Chapter 30
Thirty
“Forgive the intrusion,” Von Nevus says to Elodie, “but I overheard your conversation and had to offer my support. The entire council is beside ourselves with worry for your mother.”
His tone is gentle, and his hands are clasped fervently at his chest, but the glint in his eyes is far from sympathetic.
He reminds me of a grinning jackal, and I want to climb up on my chair and shout his crimes for all to hear.
So everyone knows how he cornered me. What he tried to take from me. What he has taken from other girls.
I have no doubt he’s leading the charge against Elodie’s mother, but when I try to voice this accusation, my jaw won’t move.
It’s shut tighter than a rusted padlock.
I gaze desperately across the salon, praying someone will see my panic and intervene, but Elodie is cornered with me, and none of the other Vanzadorian nobles would notice my discomfort, let alone accuse a high-ranking councilor like Von Nevus of anything untoward.
Even if they suspected he was harassing me, a good portion of them would probably applaud him for seizing the opportunity and taking what he wants.
“I see I’ve rendered you speechless,” he chuckles when neither Elodie nor I reply. “I tend to have that effect on people.”
Only because your victims are too traumatized to speak! I want to bellow, but all that comes out is a gasping wheeze.
Elodie narrows her eyes at Von Nevus. “Thank you for your prayers, Councilor, but you should know it’s impolite to eavesdrop,” she says sharply.
He gallantly removes his tasseled cap. “It’s also criminal for two ladies, as lovely as yourselves, to be sitting alone with your grief. Allow me to lighten your spirits. Shall we take a turn about the room, Miss Indira? I’ve been hoping to continue our previous conversation.”
Von Nevus offers me his hand, and all I can see, smell, and even taste is the blood I drew with the letter opener. That trail of red, snaking down his wrist, and his disgusting tongue, lapping it up.
Elodie flashes me an insistent look, compelling me to dismiss him, but the harder I try, the more the words get lodged behind a wall of panic, sealing off my throat.
With a concerned frown, Elodie addresses Von Nevus herself. “I’m afraid we must pass on your kind offer. We’re engaged in an important private conversation.”
Von Nevus doesn’t even blink at her dismissal. He keeps his attention fixed on me. “Let the princess speak for herself. What do you say, Little Ro?”
No!
I scream it. Shout it. So loud, my throat feels raw and ripped open.
But still, I don’t make a sound.
I’m a prisoner in my own body.
Taking my silence for assent, Von Nevus reaches for my hand.
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the brush of his clammy fingers. But another hand comes down on the back of my chair and drags me out of Von Nevus’s reach.
“I’m afraid I must whisk my wife away,” says a voice that sounds like Alaric’s. But it can’t be. He refused to come. “I’ve shared her long enough,” the voice continues, and a gloved hand adorned with fine white embroidery takes me by the elbow and helps me to my feet.
I’m so panicked and surprised, my wobbly legs give way, but surprisingly, I don’t hit the ground. The scents of leather and cardamom invade my nose as muscular arms encircle me.
“I’ve got you,” the voice that can’t be Alaric’s whispers. But when I glance up, he’s there, glaring at Von Nevus with his dangerous, beautiful eyes
I’m hallucinating. In the throes of a panic attack. It’s the only explanation.
“Miss Tomasko.” Alaric nods politely at Elodie, who’s glancing between my husband and me with giddy delight. Then he ushers me away, across the salon, and I’m so stunned, I can do nothing but trip along as he drags me past Queen Tessa and dozens of courtiers.
They wave and call out to him, but Alaric ignores them all, escorting me out of the salon with long confident strides.
Once we’re down the hall and around the corner, I expect him to drop me like a scalding pot.
Maybe even wipe his hands on his waistcoat to remove the stain of my touch.
But he continues gripping my arm until we reach my chamber door.
Then he shocks me again by letting himself in—as if he’s joined me in my private quarters a hundred times before.
“Indira?” Delphine’s voice chimes from the adjoining bathing chamber.
“I didn’t think you’d return so soon. Did you have any luck finding—” Her head pops around the corner, and when she sees Alaric, her eyes grow round.
“Your Highness! I-I didn’t realize…” She folds into a clumsy bow and curiously watches Alaric help me across the room.
What’s going on? she mouths when he turns to help me onto the sofa.
