“Arionna is fucking someone.”
I cough to dislodge the gasp that gets stuck in my throat. “Neris!”
“What?” Her smile is cherubic, false innocence shining in her emerald eyes.
I set the book down and select my thinnest paintbrush, looking closely at the bristles to check for splits. It seems intact. “Perhaps a different word choice?” I dip my paintbrush into the green paint. “Making love? Lying with? Doing the horizontal dance?”
She guffaws just as I’m about to begin painting foliage on the border of the leather book cover. “We don’t know the extent of the relationship to infer something as meaningful asmaking love. And I’velainwith you plenty of times.”
“Ner—”
“—in your bed! Don’t be crass.”
I roll my eyes.
“Andhorizontal dance? Winnie, please.” She winks at me, then pauses to focus on the engraving. “Fine. Arionna has beenbeddingsomeone. Since shortly before your wedding.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I was covering for one of the servants and discovered your sister’s stash of fertility suppressant tea while I was cleaning.” She shrugs.
“Interesting. I’m sure it’s some affluent nobleperson. But imagine if it’s a lowborn. Or worse, aGrounder.”
Neris laughs. “Realms, I’d love to see that.”
We laugh and come up with even more farfetched scenarios—per my family’s beliefs—before silence settles in the room again for a while.
As I paint tiny leaves around the book, it brings a sort of stillness within me, temporarily making me forget about everything else. When there are five books drying in a line on the workstation, I step away to stretch my stiff back and fingers. It feels good to get lost in such a creative outlet. I dread returning to the Pendrys.
“Winnie, are you happy?” Neris asks.
I don’t want to lie to her, so I simply keep my mouth shut and step up to my workstation again. “It’s mealtime.” I finish putting my jars of paint into a wooden chest. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
“Winnie …” She calls after me, but I keep walking, knowing that she still has a lot to put away before she can follow. It’ll at least give me the chance to pretend that I am, indeed, happy.
As I step into my childhood home the next morning, Arionna rushes down the steps with a cape draped over her arm and a frazzled look on her face. She spots me and reels back, pressing a hand over her heart before smoothing her hands over her ebony coils.
“Gwyn,” she says breathlessly. “You’re early.” A headpiece comprised of three strands of silver and gold beads wraps around her head—her tight curls are otherwise loose. Light kohl lines her lashes today, making them look even longer and thicker than usual.
“I’m … on time.” My eyes dart to the clock on the wall and back to her.
She continues walking toward me, now swinging her cloak over her wine-colored gown and fastening it with a golden broach. There’s an odd look in her eyes, an awkward smile on her lips that doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of her face.
“Where areyouoff to so early?” I ask.
Her plump lips tug down. “Sterling’s manor. His brother is selling the estate, but he wants me to help him sort through some of Sterling’s possessions. You know, since I spent more time with him than anyone else in his final days. He wants to ensure his more prized items be handled with sensitivity.”
It’s not often Arionna speaks of her late husband. I try to keep the surprise from my face and out of my voice. “That sounds very considerate. It’s kind of you to agree. Will you be alright going there by yourself?”
Again, that odd smile. “Hamish is coming along.”
The footman is hardly company. Aside from driving the carriage, I’m not sure what support he can offer Arionna. Especially when it comes to this already emotionally stunted family of mine. “What about Mother?” I ask.
Arionna laughs—and rightfully so—as she steps past me. She pats me on the shoulder as if I’m Erleya’s most naive child, then sweeps out of the house without another word.
Bizarre. But when is Arionna anything but? Even when we were children, she was always up tosomething,always in a hurry, always secretive. Rolling my shoulders to dissolve the tension from simply being in my sister’s presence, I make my way to the book bindery.
To the last haven I have in this miserable life.
