Page 158 of Reign

“No,” she says. “I have to go.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.” She looks toward the unfinished garden, her jaw tightening. “In this family, you show up. Even when you don’t want to. Especially then.”

She says it as though it is a law of nature rather than a rule her brothers taught her.

“Elena.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Her eyes flash. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say true things like they give you authority over me.”

I hold her gaze.

She hates that I reached the truth before she chose to give it to me. Too many men have treated understanding her as permission to make her choices.

I won’t.

“We’re going together,” I say. “You can complain to me the entire drive.”

She studies me, searching for the demand hidden inside the offer.

What she finds is certainty. Whatever waits at Santo’s estate, she’ll face it with me beside her.

Finally, she looks away and brushes at the dirt on her palms. “Fine.”

She is quiet for another moment before adding, “But if Santo says something stupid, I’m leaving.”

“If Santo says something stupid, I’ll open the door for you.”

She almost smiles. “Very supportive of you.”

“I’m practical.”

“No,” she says, looking back toward the garden. “You’re something else.”

I don’t ask her what.

I’m beginning to suspect neither of us is ready for the answer.

***

Elena’s bedroom door is open.

She’s been in my house long enough for me to know that an open door means she’s too distracted to remember anyone can see inside.

I stop at the threshold and knock once against the frame.

She startles anyway. “I’m sorry.”

She nearly loses her balance trying to step into one heel, catches herself against the vanity, then looks down at the shoe like it’s ruining her evening.