Jessa’s eyebrows drew together in anger. “Do you have any idea how many favors I pulled to get us that meeting with the meela?”
Throat still burning, Elysia snorted and spun around on her stool to watch the locals. Faces smudged with dirt and soot, she knew they’d all spent the day working hard while frozen to the bone and breathing in Relaclave’s noxious air. And yet they still managed to laugh and rib each other over glasses of alcohol that set fire to their bellies.
“I’m fucking talking to you, Parker.”
Elysia turned back around slowly. Aggravating Jessa was as easy as pissing off her sister. She looked up dryly. “And?”
Jessa closed her eyes, mouth moving as she silently counted to ten.
“Does that actually work for you? The counting?”
“Listen here, you sniveling Crown brat, we had a deal and you’re not backing out now just because you’re scared. Grow up and keep your word.”
“Can’t. Decided I’m leaving.” She waved a hand in a circle above her head and pulled a face. “Take a look around, Jessa. Do you really think this is worth dying for? I don’t. So, I’m not going to, sorry.”
Jessa’s mouth was half open, ready to fire back when she paused, comprehension dawning. She grabbed the Sap and poured herself a fresh glass. Taking a sip, she wiped her mouth and stuck a finger in Elysia’s face as she started back in. “Motherfucker. You almost had me. But, nope. Not buying it. Whatever this is, it's bullshit.”
Godsdammit. She dug her heels in. “Doesn’t matter what you think. Either way, it’s off. I’m leaving.”
Lips pressed tight, Jessa leaned over the bar, dark hair swinging. Her voice lowered, its natural rasp harsh as she shone a light on everything Elysia hadn’t said.
“Let me guess, someone got in your face, pressed on all the right places and now you’re just giving up. Gods, are you even capable of making a decision for yourself? Or have you been a puppet for so long that you don’t even know how?” Her disgust was audible.
Elysia bathed in the shame Jessa willingly poured over her. It was almost heady to hear someone voice aloud the terrible things she knew about herself. Bittersweet confirmation rolled through her, ripping open every old scar and wound.Worthless. Stupid. Spineless.
Jessa’s voice got louder, angry that she wasn’t taking her bait. “So, what changed? Who’s pulling your strings now, Elysia? Because I know this isn’t what you want. Who is it this time, huh?”
Elysia’s mouth was moving before she could stop herself. Her words were fast and voice louder than she would have liked. “It never would have worked! Some half-baked plan from a tavern owner and the Crown’s favorite fool? As if we could steal Kava’s magic back from agod.”
She laughed wildly, shaking her head.
Jessa’s smile ate up her whole face, her catlike eyes sharp as ever. “Why’d you come here then? Did you think I was going to pat your back and feel sorry for you? Tell you that it’s okay? Poor, Crown bitch. Poor, poor baby.”
She pointed at the door. “You want to leave? Then get out of my damn tavern and don’t come back until your head is on straight. I amnotthe one to come to with your whining bullshit. People are dying, Elysia, and they will keep dying unless something is done. But go ahead, run off.” A note of disappointment tempered her anger.
She grabbed a cloth and began to polish the bar roughly. “As if the prince or your father wouldn’t find you wherever you went.”
Nodding silently, Elysia inhaled the poison of Jessa’s words, making sure to feel each and every bit of the pain. She stood, pushing away from the bar, and looked Jessa dead in the eyes.
“You’re right. But I’m a spineless, selfish Crown bitch. What else did you expect?”
She snatched the bottle of Sap off the bar and threw down the rest of her change.
“For your trouble.” Crown oil oozed from her words, and she grinned at the snarl on Jessa’s face.
And then she swept out of the bar like a queen with her disgusting cloak and shitty bottle of gin in tow. Beatriz wasn’t the only person in this family who could do a bender. She could still hear Jessa shouting obscenities as the door slammed shut behind her.
Weaving through the streets of Relaclave, she tugged the wool cloak tighter around her body. She wasn’t sure if it was the cloak, the bottle that she swigged, or her general attitude that was keeping the people at bay, but no matter what street she took, everyone was giving her a wide berth. Aimless, she’d walked far enough that the desecrated temple of the god of death was in sight.
She stalked forward, stopping to stare up at the ruins. Giant hunks of stone littered the raised concrete platform. Covered in her home’s trademark soot, only the barest hints of white peeked out through the grime. She remembered Rollie telling her the stones had once been a giant skull, large enough to house priestesses and worshippers at once.
Polishing off the last of the gin, she lifted the bottle overhead and flung it at the stone ruins. The glass burst, the sound loud against the silence of the night. “FUCK YOU, YOU USELESS, THIEVING?—”
“Excuse me.”
There was a tug on her cloak. Elysia turned to find a small girl with dirt-brown eyes looking at her in displeasure.
“What?” She gestured at the temple, glaring down at the child. “Kind of busy here.”
