Closing the cupboard, I glanced around for my flip-flops then decided to take a page out from the master of this Cinderkeep’s playbook and go barefoot instead.
I knew where there was wine.
In his kitchen.
There were multiple bottles of every kind.
So what I was about to commit daylight robbery? So what I might be using the excuse of wine-hunting to check on him? So what I was worried about him and felt responsible?
Striding from my pavilion, I squinted against the bright sun and made my way through the impressive estate. Staying on the thick, carpet-like grass, I made my way to the black stone palace in the distance.
All around me, birds flitted and sang, bumblebees darted and buzzed, and the many little streams running like veins from one central heart babbled and bubbled. If I was a painter, I might be inspired to capture such countryside perfection.
But painting required far too much concentration.
I wasn’t lying when I said I was lazy.
Yes, I had to avoid all kinds of stress, but I genuinely enjoyed just watching the world go by rather than participating in it.
The moment I had some medication in the form of apple-blossom wine, I would spend the rest of the day giving my poor hands time to heal from their blisters. However, the moment I rounded a hedge of camellias, all those plans popped like bubbles.
Slamming to a stop, my toes dug into the grass.
Most of the women—at least the ones still alive—lounged in a sun-drenched garden like smug cats. Some sat beneath the shade of an intricately carved sala, while others lay on plaid blankets in full light.
Platters of fruit and cheese waited to be devoured. One blonde girl poured glasses of icy liquid, the pitcher dripping in the morning summer heat.
My mouth watered.
They all went deathly silent the second they saw me.
“Well, well,” a nameless girl purred. “You were telling the truth, Evelyn. Sheisstill alive.”
“Didn’t think you’d survive past the first hour,” another added, smirking over her glass. “After seeing how you turned catatonic in the ballroom that first day, every breath you take is through sheer dumb luck.”
Laughter rippled.
I crossed my arms and tried to look tougher than I was. “Morning to you too.”
“Morning?” one scoffed. “It’s practically noon.”
The chorus of giggles stung like nettles.
Shifting to leave, my gaze caught on a girl with mousy brown hair, naturally pink lips, and stunningly blue eyes. She didn’t join in the others laughing, sitting on the outskirts, knees tucked up and arms wrapped around herself. Her no-nonsense jeans and white t-shirt said she might fall into the same category I did: mistake.
Giving her a quick smile, I padded away from the group only—
The girl shot to her feet.
The others hurled their hate in her direction instead of mine.
“Remind us again howyou’restill alive?” A couple of girls giggled. “You’re such a waste of space, Laura.”
“You’re still wearing the same clothes as when you were thrown in here. Have you been living under a bush?” More laughter.
“I’m guessing you smell so bad now, even the panther refuses to eat you.”
Laura blushed, her shoulders rounding as she hugged herself.
