trust me. All that you know of me is what I’ve shown you and the rest of the world. I would have gotten you out of there. I just—I thought you wanted that life. I thought you loved being a daddy’s girl, always sitting in allthose meetings and having the entire court fawn over you. I saw the way you looked at that crown, at Topp,like they were your salvation, but I didn’t understand.” Tears filled her hard, gray eyes.
Elysia stared at her hands, not wanting to see the soft lines of pity on her sister’s face. “I thought I could make it work. That if I worked hard enough, pretended well enough—that I would be safe. That I could really be one of them.”
She swallowed hard and looked up, eyes dull and bleak. “But I will never be one of them, and I was foolish to think I could be. There will never be a woman with undead gifts and a crown on her head. Not in this land.” Her fingers tightened on the brown bottle. “It was a delusion. Necessary to survive, but a delusion, nonetheless.”
A sudden knock on the door startled them all.
The sight of who stood in the door frame had apprehension filling Elysia’s voice as she struggled to sit up straighter against all the pillows. “What are you doing here?”
The woman entered cautiously, eyes roving from face to face. Elysia couldn’t blame her—Beatriz and the Doorman had both shoved to their feet, practically blocking Elysia from sight as they stood like guards.
Elysia tugged on her sister’s off-white button-down shirt that looked like it belonged to a man. “Stop it. Both of you. This is Mari. She’s a part of the group I was telling you about. She’s friends with Rollie.”
Beatriz’s unsettling stare did not falter. If anything, it grew even more unhinged, her eyes narrowing. “The people who expected you to poison the entire court, kill a diplomat, and almost drown solving their stupid fucking riddle?”
Elysia picked at the forest green blanket. “Technically, they just wanted a distraction… The killing was really for yourgirlfriend. Debts to be paid to the House and all...” Elysia trailed off, realizing she definitely was not helping matters.
The mythic Doorman of House Gardenia withered at how Beatriz tensed. She busied herself straightening the already perfectly organized tonics on the nightstand. Silver hair swinging, Beatriz turned her glare to Mari, uncaring if the woman deserved her wrath or not. “Well, what do you want?” The words were clipped and sharp enough to poke her eye out.
Ah, there was the Beatriz that Elysia knew and loved. So warm, so fuzzy.
Mari edged around the small bed, opting for the side that was free of Elysia’s newfound bodyguards. Her usual bold and sunny countenance seemed faded. She clutched an old book in her hands. Black with gold embossments and gilded edges, it looked familiar as it glinted in the light. Setting the book down, one hand grabbed onto a bedpost, her brow creasing in thought.
“I heard you stayed. Fought the king’s men and even the prince himself.”
Beatriz grumbled about her sister having rocks for brains.
Elysia shrugged, twinging at the pain in her ribs. “We all know it was my fault they found us. The prince followed me.”
Elysia shushed her sister’s objections, but Mari continued staring at Elysia thoughtfully. She finally spoke. “I don’t think I judged you wrong. You’re ignorant and selfish, but not malicious.”
Elysia swallowed, absorbing the woman’s observations. Her tone was neutral, objective even, which only made it worse. She had been evaluated and this was the conclusion.
Mari’s brow went up in surprise as she kept talking, her thumbs brushing against the uneven pages of the book. “Even Jessa had to admit afterward that it seemed unlikely you knew what was going to happen. She lived, by the way, thanks to youmaking sure everyone got onto the beach. She was able to escape when she woke up in the wagon they’d all been loaded in.”
She looked down, away from Elysia’s gaze. “There’s quite a few people who didn’t make it, though. Both ones who fought and ones who traveled. They had more men scattered around the shores waiting—imagine their surprise when we popped out of thin air right in front of them.” She ran a hand over her hair, tiny baby hairs bouncing free from her thick braid. “Shit fucking luck.”
Her warm brown eyes betrayed her sadness, and guilt rose in Elysia. No one would ever see those people again unless it was dead in the main square. But the king was efficient, smart. People disappearing without rhyme or reason was just as effective for putting the fear in the masses as a head lopped off on a Sunday afternoon. He knew when each method was needed and used them accordingly.
