Lies. I grit my teeth and sweetly say, “I’m sorry I can’t help you with that.”
She nods, then heads for the door. “If you’ll allow it, I’ll find Clara and help her with your dinner.”
“Very well.”
She makes her way to the door, pausing with her fingers on the handle. Whipping around, she says, “Fall to your knees now. That’s a direct order from Mrs. Coleman.”
Pain surges through me, scorching my insides. It doubles, triples, made worse by my refusal to bend. To move. To react.
Imogen’s eyes widen. “I relay Mrs. Coleman’s orders to you. Obey.”
Another surge of pain, lashing my insides like molten blades. With a deep, steadying breath, I take one step. Then another. Another. My head feels like it will explode as my vision blurs at the edges. I keep my expression steady, my movements controlled. Imogen’s shoulders slump, her face paling with every step I take toward her.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” she says. “It was just a test.”
I stop before her. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, human, but I’ve had enough. You are relieved from your position. Your sister may remain in my service, but I never want to see your face again.”
For the first time, my stepsister looks truly terrified. “Forgive me—”
“No. Get out.”
She turns the handle and flees from my room. I slam it shut behind her and run for my washroom. Gripping my stomach with one hand, I lock the door with the other and sink to the floor. Agony pulls me down. Down. Burning. Choking. Slicing.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I curl up on the cool floor.
I’m obeying, I’m obeying,I repeat to myself, rocking side to side.Imogen doesn’t speak for my stepmother. Her words were false. There’s nothing to obey. Nothing to punish me for.
The pain begins to lessen, but even when it fades back into the subtle ache I’m used to, I’m still unable to move. A while later, Clara knocks on the washroom door announcing she’s returned with my dinner. I dismiss her for the night. There’s no way I can face her. Not when I’m this broken and out of sorts.
I remain on the washroom floor, sobbing until my tears cease to flow.
34
FRANCO
In raven form, I fly over the palace grounds, feeling the cool night breeze ripple over my feathers. This is exactly what I needed after the day I’ve had. First was the lake, then my game of questions with Em. Then the kiss.
The kiss.
A nothing of a kiss.
I shake the memory from my mind. No thoughts, just flight. That’s what I need, especially after spending the last several hours in talks about the upcoming ball. Normally, I would leave such plans to Augie or Nyxia’s advisors, who would then hand it all off to the palace stewards and master of ceremonies. That’s what I did with the New Moon Masquerade. Nyxia allowed me to organize it, which meant I put very little effort into it at all. This time, though, I think it should be different. Nothing radical, just…a slight shift.
I circle the lawn a few times. All around the palace, the nocturnal fae come to life. Wisps bob over Lake Artemisa, kitsune chase each other, nipping at the flames that hover over their tails, banshees wail in the distance, and the silhouette of a moon dragon flits over the mountain range to the north.
My instincts call me to the forest, where sounds and smells beckon me forth. I’m about to follow them when something else snags my attention. It isn’t an instinctual pull, but something else. Something that tugs my seelie side.
I fly toward it, following it to the side of the palace. The closer I go, the more familiar the sensation becomes. It’s energy. And I know exactly who it belongs to. A figure stands in the shadow of her balcony, cloaked in a mixture of grief, anxiety, and fatigue. I land on her balustrade, but she doesn’t startle when she sees me.
Em turns toward me with a sad smile. “Is that you, Franco?”
With a shudder, I shift out of my raven form and into my seelie body. Leaning against the balustrade, I wink. “Hey there. Why are you still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep. You?”
“I’m partial to being nocturnal. Although, I must say, our recent daytime activities have thrown off my sleep schedule.”
She gives a half-hearted chuckle but doesn’t meet my eyes. Her gaze remains unfocused as she faces the railing, resting her forearms upon it. She’s dressed in a silk floral-patterned robe over an ivory lace nightdress. Her elegant glamoured shoes peek out from beneath the hem.
