It’s silent for a few minutes, then she steps out, wearing a simple gray day dress. “I don’t remember anything clearly. It’s like the last several days are a blur. Anytime I let my mind wander, I saw him again. I had to watch him die a thousand times.”
My jaw tightens. I also had to live through it, but I haven’t told anyone that. Thankfully, I haven’t seen anyone else’s memories since then, but I’ve also avoided touching anyone. I’m not certain what triggered it, but I am not in a hurry to experience that again.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” Charlotte calls.
A pair of servants enter to set up breakfast at the small table in front of the couch. Charlotte’s room isn’t as elaborate as mine. She has a bed, desk, nightstands, and a small sitting area with a sofa and two chairs. They’re set up in a horseshoe shape around a small table facing her fireplace.
It’s still a gorgeous, well appointed, and large room. It’s hard to believe I view this as small compared to some of the other accommodations in the estate.
“Thank you,” Charlotte says. She walks to the table, then sits.
Antonia is watching Charlotte with a mixture of curiosity and concern. I’m not sure how I feel. It’s like nothing changed. As if the last week never happened.
“Are you two coming?” Charlotte asks as she pours tea into her cup without looking over at us.
I have no place to judge how people grieve. I drank myself into a stupor after my brothers died then agreed to enter the castle as a spy on what I thought was a one-way path to my own demise.
Out of the two of us, what she’s doing is probably a better way of coping. I settle into the chair across from Charlotte and Antonia sits between us.
“Tea?” Charlotte holds the pot.
“Please.” Antonia pushes her cup closer. I do the same with mine and Charlotte fills both.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” I lift my cup and watch the steam billowing from it.
“I decided I’d be like you,” she says.
“Like me?”
“Yes. Instead of wallowing, I’d get revenge.”
Fine. Maybe neither of us is coping well.
“I suppose I’ll have to carry out my tasks in Katherine’s name, then, since both of you have others to mourn,” Antonia says.
“I fear the list of who we’re fighting for gets longer every day.” I take a small sip of tea, then set the cup down.
“How many died?” Charlotte asks, her tone solemn.
“Thirteen. Juliette, two in her household, and ten here at the Winter Estate. We don’t yet know if there were any at the castle or anywhere else,” I say.
“You still haven’t heard from the emperor?” Charlotte asks.
I shake my head.
“I’m sure news will arrive soon,” Antonia says.
“And where is Genevieve?” Charlotte makes a show of looking around the room.
“Probably out with Ludis again. At least she’s keeping him mostly occupied,” I say.
“I don’t know how she can stand to be around him. There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl,” Charlotte says.
“I know exactly what you mean.” I shove the plate of pastries toward her, she picks one up and delicately sets it on her plate. Antonia grabs one, then I choose one for myself.
It’s such a simple, normal thing to be sitting here, eating. But it feels wrong. There’re so many unfinished plans and lingering questions gnawing at me. I’m not sure how long I can last without finding out something that might help me with my tasks.
