I reached for my nose, remembering the efficient way she’d broken it a few months ago. Too many eyes watched me and whispered with their heads together. It was a viper's nest dressed in finery. I much preferred piracy where there was significantly less judgment and hidden meanings.
“This is terrible. How do you stomach it?” I asked, pulling at the collar that was choking me.
Oscar’s eyes twinkled as he sniffed and rubbed at his nose, laughing at the floor.
“Well, I don’t think I did stomach it well, did I?”
The laugh that loosed from my chest was genuine and unexpected. After Newgate, I wasn’t sure if I even remembered how to laugh. Leave it to Oscar to remind me.
He reached out and knocked on my hand twice.
“Emille’s handy work?” he asked.
I nodded, wishing I could flex the solid oak fingers. I missed my arm, but the alternative of becoming a wraith in the Glass Sea was less desirable.
“It even comes with a hook option,” I said.
Oscar whistled. “Fancy. I feel like we can work with that, but just so you know, you are going to have to come up with aless badass reason than being bitten by a wraith for the missing arm.”
“I don’t think fucking up is considered badass.” I joked.
Oscar shook his head, laughing. “You are a damn good pirate, but you're going to be shit at being a gentleman.”
“Hopefully it’s a temporary condition,” I said.
Oscar’s smile dissipated as did any humor hanging in the air. I felt the shift as much as my own heart beat and dreaded what came next.
“I don’t think it’s temporary, Bash. I don’t agree with what she did tonight, but if you leave her, she will never recover socially. This world will be lost to her.” Oscar said.
I watched Rose intermingle with her mother at her side. The smile on her face was genuine. It was tragic the faith she had in me. She should have known I only break what I touch. It took Billy over a decade to realize it, but now he was at the bottom of the sea because he believed in me when he shouldn’t have.
Oscar squeezed my arm. “We will figure it out. I can’t stay here forever either. Inu is my home, and this world would never welcome her, but more than that, she would hate it.”
Despite the morose melancholy seeping over me, I imagined Inu dressed like the woman here with their tight corsets and hidden meanings.
“She would pull out her sword within ten minutes,” I said.
“Absolutely not, it’d be more like five,” Oscar said, mock seriousness.
It would be easy to keep standing next to Oscar and avoiding the reality I was now in, but fear and anxiety only grew beneath repression.
“Might as well get it over with,” I said.
My father was standing back from the frey with his eyes locked on me. It was a summoning I knew well from our year together.
Oscar cleared his throat. “The powers that be really shit on you when they gave you him for a parent.”
I nodded, glad that Rose had already told him the truth of my heritage. I didn’t feel like reminiscing. Once with Billy and once with Rose was enough for a lifetime. It wasn’t particularly enjoyable to relive.
“Later, when we find some half-decent alcohol, we can talk about how absolutely insane your revenge plot is,” Oscar said.
I laughed, but caught it in a cough before I gave away I wasn’t approachable. So far, people eyed me like a dangerous animal, and it was keeping me from socializing. Rose was laughing at something her older sister said, and I loved how happy she looked. If I could bottle up the sound of her laugh, I would have a thousand times over.
I slipped away and took in the wealth of Fairview. It was evident in the chandelier and in the wood trimming, which was adorned with carvings that were both intricate and beautiful. It was a shame that what lived inside was rotting. Sebastian Smith was an old, bitter man, and it was written into the wrinkles on his face and the scowl he permanently wore.
When he saw me coming towards him, he raised a single eyebrow and turned, knowing I would follow him. I was a glutton for punishment if nothing else. The self-sabotage I created years ago was starting to smell like the wraith that took my arm.
Two obscenely large doors led down a hall with that tell-tale crimson carpet that was supposed to embody what it meant to be a Smith. Where the ballroom was bright and gold, the rest of Fairview was a tomb. Dark oak to excess, and the crest of the house smith carved into every surface. It was almost hard to fault Sebastian Smith for what he’d become, knowing that narcissism was drilled into him from infancy.
