I leaned back on the bench, crossing my arms as I looked up at the stars. “What do you mean?”
“Is there anything to go back to?” She bit her lip. “In London?”
“Nothing but father’s wrath.”
“We are in danger, then.”
“No, Father isn’t bold enough to waltz into uncharted territory.” I pulled my cigarette holder from my pocket, only to find there were none left. “For now, we live in bliss,” I mumbled.
“For now,” she strained, her eyes landing on me, not in anger, but solemnly. When I didn’t return the look, her jaw twitched,and she crossed her arms, turning back to look out into the dark. “Damn it, Silas. Kin killing is no easy stain to brush out. Out of all the ways you could have lashed out, did it have to be something so gratuitous?”
“Would you rather me leave more heads to hunt when they come for her?” I finally looked her way, her cheeks bright red, angry with the insinuation.
“Why did you come back?” she snapped. I could see her jaw tensing and relaxing, like she was working out the tension emanating from her rage.
“I came for her.”
“No, the first time.”
The first time?
“Seven years,” she laughed, “you didn’t visit me for seven years, after so many routine reunions. You just up and left, gone, not even a letter, a telegram, nothing.” Her eyes were glassy, despite her blinking away the emotion, “My year without Alina was my loneliest. I hoped you would at least show up with a half-decent excuse.”
“I couldn’t bear it anymore.” I kept my answers steady.
“Oh! Right, let me guess. Father, the Nest, the pressure.” Her laugh was comical this time, steeped in sarcasm. “What? Is imagining any responsibility to your Nest—to your family—too much for you? Did you find what you were looking for out there? Your purpose? Do you really lament any sort of responsibility to anyone besides your appetite?”
“Phoebe . . .”
“No, I want to hear it! What, pray tell, called the oh-so-independent Silas Forbes back to civilization?”
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” I winced. Her words were always sharp, I knew that, but something about how she spoke to me was just critical.
“Let me guess, another thing you assume I don’t know.”
“Your engagement. I feared it was too late.”
“Pardon?” She laughed but didn’t continue after I showed no humor. “I amnotengaged.”
“Well,” I took a deep inhale. “That wasFather’sreason for returning home.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Why else would he request you return to the Nest so suddenly? I am not the only man in your life who was absent, dear sister.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Did you think you would be different from any of the others?”
“I’m his favorite; he said so,” she said, though not with the same confident edge.
“I was his favorite too,” I said softly, reaching out for her hand. “We all are until he wants something new.”
“That doesn’t make sense; you’re not married.”
“That is because I was born a son, Phoebe.”
“Are you really implying that Father sold our sisters for some sick game of power and estates?”
