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At the accusation, I matched her glare. “I wish you’d just say what you mean, Eliza.”
“Beric is spiraling. I’d wager you know exactly why.”
“Spiraling…?”
Her words made my stomachache even worse. Beric. My poor, sweet Beric—except he wasn’t sweet, and he wasn’t mine, and her accusation just made me angrier about everything.
“He killed a man in cold blood,” I said. “It’s not my fault if he’s upset that I won’t tolerate behavior like that.”
“Won’t tolerate—? I want to fight you.” Eliza snatched my cup and slammed it down on the side table—luckily it had been nearly empty, but the gesture still left me scowling. “I like you, Cali, but I won’t sit by and let you continue what Vi started.”
The implication made me uncomfortable, but I pushed through anyway, glaring at Eliza defiantly. “He commits monstrous acts and then is offended to be called a monster?”
“He had no choice, you do know that?”
“Did you have no choice?” I snapped. “Or was trapping knights inside the palace your idea all along?”
Eliza paused. It was clear she was thinking up an answer. Thinking up more lies.
“Well?” I demanded.
“You have no idea what my father is capable of.”
I scoffed. “He may be the king, but he’s also just a man—”
“You’ve known him a week. I’ve been dealing with him my entire life. He’s a madman, Cali. A powerful one, at that.”
He was unnerving. Terrifying. But I couldn’t decide if what he had done at the picnic, encouraging Beric to finish what he’d started, qualified as mad. Eccentric, maybe. Certainly cruel. But I had yet to see any evidence of madness. In fact, he seemed to know exactly how to make everyone do as he pleased, which didn’t seem mad to me at all.
Still, he was human like the rest of us. Beric and I had felled a demon without him, which meant his magic couldn’t have been stronger by much.
“Blame me if you must,” Eliza said. “But Beric devotes every moment of his life to caring for you, to making sure you’re safe. And if a traumatized boy feels he has to comply with a madman’s orders to protect the people he loves, who are you to judge him?”
“The duke wasn’t protected.” I got out from my bed on the opposite side from where Eliza sat, still sick but now desperate for air—air I would never get here, in this windowless room. “Besides, my childhood wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, and you don’t see me going around killing people.”
I felt wretched as soon as the words left my mouth. My aunt and uncle didn’t treat me equal to Ann, but I always had what I needed. They never called me stupid or strange or broken. And all because of something he couldn’t control, something that endeared him so to me, added to his beauty rather than detracted.
And yet, I couldn’t get past the injustice of what he’d done.
Can’t you, Cali? Or are you simply mad because he killed the one man who would finally rid you of your cousin?
I took a breath. “When do one’s actions become their own responsibility? The past is the past, even if it was an awful one.”
Eliza grimaced, as if she tasted blood. “That’s so … disappointing, Cali.”
“Disappointing? Why? Because it’s not selfless?” I folded my arms. “I’ve sacrificed my own feelings for the sake of others my whole life, and I’m sick of it.”
Eliza stood up, and she did indeed look ready to fight me. I’d never seen her angry, and it made me feel betrayed. That my own maid, who was supposed to be my friend, wouldn’t be on my side. I’d only had four people—five, including Kat—I could go to for support, and now it seemed my allies were dwindling.
“Well, then,” she said, bitterly. “I hope you’ve enjoyed crushing that sweet boy’s spirit in the pursuit of false self-care.”
And she left the room, just as Faline was entering. She watched Eliza leave, curious, before coming over and placing a bowl of hot broth on my side table.
“There’s no need for you to be up, poor dear.” She half-shooed, half-escorted me back to bed. “Drink this and get some rest. We’ll come in and check on you later to decide if you’re well enough for court.”
But I didn’t want to stay in bed. I wanted to leave here and never look back. This position—this place—wasn’t what I thought. Nor what I wanted. It wasn’t the fairy tale I’d always thought to work with the king … or to fall in love with my squire.
CHAPTER 33CALLIOPE
