“How loyal are you?”
“To you?” She scoffs.
“To your cause.”
“Well, I want things to change.”
“What if I told you that you didn’t have to do anything to make things change because change is coming whether we want it or not?”
She squints at me. “Is that what you’re telling me? The god is dying and everything is about to change?”
“Yep. That’s what I’m telling you. And no one wins, Jasina. The game is over.” I stand up. “And now, so is this meeting.”
The footman has rushed over and is hurriedly pulling out Jasina’s chair so she has to stand as well. She does her curtsey and then, a moment later, she’s gone and the next girl is sitting down across from me.
CHAPTER THIRTY
After Finn Scott’s abrupt dismissal, I turn towards the exit where Donal Oslin is waiting to escort me back to the dorm. There are Matrons posted along the passageways to keep an eye on us, but Donal is one of those creepy, ass-kissing boys who understands how to avoid the gaze of chaperones while simultaneously making them think he’s trustworthy.
So I’m on edge.
It occurs to me now, after that weird confrontation from Auntie, that he may have been partnered up with me on purpose.
I nearly scoff as I approach him.Of course he was, Jasina.The Matrons are in charge—they make all the decisions about the Little Sisters and these decisions, at least for this particular Extraction Choosing, are considered carefully. They’re not made lightly.
It’s obvious now, but up until a few minutes ago it never even entered my mind that the people I had trusted the most might not trust me back.
Huh. Ironic. Especially since I just spilled some pretty big secrets to Finn Scott. So I suppose their suspicions had cause.
Donal offers me his arm and I dutifully hook my hand around it the way I’m supposed to with an escort. We start walking, turning corners and traveling along one of the many, many, many twisted passageways inside the Maiden Tower.
He remains quiet, nodding his head at every Matron standing guard at each hallway intersection. The thing about Donal that tends to win people over, aside from his brown-nosing, of course, is his good looks. He’s tall, and broad, and handsome. Not only that, he knows how to be charming. I mean, he’s never been charming withme, but he’s been trained up as the legacy for the Tower District, so proper etiquette has been ingrained into him since birth. His manners are impeccable, there’s no denying it. But he’s so ugly on the inside.
“What do you say, Jasina? Should we steal away for a little quickie before I take you back to the dorm?”
And right there is the perfect example of this ugliness. We are not familiar in this way. He has no right to say this to me. I look up at him, disgusted. “Keep dreaming. The Matrons are watching, you idiot.”
“They are. Until they’re not.”
And this is when I realize that theyaren’tactually watching. In fact, there are no Matrons at all along this passageway.
The next thing I know he’s pushing me into a dark nook. I make to scream, but his hand is firmly across my mouth. It’s so big, and he’s pressing so hard, a panic floods through me. Not because of his reference to a ‘quickie’ and what his immediate plans might be—though I’m pretty sure he is intending on having his way with me—but because I can’t draw in a breath.
I’ve been paired up with this jerk for nearly five years now and a girl doesn’t have to be a genius to see this moment coming. I’m ready because I’ve practiced for it, so on instincts alone myknee comes up and gets him in the balls so hard, he immediately doubles over, coughing and sputtering.
By the time I’m back in the main corridor, he’s retching his guts out behind me.
I turn the corner, find a Matron—who is very surprised that I am alone—and before she can ask the obvious question, I provide an answer. “He’s getting sick in that nook back there. You might want to take him to the health center.”
There’s a commotion of Matrons after that. All the ones along this corridor go rushing past me to render aid while I just continue my walk back to the dorm in peace.
What a dick. Of course it pisses me off that he pulled this stunt, but I’m angrier about being paired up with him in the first place. If every girl knows that Donal Oslin is this way, how is it possible that every Matron doesn’t?
They do. They just don’t care.
And that’s the nicest conclusion to come to. Because it could be that they know and theydocare. In other words, they’ve placed Donal with me on purpose, knowing full well that this would happen.
It’s this belief that I grab onto for two reasons. The first is to ease my guilt about what I just told Finn Scott. I am not a traitor. I am loyal. I, as much as anyone, want this evil god in the tower gone. I want this barbaric ritual of Extraction to be over. Spilling all those secrets wasn’t in the plan. I didn’t actually have a plan—not after last night, at least. But Finn revealed a part of himself to me by mistake. He doesn’t want this either. Why should we be enemies when we can be allies?