I know how this must look—me, draped all over him, the two of us stealing into my private quarters—but I’m still incapable of speech. Incapable of doing anything but dropping onto the sofa and melting into the cushions.
The longer I remain silent, the more urgently Delphine looks between Alaric and me, then down to the bowl in her hands—as if judging its heft.
She makes a beeline across the sitting room, past Alaric, and stops in front of me, wordlessly asking if this encounter is the same as my ill-fated encounter with Von Nevus. If I’m with Alaric against my will.
For the second time today, my chest swells with gratitude for another brave girl who, against all reason, cares for me.
Delphine is willing to face down the crown prince on my behalf, armed with nothing but a washbasin.
No one, other than Rowenna, has ever stood up for me like this.
Partly because I didn’t allow it. I thought it would diminish my and Rowenna’s connection to let anyone else in.
But it turns out love isn’t finite. A portion isn’t taken from one recipient when it’s shared with another. It simply grows.
“Thank you for escorting her here, Your Highness,” Delphine says to Alaric. “That was most kind, but I can take it from here. Indira looks unwell, and I don’t want you to catch—”
“Actually, I’d like to stay,” Alaric says.
Delphine looks to me with panicked eyes.
“It’s okay,” I manage to whisper.
“You’re certain?” She flicks another suspicious glance at Alaric.
I reach for Delphine’s hand and squeeze it tightly. Gratefully. “Yes. Why don’t you spend the night with Cloudia? I made another dose of the bagrava tincture. It’s ready to go in the solarium. Be sure to note any changes.”
Delphine thanks me graciously and moves toward the hidden door, but before she vanishes, she throws Alaric an unmistakable look of warning.
“I see why you like her,” he says once the door has closed. “Good friends are hard to come by around here.”
He pours a glass of water from a pitcher on the side table and hands it to me. I gratefully gulp it down, so thirsty I hardly notice the silty flavor.
“So,” Alaric says, easing down next to me. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there?”
“Nothing happened. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but my voice is still wispy and weak.
“You looked like you were going to be sick. And you were so quiet.”
I snort. “Isn’t that a good thing? You made it clear you have no interest in speaking with me.”
“Yes, but this was too quiet. Disconcertingly quiet. What did Von Nevus do?”
“Why were you there at all?” I volley back.
“Why did you defend me to my father’s councilors?” Alaric asks, his voice soft.
Mortifying heat spreads across my cheeks. “You heard that? How long were you in the salon?”
“Not long. Though I probably didn’t need to be there at all. I think I could have heard you shouting from my chamber.”
“It’s a new development—since Rowenna died. I can’t seem to keep my opinions to myself when I’m passionate about a subject.”
“Are you saying you’re passionate about me?” Alaric raises his too-perfect brows.
I glare at him and shove his shoulder. “The things the courtiers were saying were cruel and untrue. I couldn’t just listen to their lies.”
Alaric nods, his gaze softening into the same expression he wore when he watched me grow the bagrava. “That’s why I came to your defense too. I couldn’t just stand by and watch Von Nevus torment you. I’m the only one who gets to do that.”
I shove his shoulder again. “That still doesn’t explain why you were there in the first place.”
“I came to help you look for hidden memories. I felt guilty for brushing you off after you kindly tried to relay news of Delphine’s sister.”
Being kind was hardly all I was trying to accomplish, but I keep that to myself.
“So, did you find any memories you want me to bring to life?” Alaric presses.
I shake my head. “Sadly, no.”
“Then do you want to tell me what happened with Councilor Von Nevus? Why did you panic like that?”
“You’ll never believe me, so I see no point telling you.”
“I never would have believed you’d publicly defend me, either, so we’ve already left the realm of plausibility far behind.” When I still refuse, he adds, “Take your time. I’m more than happy to sit here all evening…together.” He shimmies deeper into the sofa and throws me a needling smile.
I tilt my head back with a groan. “Fine. Councilor Garitt Von Nevus approached me not long after I arrived on the mountain, claiming to be Rowenna’s mentor and ally.
He offered to be the same for me. Said he’d help me look for answers about her death and teach me how to navigate life in the Fortress.
But his offer didn’t come without a price.
H-he made advances. He cornered me and tried to… ”
My hand drifts to where he caressed my arm, and a sob escapes me.