This time it wasn’t Duvessa who held her captive in all but name. This time the person was Maxen Fury. His web. Protection, as he would call it, by tightening the ship. The man who’d looked at her as if she were both the problem and the answer. The man who hadn’t said a word when it mattered most. The man who—
Urgh.
Stop it, Calliope!
So he hadn’t said anything. They were from different worlds. She couldn’t expect anything from him. She couldn’t place any hope there. Her heart had been pummeled by expectations too many times before. She couldn’t allow her wits to scatter like this. This wasn’t heartbreak. Maxen hadn’t broken her heart. This was merely disappointment. Sharp, yes. Searing, somewhat. And entirely her own fault.
She’d let herself imagine a life here.
Allowed herself to believe she could carve out a wedge of light beneath the shadow of a beast.
“You fool,” she whispered. She didn’t know if she meant him or herself. On the bright side of things, at least she had a place to stay for the night. She could worry about the rest tomorrow. Mr. Peregrine had been kind.Tookind. He had even settled her account. Of course, she would have taken care of her account herself, but her pistol hadbeen right atop her coin purse!
How embarrassing.
But what had he said before? No one would question her presence. Which, she belatedly realized, was precisely why she didn’t fully trust his promise. Years in Duvessa’s net had taught her that kindness always came with a cost. And if caught in such a trap again, she feared she’d not be able to bear the cost.
She rose and stepped up to the window, pushing the sash open despite the frigid breeze. Her fingers tightened on the frame, knuckles white. Gripping the frame might very well be the only thing keeping her from leaping right out.
And what? Run back to him?
Heh. A fool she could be called no longer. There wasn’t a word that existed yet for her!
Calliope spotted a cat darting from below a tree and vanishing into the shadows.
Lucky creature.
She wished she could move freely without fearing what waited in the dark. Of course, she didn’t want to vanish. At least not into the shadows. She just didn’t want to be found.
Not by Duvessa, anyway.
Orhim.
Had he found his brother yet? All sorts of suspicions must be gathering in his head. Spy sorts of suspicions. A shiver raced through her, though whether the slight chill came from the wind or the memory of Maxen Fury’s voice growling her name, she couldn’t say.
He hadn’t growled.
Hah. Tell her memory that! Every part of her still burned with the sound. That roughness. The promise of chaos and ruin. The hope she hadn’t wanted but had somehow gathered to herself anyway.
Stars, she was a fool.
Calliope inhaled a deep, fortifying breath. Just like she’d had to do the first few nights after escaping the old house. She’d have to findanother opportunity to send Mr. Fitz a letter. Perhaps Wales would be the best option for now?
Maybe.
“I have not loved the world, nor the world me,” she whispered aloud, suddenly recalling a passage from Byron’sChilde Harold’s Pilgrimage. She had never taken a liking to reading, but sometimes a book helped her sleep. This one sentence, however, had stayed with her from the moment she’d read the words.
But she had no need for the whole world. Just a small piece of earth she could tend. One she could love. Love well. And one that might, in time, love her in return.
She sank back onto the bed and drew the coverlet over her, the thought of changing out of her breeches into something more comfortable flickering briefly before exhaustion smothered the idea. Unfortunately, the blanket was far too thin to serve as a shield. Prince bounded up and collapsed against her, his canine sigh shuddering through the mattress.
“Just one night,” she murmured, stroking his soft ears. “One night to catch our breaths.” Just a little longer.
But the quiet didn’t soothe this time.
She closed her eyes anyway.
*
