Rosier crosses his arms. “Udtuk, when I command, you’ll go for the pale blonde one. Start with her head and work your way down.”
I know the creature won’t hurt me, but the command makes the blood drain from my face.
The knife clatters to the ground, and Nim scurries away, first on all fours before eventually getting to her feet. I take a slow, deep breath, appreciating the simple freedom of breathing without fear. Though my relative freedom is short-lived before Rosier is once again on top of me.
He pulls me from the floor, my feet dangling as he holds me to his chest. “Minnie–”
“You’re being clingy,” I tell him.
Before I can push him away or tease him he explains. “I’m only protecting what’s mine.”
I roll my eyes, though he can’t see. “Clingy.”
As my eyes roll about, I spot the abandoned knife. I kick my feet, hoping that will get him to set me down. He complies, though he still holds my waist. I bend down and pick up the knife, gazing at my warped reflection in the blade. Arthur le Fay won’t give me what I want, but it’s not entirely his fault. I’ve been denying myself, trying to outsource my desires to Rosier, lying to myself about what it is I truly want. Revenge against Arthur le Fay seems impossible.
So he’s no longer my target.
Rosier brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Minnie?”
My hand flexes, holding the hilt of the blade tighter. “I’m going to kill that bitch who called my Mom a whore.”
“By yourself? I could have Udtuk do it.”
I look past him at Udtuk, whose glassy eyes and aimless smile make my blood run cold. Yet, I can’t turn away from him, looking like a mascot costume left out in the elements and hanging up to dry. He doesn’t even breathe.
I close my eyes to break the trance and shake my head. “What happened to what is rightfully mine?” His face softens, and I add, “It has to be me. There’s no point in having it be anyone else.” I pull myself from Rosier and start marching, hunting once again for the le Fays.
The clicking of Udtuk’s claws against the marble echoes behind me, and Rosier appears at my side. “You know I would–”
“Rosie. Let me do this, please.”
He snorts. “Still so civil, even when you’re on a murderous rampage.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say. I could tell you to fuck right off, and you’d still follow me around like…” I look over my shoulder. “Like Udtuk there.”
He hums. “It seems even without a contract, you’ve bewitched me. I am your loyal servant, Minerva.”
“Would have been nice to know that a week ago.”
We’re getting closer to the gala itself, the sound of idle chatter like accompaniment. We find the le Fays all in a circle, hissing at each other, clearly trying to form a plan. Thankfully, Guine spots me, and jumps back, quite literally clutching her pearls as she looks past me.
“What isthat?” she asks in horror.
Arthur le Fay speaks up. “Still clambering for an apology, I see, Minerva. Well, I’m so sor–”
“That offer has been rescinded.” I hold the sharp side of the knife between my thumb and forefinger, showing it off as if it’s on display. “Actually, I’m not even interested in speaking with you at all, Arthur.”
Guine is still looking at the beast behind me.
“A life for a life seems fair,” I say acutely.
Guine blinks, then snaps her attention back to me.
Junior steps between us. “Minerva, don’t do this.”
“Oh, so now you want peace? Like your brother?”
“My Mother is not–”
