“She spoke of you often, but she died several years ago. I remember it well. She was part of the rebellion trying to overthrow King Raquel. She wanted to leave Ebora and find you but died of malnutrition before she could.”
Bile burned at the back of my throat. “There might have been another Brielle,” I said, hating how my voice warbled. “Are you sure…”
“I’m sure,” she said kindly. “I knew all the rebellion members well. She loved you very much.”
Burning heat prickled behind my eyes, try as I might to blink it away. There had to be some mistake. My mother had been strong. She had been lively and kind and loving. She couldn’t have died. We were going to be a family again. I just had to find her and the others. They had been waiting for me.
“I’m so sorry,” Dahlia said, placing a hand on my shoulder, but I flinched away and took a step back.
The emotions raging in my chest were about to burst. I intended to thank her for telling me, but I couldn’t so much as open my mouth. If I did, I might cry or choke or pass out. So instead, I turned and fled.
“Wait!” Lochlan tore after me and grabbed my shoulder, but I yanked myself away and kept running as I’d never run before in my life. I didn’t want his embrace. I didn’t want him to see me vulnerable and breaking.
“Jillian, stop!” Lochlan’s voice faded until the only sound was of my pounding footsteps.
I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think. I ran out of the party, away from the castle, then through the streets of Avalon, darting down alley after alley, the darker the better. Ididn’t want to be anywhere near the castle. My mother probably died in a place just like that, and I wanted no part of it.
Each time my foot struck the ground, I took vicious satisfaction in urging myself on, going faster and faster until everything became a blur. If only I could run from the feelings threatening to consume me just as quickly.
I ran until I thought my heart might explode, then collapsed to the side of the road, gasping for air in short, frantic bursts. I didn’t want anything but solitude. No one could hurt me when I was alone. After all my work for all these years, I thought that I would swoop in and buy back my family members, easy as that. My dreams of being the hero who reunited her family were just that—dreams. They were the fantastical imaginings of a desperate child with no grasp on reality. The real world was cruel.
My chin shook and, against my will, a hot tear leaked out of my eye and trickled down my face. I wiped it away angrily. I hadn’t cried in years. But once the first tear was out, more followed, along with a ragged sob, and my normally well-controlled emotions took over entirely.
My entire body wracked with sobs as I wept, arms hugging my knees as tightly as I could. Even that didn’t feel like it was enough to ground me. If Mother hadn’t survived, what were the chances of my sister and father surviving? Without them, I had no future. There was nothing worth living for. The possibility of my family being alive had given me the hope I needed to sustain me over the years, but now, that was gone too.
What was the use of accruing wealth if I had no one to share it with? Everything was hopeless.
I heard the crunch of boots on gravel, along with a man’s breathing, and someone pressed their hand onto my shoulder.
“Go away, Lochlan,” I said, head still burrowed into my knees. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“Don’t be like that, lassie,” an unfamiliar voice growled.
I looked up.
It wasn’t Lochlan at all.
Two men leered down at me, smiling in the most unpleasant way.
CHAPTER 24
“Get away from me,” I said, trying to scramble away, but the man gripping my shoulder didn’t loosen his hold, though he did allow me to stand.
“No, lassie, I’m here to help you. Such a pretty girl ought not to be crying. How can I cheer you up?”
My hands flew to where my knives usually were, but I only felt fabric. A pox upon trying to appear ladylike. The fear drove away my despair and cleared my head.
“Release me,” I snarled.
“I told you, I’m here to help?—”
His words were cut off as I dropped my weight and twisted so I slipped out from beneath his palm. My elbow snapped back into his ribs, abrupt and precise. He grunted, more startled than hurt, and laughed.
“We’ve got a feisty one here,” he chuckled, and swung at me.
Without hesitation, I ducked and pivoted so I could drive my heel into the side of his knee in a sharp back-kick. The joint buckled with a wet pop, and his laughter turned into a howl as he stumbled backward.
The second man rushed forward.
