A sneer tugged at her soft lips as she recalled the same, or any number of similar incidents. “I learned later, in my teens, that he did much worse than just using touch magic. He tortured her, Isahn. He entered her mind with his vision magic and—” her voice cracked. Pausing for a moment, George steadied her breathing.
“You don’t have to tell me, it’s all right,” he spoke softly as he continued to rub slow circles on her lower back, leaning in so close he could smell the patchouli and rose that scented her skin.
“I want to.” Though extra husky with emotion, her tone was resolute. “Is that okay?”
He nodded.
“He showed herme. Images of me being tortured, bleeding and dead.”
“Gods.”
“She always told me, so, so many times, that when—not if, but when—she died, it wasn’t my fault. I needed to remember it was not my fault, and I needed to keep my convictions close, even ifhetried to lay blame on me. Sheknew... she knew he was going to do it.” George’s eyes welled with unshed tears. When she blinked, one escaped to trickle down her cheek.
He pushed a small thread of water out, urged her tear to join up with his magic, and drew it away.
George flashed him the most pitiful, quivering smile he’d ever seen, and it took everything in him not to scoop her into his lap and wrap her in a hug.
“One evening,cenadevolved into a terrible fight. Really, my father raged at us while we sat there, placid as can be. He wanted to send me to stay with Viceroy and Domina De Palma for the winter, and Mamma refused. She knew the viceroy well enough to recognize that hiswifewas not the one looking for a companion.”
Isahn scowled. That was the same lecherous man who’d gone after Wynnie as a young girl.
“You don’t refuse the king though...” George’s voice grew distant as she focused on the wall-hanging over the hidden passage. “He dismissed me after dinner and kept screaming at Mamma. I raced here.” She dipped her chin, tilting her head at the wall. “I ran into there, and I made it back to thetricliniumas their fight reached its crescendo. Mamma was on the floor, screaming nonsensically. Her voice was so hoarse, you could hardly hear a thing she was saying, but you could see it on her face. She was screaming.” She paused for a breath.
“Then he laughed. He started laughing as Mamma screamed and screamed. She said my name. Begged him to stop. I think he was showing me to her. I don’t know. Her hands came up off the floor and— Oh, Isahn, it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t Mamma anymore, not really, not after everything he put her through. She grabbed at her face, scratching, begging him to stop. He laughed and laughed, and I thought it was done. I thought it was done.” George panted raggedly as she recalled the horrific memory.
“But she wasn’t done. She brought her hands to her face—and her eyes—and the blood. There was blood everywhere. Everywhere. She was screaming. So loud. She found her voice again. And he laughed. He laughed the whole time.”
“My gods, George.” His erratic breathing matched her own. “You don’t have to tell me this, not if you want to stop.”
“I don’t. I want to keep going.”
He ran his fingers up and down her spine, reassured by the recurring bumps and dips.
Her eyes glazed over again as she continued, “She fainted, slumped onto the floor. And my father, he—he used a knife. Aknife, Isahn, not his magic. He ‘put her out of her misery.’ That’s what he told me the next day.” George’s arms fell limply at hersides. “I raced back. Hildy was here. She’d heard my parents’ fighting and came to check on me. She shielded the sounds from myinsulae,and I screamed. I screamed myself hoarse, not caring if anyone could hear.” She stared at Isahn, chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing. “My voice never went back to the way it was before. Neither did I.”
With his hands balled into fists, the one at his side and the one on George’s back, tension thrummed through him.
“Thatmonster,” Isahn spat, the venom in his voice deadly and bitter. George never deserved an ounce of the horrors she’d endured in her twenty-odd years. “I’m going to fuckingkill him.” His voice was lethal as he moved to stand from the sofa.
George flinched, pulling her arms close to her chest.
An immediate guilt flooded Isahn, and he slumped into his seat. He’d scared her. He was being no better than her dad.Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—” Flexing his hands, he released tension. She didn’t need more rage, more anger in her life. George deserved safety and peace.
In through his nose, out through his mouth,Isahn took several deep, circular breaths, a technique his friend Kas had shared. The method had merit, settling his pulse as he went on. Once sufficiently calm, he chanced a glance at George to find she was studying him intently.
“George, I’m so sorry about your mother.”
“Thank you. It’s been a long time now. It’s easier to talk about. I wanted you to know because it felt right to share.” She swallowed. “I didn’t tell you so you can pity me. I told you so you have even more reason to want my father dead.”
“I don’t need any more reasons, not after seeing the way he lost his temper at you and snapped. Not after seeing the way hetouchedyou.”
George’s lips dragged into a sad smile. “He’s a monster. Sometimes, I’m afraid he’s ruined me. That he’s ruined my ability to have arealrelationship. It’s difficult to trust.” They sat in silence for a moment before she asked, “Have you ever snapped like that, hurt anyone?”
“No. Well, maybe when I was a teen and coming into my manhood, but never like him—not even close. Feeling your emotions without allowing them to control you is part of growing and growing up.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “What of sex?”
