“Kassandra!” I scream.
Her eyes fly open. She surges forward over the mattress, and I catch her, her body slamming us onto the ground. She shivers on top of me, gasping, then scrambles off and bares her canines.
I don’t move, my heart seizing. Her pupils dilate, her teeth glinting. She is a predator once more. Then recognition dawns, and her face loses its tension.
“Leave,” she seethes, rubbing her thin, bruised arms.
“My lady—”
“Get out!” Her voice cracks.
“Yes, my lady.”
I brush off my skirts, climb to my feet, and exit to the parlor.
A disheveled faerie catches my eye.
I jump at the reflection in the glass hung on the wall. My chestnut hair tangles in matted waves past my shoulders, brown eyes hollow. A tight set to my jaw. That isn’t all.
It’s as if someone dipped a paintbrush into a storm cloud and smudged purple and black across my collarbone. The bruises streak under the simple scoop of my plain cotton dress. If I were to lift the garment up, I know what I would find underneath; the aching in my body tells me. This was only from a few invisible slaps. Nothing compared to—
The mattress creaks with her weight once more, the sound of broken sobs filling the space.
This will not do. None of this will do.
Just because I’m blood sworn to keep these secrets in doesn’t mean I can’t act out.
It is time to make a plan.
—
I knock onBriar’s door. After a few moments, my superior answers in a cotton nightdress, dark hair in a loose bun. I hold up a bag of stale bread rolls offered to the faeries this morning. Sometimes we get scraps right before they fully turn to supplement the gruel they give us. Sometimes I’d rather have just the pasty porridge. Before I left the kitchens, I warmed the rock-hard bread with butter.
“Here.”
She rubs her face. “What time is it?”
“Late morning.”
“So we have a day until we need to start prepping her for the coronation. Her arms should only need a few more hours to fully mend.”
I grimace. “How often does this happen?”
Briar steps back, opening her door for me to enter. Inside looks exactly like my new room, skinny but with a small window and cot. As we settle on the mattress, I take out a roll and hand it to her.
She sniffs. “How’d you convince the cooks to part with fae butter?”
“Told them a guest of Kassandra has a dog.”
She smirks, biting into the roll. I tear at mine with my teeth, chewing. After a few moments, Briar says, “There were several years when I would intervene and he would break my arms, too.”
Cringing, I say, “I am sorry.”
She shrugs. “As faeries heal slower than fae, I couldn’t be there to tend to her, and Dominik refused to allow any day servant in.She was left alone, and I was left broken for weeks. Then I spent some time begging the guards for help, but forgot whose orders they must follow in the House. We can only speak of it now because we are both blood sworn.”
My stomach tightens. “This is a nightmare.”
“My point is—redirect. I’ve found this is the best way to reduce harm overall.”
