“You will return home, but not until you’ve fulfilled your purpose here.” He didn’t even attempt to sound apologetic.
Something within me snapped. Acidic words poured out, and I wouldn’t stop them. “In the meantime, let me guess. I cannot leave this room. I cannot roam the streets. I cannot go out and speak to people with my eyes showing. And, that’s right, I need to do everything you tell me to do because I don’t have any say. I’m a captive because of eyes that aren’t even my own, and you’re the overbearing captor who feigns kindness by giving me beautiful rooms and nice conversation as if it makesanyof this okay. You’ve stolen me from my life. You claim to have a good reason. But no reason can justify what you’ve done.”
A cool mask of indifference fell over Harthon’s chiseled features. He didn’t advance, didn’t even twitch, but I had the vague sense of being crowded. Cornered.
In a carefully controlled voice, he said, “I understand that you’re used to being a speck. Living only to survive, never leaving home, and contributing nothing to the world but the air you exhale. But this is bigger than you, and I hope you’ll see that soon. Until then, I’m glad to know you already understand how things work here.” He gave me his annoyingly broad back and pulled the door open. “Stefano is outside your door. Tell him if you need anything.”
The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, and I lunged for acomb on the dresser and threw it at the door with all my strength. It cracked in two and fell unceremoniously to the floor.
So I did it again with a second comb.
Then a third.
And then there were no more combs, so I grabbed a hand mirror and watched it shatter into a thousand little pieces as it hit the wood.
It did nothing to quell the anger boiling inside of me.
* * *
The anger turned out to be rather beneficial. It fueled some much-needed focus.
Harthon didn’t appear again for the rest of the day. A few hours after he departed, Stefano, my gangly guard who was hardly old enough to be a man, had opened my door to allow two chambermaids into the room. The older one, with graying hair and wrinkled lips from a perpetual frown, introduced herself as Felda. The younger one, who appeared to be fifteen or so, said her name was Frannie in a sheepish voice. She avoided my gaze at all costs as they delivered a meal, drew a bath, and promptly left.
“If you need anything, Lady Etarla, don’t hesitate to tell me,” Stefano said as the women departed. With his rounded red cheeks, blue eyes, and shaggy brown hair, he was practically a boy.
Harthon had left aboyto guard me.
I wasn’t complaining.
I cocked a brow. “LadyEtarla? My name is Etarla. That’s all,” I said, my annoyance clear.
His cheeks flushed. “Yes, La—Etarla.”
“Are you going to be out there all night?”
“Until someone relieves me, I will be here.”
“Is Harthon coming to talk to me tonight?”
That mop of hair swished back and forth as he shook his head. “I wasn’t told he was.”
My lips curled. “Well, Stefano, feel free to tell Harthon that I’m not going to eat or drink anything until he comes and speaks to me as he promised.”
The sooner I fully understood my situation, the easier it would be to plan a successful escape. If my eyes were of life-changing importance to Koerlyn and Harthon, I wouldn’t be able to stay in my village. I’d have to move somewhere remote with Merelda, perhaps toward the Domus further into Second Territory. But if my eyes only presented a slight advantage to their ends, they would forget about me soon enough.
While Harthon had vowed to enlighten me on the truth, I could only imagine how long his other, more pressing priorities could take. Considering how he seemed to value my health, threatening my own well-being would encourage him to speed up the process.
Besides, I’d gone enough nights with hardly any food in my belly to know I would be fine.
Stefano’s lips parted. “I-I…why wouldn’t you eat? Or at least drink?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just feel free to mention it if you see him.”
“I would advise agai—”
“I’d like to bathe now before the water gets cold,” I interrupted. Stefano’s mouth snapped shut. “If you don’t mind, some privacy?”
He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then he stepped back and closed the door.
