Dry.
A little cruel. “I would hardly say it was out of generosity. We’re doing this for revenge as much as you are.”
“Maybe,” she says gently. “But someone had to take the first step. And I’m grateful you did.”
I shift uncomfortably, because she has no clue how on the nose that observation is.
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I look away, running my thumb along the edge of my mug.
She watches me for a moment, as if weighing something unspoken, then takes a sip of her hot cocoa and rests her cheek against her palm, her lips curving into a soft, thoughtful smile. “You know, when I married Sandro, everyone thought he would destroy me. That the Chiaroscuros would crush me—that I might be better off dead. Even my parents had their doubts.”
“Then why did they ever let you go through with it?” I ask, shock and horror lacing my tone.
It took all my powers of persuasion to convince my parents to let me go through with this.
And never did they doubt I couldn’t handle myself.
Even then, I’m certain my family would take me back in a heartbeat if I told them I was unhappy.
I can’t imagine a family letting their daughter marry someone they worried might hurt her.
Evi’s smile turns sad, her eyes dropping to her mug as she picks at a chip in the handle. “We needed the alliance to protect my brothers. They’re soldiers, you see, and my marriage to Sandro ensured them high enough positions with the Chiaroscuros to take them out of the direct line of fire.”
As if that were possible in our world.
But still, it bothers me that her parents would consider that a reasonable explanation for her sacrifice.
Evi seems to read my opinion in my expression, however, and she quickly waves it away.
“That’s not why I wanted to tell you about it, though. I’ve made peace with my parents and their decisions, and I would do anything for my brothers. But my point is, when I first married Sandro, I felt so scared and alone. I didn’t know anyone, felt so far from home. And then Anika—Miko’s wife—sat down with me, kind of like this, actually, just over a cup of coffee. She told me something that kept me going, and I hope knowing the truth of it might help you adjust too.”
I don’t want to bite.
I don’t want to engage.
But curiosity tugs anyway. “What did she say?”
“That the Chiaroscuro brothers might seem terrifying, but they’re softies underneath it all.”
I scoff. Loudly. “Sure. Maybe the other brothers. But Raf? I doubt there’s a compassionate bone in his body.”
Evi doesn’t look offended. If anything, she seems… surprised, and my gut clenches as I realize my bitterness toward him has made me reveal more than I should have. “You know him, then?” she asks, her question not accusing but laced with doubt.
“I…” Shoot. There’s no way to dig myself out of this hole without risking a very dangerous truth. “No, I suppose not. I’ve just heard as much… from a few of the girls who work in my family’s house.” It’s a flat-out lie, and it tastes sour on my tongue, but I don’t have a safer way to make my opinion sound warranted.
“Well, maybe they don’t know him as well as they think,” she says slowly, “because most people only see the front he puts on… but can I tell you a secret?” Evi leans forward, her voice dropping conspiratorially as she glances around as if to make sure no one’s watching, and it’s painfully reminiscent of the days I spent gossiping with Hannah and Kelly in the kitchen.
Leaning forward as my curiosity gets the better of me, I nod, a smile curving my lips at the sudden and unexpected sense of camaraderie.
“On the day Sandro and I got married, Sandro slipped away to the fighting pits while the reception was still going,” she says, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of rose.
Though she doesn’t say which fighting pits she’s talking about, I know she’s referring to the ones my family owns—because they’re the only ones in Chicago.
And I’m mildly surprised that Sandro would risk something so dangerous when my family had all but declared war on the Chiaroscuros.
“It was time for our grand send-off, but I couldn’t find Sandro anywhere—and if I failed to consummate our marriage on our wedding night… If people found out…”
It’s not lost on me that that’s exactly what happened for me and Raf last night, but I know what she means, and it reminds me that—as painful as it was to sleep in the same bed as Raf, it really was necessary.
