Chapter 36 The Amateur Performance
The walls of this bookstore were shrinking.
I swear, the shelves were moving closer by the second.
My lungs were screaming. It wasn't just the fear, it was the damn corset.
Whoever designed these things wanted women to pass out on purpose.
Between the panic and the whalebone crushing my ribs, I was about ten seconds away from meeting my maker.
Claus wasn't moving. He was looking at me like he was waiting for a punchline.
"I liked you," I blurted out.
He blinked. Once. Twice. "What?"
I grabbed at the last bit of sanity I had left.
I had to pivot, and I had to do it now. "The diary. I found an old diary in the attic. After the horse accident... the memories were gone, but the book was still there. It says... it says everything. The bullying, the training grounds, the logs. It wasn't hate, Claus. It was... it was admiration."
I cringed. Even in my own head, that sounded like the worst lie in history. Claus looked like I'd just slapped him. He froze, his arms still locked on the shelves. "You're joking."
"I'm not!" I was sweating bullets now. "Why do you think I acted out? I was a kid! I didn't know how to talk to you. I thought if I challenged you, you'd notice me. It's pathetic, I know, but......."
"Stop," he interrupted, his voice rough. "That is the most insane thing I have ever heard."
"It's the truth!" I gasped.
I couldn't do this. I was dying. The corset was a torture device. I needed air, and I needed to get out of this aisle before my legs gave out for real.
Plan B. Time to commit.
I grabbed at my collar, my hands shaking like crazy. "I... I can't... the air..."
"Ilse?" Claus frowned, his aggressive stance wavering for a split second.
Pop.
I ripped the top button of my bodice open. Then the second one. My fingers were fumbling, making it look clumsy and desperate. I needed him to be distracted. I needed him to see 'damsel in distress' instead of 'suspicious noble.'
"My corset," I wheezed, leaning forward just enough so he had to look. "It's too tight. I can't... breathe..."
I let my knees buckle.
It wasn't a graceful 'faint' like in those shitty romance books where the girl floats to the ground.
I just dropped like a sack of bricks. I went limp, letting my head roll to the side, hoping to god I didn't smash my face on the wooden floorboards.
Claus reacted exactly how I hoped. He wasn't a babysitter; he was a soldier.
He didn't know what to do with a girl who was suddenly dead weight.
He lunged forward, catching me before I hit the dirt. His arms were solid, catching me halfway down. He was stiff, holding me at arm's length like I was a live grenade.
"Ilse? Hey. Wake up."
He sounded panicked. He actually sounded panicked. I kept my eyes shut tight, my chest heaving in rhythmic, shallow breaths. Keep it together, Anna. Just three more minutes and he'll carry you out. Then you run.