She scoots her stool even closer and lifts her hands. I tense. “No, please—”
Ignoring me, her palms clasp over my ears, making me shudder, while something inside of me shudders too. My back stiffens, muscles locked up. Nearly paralyzed.
“Repeat after me.”
My eyes get caught in the net of her gazing stripes.
“I was a traitor.”
My lips follow hers.
The digging goes deeper, and in those holes, I see myself. See myself falling at the king’s feet, begging for mercy, telling him I was wrong as lightning streaked across the lavender sky.
No…not lightning. It was a crack. In a ceiling. In a wall. A housebreaking…
There was thunder, but it ripped out like a scream.
I close my eyes, feeling something squirming within the dark, emptied depths of my mind, trying to shove up through the hollows.
“Focus,” Una snaps.
Her voice pulls me in, while something else oozes out.
“Repeat after me,” she commands again, her voice droning.
My mind flashes, the squirming stops, and I see myself bowing for the king. The memory shoves in, presses down, trying to fit into the gaps.
“I was a traitor.”
My voice melts with hers, eyes opening.
“I turned myself in.”
Her fingernails dig deeper against the sides of my head.
“King Carrick is merciful. He will let me live if I atone.”
My lips lash out every word. Monotone. Filling up every available space, gorging on it, near-bursting. Stuffing into my pitted mind with forceful shoves.
“I am loyal.”
Loyal.
“I am beholden to his benevolence.”
Beholden.
Her striped eyes bore into me, fingers digging into my ear, caterpillars munching through my forgetfulness. Filling up the holes with dirt that doesn’t seem to fit.
“I am lucky to be here.”
Lucky.
That word gets caught in the dripping ceiling. Swells and sticks.
Lucky?
“Yes, very lucky. Most traitors are killed. You have agreed to make yourself useful to the king and do whatever he asks.”
