The rage the Coven had shown to its elders, however justified, had resulted in the kind of gruesome death that horrified me. My aunt had been practically torn apart, her skin bruised and leftin shreds as witches took out the wrath of all they’d almost lost under her and the rest of the Tribunal’s guidance.
It didn’t stop me from worrying for my mother, who had held as much affection and admiration for her sister as I thought her capable of. “And how long do you think it will take before Willow interferes in our customs further? She’s already supplanted the Covenant and placed herself upon their throne. It’s only a matter of time before she manipulates the Tribunal to serve her purposes,” a familiar voice said.
I recognized the voice of Keane’s uncle, Uriah Peabody, as I pressed myself into the wall beside the door they’d left cracked open. It seemed a foolish conversation to have in the open, but I realized that he likely didn’t care what Willow thought of him. Those who opposed her and her way of life had always been vocal about doing so, so certain in their beliefs and the actions they took in defense of them that they never stopped to wonder if they were the villain of their own story.
They never stopped to question whether or not Willow may have been right.
“Likely not long at all,” my mom said, but her voice lacked all the panic that Uriah’s had possessed. There was no urgency in the knowledge that she wouldn’t retain the Tribunal seat she’d gained with my aunt’s death, her matter-of-fact tone shocking me.
She’d worked all her life for that seat, endeavoring to earn her title as her sister’s heir every day of her life. She’d drilled that notion into me, wanting to see the same dedication from me even though I had no desire to serve as her heir. That title could go to one of my sisters when they were older or to my cousin for all I cared.
“Then how are you so calm? She’ll undo everything we have worked for,” Uriah said, his voice remaining low and quiet even as his anger grew.
“Relax, Uriah.” My mother sighed, the familiar sound of herheel tapping against the floor in her impatience. “Who is it that you think Willow will choose to represent the Erotes line on the Tribunal?”
I paused, understanding dawning as I realized what my mother believed would come to pass. Should the day arrive where Willow disagreed with who the legacies chose as their representatives on the Tribunal, it would stand to reason that she would plant the friend she could trust to drive the Reds of this Coven back toward balance.
She would choose me.
A rough breath left me as I shrank farther against the wall, pulling a book out of my book bag to pretend to read when other students passed me by and studied me curiously. I’d be late for my next class, but I couldn’t be bothered to care as I waited out the conversation.
What did Uriah mean when he spoke of what they’d been working for? Had they as heirs beenawareof what the previous Tribunal had attempted?
“Margot is no better than Willow. Did you not see her display at Willow’s side?” Uriah asked with a scoff. “We lost Itan because of her.”
My heart sank into my stomach, the condemnation in those words all the assurance I needed of what people thought of me. Whether they thought I’d lied or just did not care that it had happened in the first place mattered little.
All that mattered was that I didn’t matter to them at all.
“She is misguided in her allegiance to Willow, but we cannot fault her for seeking vengeance against Itan. The man raped her repeatedly for years,” my mother said, and I fought for breath as everything within me froze.
Had she put the pieces together after the Tribunal and realized I must have been telling the truth all that time?
“That may be, but Itan wasusefulto us, Fritha. Without him, we don’t have the ability to do the binding ritual—”
“I have done my part. I have sacrificed my daughter to the cause as the Covenant asked of me, even knowing the cost. Itan may be gone and unable to do it again in the future, but Margot has already been bound. Take comfort in the fact that Margot will be physically unable to do what Willow wants from her should she supplant me.”
A binding ritual?
I shoved my book into my bag, my entire body primed to run. I warred with myself, trying to decide if I should demand answers to the questions swimming in my mind or if I should seek out Willow and share what I’d learned.
“And what of the other houses? Our heirs are not friends with the new Covenant, and there’s no guarantee that they’ll be chosen to take our place. She could choose someone who has not been bound and destroy everything—”
“Then I suppose it is time to convince your heirs to befriend the little necromancer, isn’t it? Really, Uriah, not all wars are fought in bloodshed. Some of the most important battles are won in quiet manipulations. Think like the Red you are.Charm her,” my mother snapped, her heels clicking as she walked deeper into the room. I tucked myself against the wall, hugging the doorway in the hopes that Uriah wouldn’t see me when he yanked the door open, stomping his way across the landing.
He didn’t look back, leaving me to slip into the open door before I lost the nerve.
My steps were slow, cautious as I approached where my mother leaned over her desk, her eyes on the stack of papers before her as she scrawled a note. “Mom?” I asked, my voice wavering with the word. I didn’t want to consider that it could be true, that she could have known what Itan did prior to the day before.
She couldn’t have believed me when I was a child, couldn’t have known that I spoke the truth. To lie to my face and tell me it was just a nightmare would have been unforgivable. It would have been inconceivably cruel, and while she was far from perfect,I refused to believe she was that fucking empty inside that she would leave her own daughter to suffer that way.
She dropped her pen in surprise, turning wide eyes up to me for a moment before she recovered. That carefully crafted mask she’d handed down to me covered her face, a smooth smile tipping her lips up at the corners.
She was the personification of beauty and grace, of hiding everything she wanted to remain unseen in the darkest corners of herself. I’d never known just how deep her shadows ran, never expected the truth that I’d just overheard.
“Margot,” she said, standing to full height and coming to step around the desk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
There.
