Because I never asked.
Not about Elodie, her family, or anything beyond my sister and my agenda.
I’m just as selfish and self-absorbed as the courtiers.
Shame burns my cheeks as I gaze across the table at Elodie, who’s always there to offer help, advice, and friendship, even though I haven’t reciprocated.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t know—that I didn’t ask,” I say in a rush. Elodie tries to wave off my apology, but I don’t let her. “If you ever need help tending to your mother, I’m more than willing to lend a hand. I know a lot about herbal remedies.”
Elodie laughs to disguise a sniffle. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the princess. You haven’t time for such things. My mother is in good hands, besides. The king’s personal healers have been caring for her round the clock. They said I should be able to visit her soon and assured me she’ll be back in the king’s council chambers in no time.”
“We’re all praying for her swift recovery,” a deep voice cuts in behind me, and my entire body stiffens. It feels like ice water is pouring over my head—so shockingly cold, I can’t move as Garitt Von Nevus saunters into view and leans casually against our table.
Thirty
“Forgive the intrusion,” Von Nevus says to Elodie, “but I overheard your conversation and had to offer my support. The entire council is beside ourselves with worry for your mother.”
His tone is gentle, and his hands are clasped fervently at his chest, but the glint in his eyes is far from sympathetic. He reminds me of a grinning jackal, and I want to climb up on my chair and shout his crimes for all to hear. So everyone knows how he cornered me. What he tried totakefrom me. What hehastaken from other girls.
I have no doubt he’s leading the charge against Elodie’s mother, but when I try to voice this accusation, my jaw won’t move. It’s shut tighter than a rusted padlock. I gaze desperately across the salon, praying someone will see my panic and intervene, but Elodie is cornered with me, and none of the other Vanzadorian nobles would notice my discomfort, let alone accuse a high-ranking councilor like Von Nevus of anything untoward. Even if they suspected he was harassing me, a good portion of them would probably applaud him for seizing the opportunity and taking what he wants.
“I see I’ve rendered you speechless,” he chuckles when neither Elodie nor I reply. “I tend to have that effect on people.”
Only because your victims are too traumatized to speak!I want to bellow, but all that comes out is a gasping wheeze.
Elodie narrows her eyes at Von Nevus. “Thank you for your prayers, Councilor, but you should know it’s impolite to eavesdrop,” she says sharply.
He gallantly removes his tasseled cap. “It’s also criminal for two ladies, as lovely as yourselves, to be sitting alone with your grief. Allow me to lighten your spirits. Shall we take a turn about the room, Miss Indira? I’ve been hoping to continue our previous conversation.”
Von Nevus offers me his hand, and all I can see, smell, and eventasteis the blood I drew with the letter opener. That trail of red, snaking down his wrist, and his disgusting tongue, lapping it up.
Elodie flashes me an insistent look, compelling me to dismiss him, but the harder I try, the more the words get lodged behind a wall ofpanic, sealing off my throat.
With a concerned frown, Elodie addresses Von Nevus herself. “I’m afraid we must pass on your kind offer. We’re engaged in an importantprivateconversation.”
Von Nevus doesn’t even blink at her dismissal. He keeps his attention fixed on me. “Let the princess speak for herself. What doyousay, Little Ro?”
No!
I scream it. Shout it. So loud, my throat feels raw and ripped open.
But still, I don’t make a sound.
I’m a prisoner in my own body.
Taking my silence for assent, Von Nevus reaches for my hand.
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the brush of his clammy fingers. But another hand comes down on the back of my chair and drags me out of Von Nevus’s reach.
“I’m afraid I must whisk my wife away,” says a voice that sounds like Alaric’s. But it can’t be. He refused to come. “I’ve shared her longenough,” the voice continues, and a gloved hand adorned with fine white embroidery takes me by the elbow and helps me to my feet.
I’m so panicked and surprised, my wobbly legs give way, but surprisingly, I don’t hit the ground. The scents of leather and cardamom invade my nose as muscular arms encircle me.
“I’ve got you,” the voice that can’t be Alaric’s whispers. But when I glance up, he’s there, glaring at Von Nevus with his dangerous, beautiful eyes
I’m hallucinating. In the throes of a panic attack. It’s the only explanation.
“Miss Tomasko.” Alaric nods politely at Elodie, who’s glancing between my husband and me with giddy delight. Then he ushers me away, across the salon, and I’m so stunned, I can do nothing but trip along as he drags me past Queen Tessa and dozens of courtiers.
