“Speak clearly, Your Majesty,” I say through my teeth. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”
He takes a step closer, one that makes me shrink back. “Let me ask you this. If you learn where to find my fortune, what’s to stop you from taking it even if the curse isn’t broken?”
I swallow hard as a bead of sweat trickles behind my neck. He knows. He knows about my backup plan. Have I been that obvious?
“I’ll tell you what will stop you. Me. I will put every preventative measure in place to ensure you don’t get a single quartz chip if you fail your side of the bargain and let the curse claim my life.”
“Is that a threat?” I try for fierce, but my voice comes out with a tremor.
His, however, is calm, confident. “Yes, Miss Bellefleur, that’s a threat. I know better than to put my full trust in a human.”
Guilt sends my knees quaking. I hate that he’s right about my intentions. But he doesn’t have the whole story! He doesn’t know me or the pressures I face. He doesn’t understand that I don’t seek a backup plan because Iwanthim to die. I seek it because…because I’ll have nowhere to go if this fails.
I push my guilt away, burying it beneath mounds of indignation. Folding my arms over my chest, I burn him with a glare. “How dare you threaten me? How dare you act like you know my mind? You know nothing.”
“I know what humans are like. I’ve been living amongst them far longer than you’ve been alive. I’ve seen their follies, and trust me, your kind have no redeeming qualities. Each human I’ve met has been a thief, a liar, or a murderer to some degree.”
“You’re wrong. Not all humans are like that.”
“No? Can you honestly say you’ve never lied? Not once?”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “Of course I’ve lied before.”
“Well, I haven’t. I’m incapable of it.”
“And yet you were perfectly willing to deceive me. You tried to trick me into sacrificing my greatest treasure to free you from a curse you brought upon yourself. Don’t try to act like you’re so high and mighty. If you were able to lie, you’d do it all the time.”
His expression darkens, eyes flashing with rage. “I haven’t tried to deceive you once since we made our bargain. I’ve respected our arrangement. But have you done the same for me?”
My chest heaves, and I curl my fingers into fists. “What do you think I’ve been doing all week, if not respecting our bargain? Do you think I went through the tedious process of redecorating your manor because it’s fun? Do you think I relish the thought of having to interact with Imogen Coleman at a saintsforsaken dinner party? No! I do it because it’s necessary for our plan to work. I could very easily put far less effort into our arrangement and still fulfill my end of our bargain. But, no, I created a solid plan because I want this to work.”
He shakes his head, a snarl curling his lips. “That’s so human of you to evade my question and make yourself seem honorable instead.”
“I’m telling the truth. I don’t want you to die.”
He goes still, silent, gaze boring into me for several tense moments. Then, finally, his voice comes out cold and quiet. “Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you wouldn’t take my money if I died.”
I hold his gaze but can’t find my voice.
“You can’t say a thing because you know I’m right.”
Yes, he’s right. He’s so right that I hate myself for it and hate him even more for confronting me about it. He has no right to make me feel this way! I’m certain that if our roles were reversed, he’d do the same thing. Worse, even. There’s no doubt in my mind that he would betray me simply for the sake of his vindictive pleasure alone. All because I’m human. A disgusting creature in his eyes.
I take a step closer, rage dripping from my tongue. “You know what? You and Imogen deserve each other.” Then, turning on my heel I storm from the room, blinking away angry tears with every step.
22
Ispend much of my time the following week alone in my room. With the majority of the remaining work on the manor well under Foxglove’s control, my presence is not as vital to operations as it was before. More than that, I’m avoiding Elliot. I still can’t shake our conversation, with equal parts rage and guilt taking up residence in my heart. Just when I started to think the wolf king was a decent creature, he ruined everything.
Or did I ruin everything?
The day of the dinner arrives, sending my nerves into a roiling mess. All duties of preparation must be overseen by me, so I can no longer hide out in my room. Our meager event staff arrives, and I walk them through their tasks. Bertha begins her work in the kitchen, grateful for the extra assistance I’ve hired for her today. I remind the manor’s residents to remain on their best behavior, which includes general hygiene and politeness. Most will make themselves scarce when our guests arrive and will be rewarded by a hearty dinner of their own in the kitchens.
The thought of guests fills me with dread. I already know I’ll be forced to endure Imogen’s company. We’ve corresponded a few times since I sent the invitation, with me planting all the right seeds to bloom unwittingly inside her. Her last letter assured me she’s selected the most important families in town for Mr. Rochester to get acquainted with, which I know is code forthe families in town who pose the littlest threat to her marital schemes.
Which might also translate topeople in town I desperately dislike.
With the latter in mind and all preparations underway, I get dressed for dinner, attending to my own clothing and hair. I haven’t gathered the nerve to return to Father’s townhouse to fetch any of my belongings, so I’ve continued to rotate through the dresses in the wardrobe. Today I choose one in a sage color, the design similar to the others with its simple, unadorned style and plunging neckline and back. I’ve grown used to the soft material and layered skirts, almost regretting that I never had Amelie make me any new dresses while she was fitting the king.
