And makes horrible, perfect sense.
I’m so lost in my spiraling thoughts, I don’t realize someone else has entered the hidden solarium until they ease down beside me.
There’s a featherlight touch on my back. “Shh. Don’t be afraid. I want to help.”
I flinch and lash out, wild and wounded like the foxes we find in the traps dotting our fields. “Don’t touch me!”
The stranger holds up their hands, and as my gaze travels upward, I’m shocked to find the face of my maid looking down at me.
“What areyoudoing here?” I demand.
Her expression is almost as fearful as mine, but she tucks a strand of golden hair behind her ear and attempts to smile. “I’m here to help.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “You expect me to believe that? Aftereverything? Why are you really here?”
She frowns but doesn’t back down. “I came because I heard what happened. My friend services Councilor Von Nevus’s chambers, and he overheard the, um, commotion when he came to deliver fresh linens. He saw you flee the room.” My maid shudders and weaves her skinny arms around herself. “Did Von Nevus hurt you?”
I shake my head and look away from her pitying gaze.
“I’m glad of that, but you shouldn’t have been in his rooms at all. Von Nevus is a disgusting pig. I should have warned you about him.”
“That would have required you to occupy the same room as me for more than five seconds,” I snip.
“I know.” The girl lets out a weary breath, and her entire body sags. I expect this to fill me with vindication, but annoyingly, her guilt doesn’t make me feel better.
“It isn’t your job to look out for me,” I mumble. “I wouldn’t have listened anyway.”
Not with Rowenna encouraging me to seek out Von Nevus.
I still can’t believe she’d lead me to that pig. Maybe he’s changed. Or I somehow misunderstood her instructions.
“Has Von Nevus hurtyou?” I ask my maid, my voice so low, it’s almost a whisper. “I’m not trying to pry. You just said you should have warned me; does that mean—”
My maid cuts me off with a decisive shake of her head. “I was lucky. Others warned me to keep my distance when I came to work in the palace.”
“Good.” I busy my hands with the letter opener I’m still clutching, hoping the girl will scamper off like she has before. But now that I want her to go, she continues sitting there, watching me with her large blue eyes. And I don’t know if it’s residual stress from my encounter with Von Nevus, or if the discrepancies about Rowenna’s time here are slowly driving me mad, but the knots in my stomach cinch tighter and tighter until I suddenly blur,“I-I also want to apologize for whateverRo put you through. I don’t know what to believe, and I don’t want to make excuses for her—I know an apology from me isn’t the same—but she must have been so scared, so desperate. The sister I know would never have…”
My voice trails off. Because, the truth is, I don’t know whatthisversion of Rowenna might have done.
My sister’s stricken face fills my mind, as if summoned by my betrayal.Is that truly how you feel?she asks, but her voice is soft and oddly far away. Far enough, I don’t feel compelled to answer right away.
My maid clears her throat, not trying to hide the fact that she’s watching me.
I laugh because what else is there to do? “You think I’m out of my mind, don’t you?”
She shakes her head, and her eyes soften. “You’re really nothing like her, are you?”
I don’t have to ask who she means, and under any other circumstance, this would be the worst sort of insult. To be nothing like my sister is to be everything witless, spineless, and weak. But after all the lies and inconsistencies, and my visit with Garitt Von Nevus, I can’t deny this declaration fills me with the smallest bit of relief. Which brings yet another wave of guilt crashing down on my head.
“I’m Delphine, by the way,” my maid offers.
“Indira,” I say, though I’m certain she knows this.
Delphine leans back on her hands and stares out the window, watching the swooping birds and the skiffs of white snow billowing off the peaks. “I have a sister too,” she says. “So I know how confusing and infuriating they can be. But I also know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Cloudia, so I understand why you feel the need to defend Rowenna—and why you’re so determined to figure out what happened to her.”
This unexpected acknowledgment, this sliver of genuine understanding, makes tears spring to my eyes. Which makes me feel even more ridiculous and pathetic. A testament to how lonely and desperateI am. Rowenna is probably rolling over in her grave.
I clear my throat and try to discreetly wipe my tears on my sleeve. “Does Cloudia work in the palace too? Is she older or younger than you?”
