“Like I don’t know that,” she muttered, trying to make even medallions from the carrots.
“And who do you blame? Someone you can’t even remember. Someone who gave you everything, only to be forgotten. You’re nothing without her.”
“I can do this,” she shot back. “I’m made it this far, and I can finish it on my own.”
Gaetan’s large frame crowded her chamber from every single panel. “There’s the real Ellie. The one who charges ahead, thinking she knows best. Who thinks that her happiness is worth more than everyone else.”
Elara cut harder. Faster.
“That’s not true. I made a mistake.”
She moved on to the celery.
“Youwantedthis to happen.”
“I didn’t.”
“Was the price worth it?”
“Shut up!”
“We both know you’ll be back at my door, begging for scraps by tomorrow.”
“SHUT UP!”
The knife missed.
Pain burned up her finger from a deep cut. It wept ruby droplets across her station, then bloomed into her coat, where she stuffed it to stem the bleeding.
The mirrors were empty. Gaetan was gone.
No.
He’d never been here.
She patched up her finger and put a glove on before scraping the vegetables into a pan.
“He’s right, you know.”
The hair on her neck stood up at the new voice.
Ignore it.Giving in would only show the Counseil they were winning.
She started a flame on the stove and added butter to sauté the vegetables.
“You can’t even look at me. Pathetic.”
It was the perfect bait.
Fernand was leaning against the side of the mirrors, arms folded arrogantly over his chest. There was no hint of kindness in his exhausted eyes, not even a shadow of what he’d once felt for her.
“You can’t run from who you are,” he continued. “You’ve tried your whole life, and look at yourself. Look what you’ve done.”
“I made it here,” she whispered.
“With the likes of them?” Fernand sneered upward, toward the Counseil.
Elara winced as fevered whispers filled the arena.
