She hiccups. “I have been cruel to you.”
I turn in the chair, facing her. “Mistress—”
“No, listen to me. Listen to me, please,” she cries, clutching my hand. “I have been cruel and callous. I have been like my mother to you. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I want to be better—I just don’t know where to start. I don’t know what to do. All I know is that I am angry and tired and this is the true rot in me. This is my rot: that I am my mother’s daughter.”
I could say she’s been nothing but kind, but we both know it’s a lie. I could tell her it never mattered, but it did. I feel everything: layer upon layer of conflicting thoughts; the storm has swept us both away.
“Kassandra,” I say, and her given name from my lips shocks us both. We stare at each other, and I wait for her to punish me. Instead, she just watches with widening eyes. I clear my throat. “If cruelty is learned, then it can be unlearned, too. I don’t believe Dominik wants to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”
She looks away, wiping her face. “What if it’s too late?”
I think of Maxian, giving up on protecting faeries. But the king is not female; there are certain pains he will never understand. Kassandra is…complicated. Complicated, but perhaps different.
“As long as you breathe, it is never too late to become better,” I try.
Grief is what I felt that day lined up in Kassandra’s chambers.
Grief is what she recognized in herself.
She looks at me. “We should get to bed.”
I rise, folding the fur blanket and resting it on her bed as she scrubs her face with a cloth. We move around each other in silence for several moments, not saying goodbye as I leave.
Later, in the loneliness of my cot, I brave that storm of emotions once more, picking out her pain, so raw and visceral, and tucking it under my ribs and beside my own. In the dark, the two hurts look the same.
Chapter Twenty-eight
My genius won’t move, exhausted.My shift started a few moments ago, but I still hover outside my Illusion room. Panic climbs my throat. With the uniqueness of my situation, no one in the Mouth has approached me about getting a new room, and truthfully I haven’t wanted to ask, nervous at the potential rejection. Now I wish I had. The Reign ring warms with magic, then—nothing.
Lila insisted on helping me lace when I rejoined Reign service halfway through last week. She was worried about my shoulder. I didn’t protest because—well, as I worked that third week in Reign, scrubbing, cleaning, clearing, serving, I became worried about my genius. Stunned from the clash in the training halls with the king, it only twitched when called upon.
“Shit.” Ten minutes late, I pace the hall, trying to coax my genius to no avail. It has never taken this long for my magic to return to me after an illness or injury. Then again, I’ve never battled a king in magic before, either. Is this the start of Moldhood? The thought churns my stomach.
Footsteps freeze behind me, and I whirl to see Benji, his face pale.
Before I can open my mouth, he blurts: “Why are you here?”
“I still sleep in Illusion.”
His eyes dart to my door. “I know this is your room. I meant, why aren’t you gone yet for the night?”
“Well, I…” I pause. “Is everything okay? I’ve never seen you up here before.”
The boy shrugs, looking at my door again. “I don’t know.”
“Okay. Do you want me to help you find Glenn?”
“Why are you so nosy?” he shouts.
“I’m sorry,” I say, softer now. I step forward, and Benji doesn’t react. He lets me draw closer, blinking, I see now, angry tears away. “It’s okay, Bee.”
He groans, covering his face, turning away. He whines something into his hands.
“What was that?” I ask, crouching so we’re the same height but not daring to touch him. I’m already so late for this shift, so very much in the king’s disgraces. It can’t get much worse than this. Who knows, maybe he’s fed up with my service and will release me back to Kassandra.
Benji mumbles into his hands again. “I come up here every day and sit outside your room and pretend I’m telling you about the horses.”
My chest shatters, throat tightening. “I’d love to hear about the horses. If you want to tell the real me.”
