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“So they didn’t care about me. They cared about everyone,” I shot back.
“To you, that’s worse, isn’t it?” Odessa shook her head. “Oh, to be a child again. I don’t envy you the experience a bit.”
“I’m hardly a child,” I said, tossing my head.
A stable boy certainly hadn’t thought so. He had flashed me a wink when I’d led my horse out that afternoon and asked me to meet him at the tavern tonight.
I wouldn’t, of course. Stupid boy.
“You may look like a fourteen-year-old girl, Medra, but you most certainly are just a child. You’ve been alive for less than a year. That’s the tragedy.”
“Tragedy?”
Odessa looked at me with pity. “Don’t you see? They don’t even know.”
I shook my head, still not understanding.
“Your aunt and uncle. They’re expecting you to still be a baby when they get back.”
If they got back. But I kept my mouth shut.
“But you’ll be a woman,” she continued. “Or close to it. They’re missing everything. It will break their hearts.”
Like it had broken mine.
I wouldn’t say that though. Weak and pitiful. They were the worst things to be.
Like my other uncle. Resting in a bed chamber, so silent and still. So alone. Everyone pitied him. No one really thought Kaye Pendragon would ever rise again.
We had stopped near the edge of the castle grounds.
“They love you, Medra,” Odessa said softly. “You are loved.”
She reached out her unhurt hand to touch my arm, and I recoiled. Quickly, she held up her hand.
“It’s all right. Slow moves.”
No one had tried to touch me with affection in so long. I couldn’t remember the last time.
Crescent had tried to embrace me once. I had hissed at him then watched his eyes widen. In fright, disgust, or horror—I was never sure which. But he hadn’t tried it again. Touching me just once—that had been enough for him.
“But I won’t stop trying,” Odessa said now. “And I promise you, neither will your aunt or uncle when they return. We are your family, Medra. There is no pushing us away. No matter how hard you try.”
“You’re not my family,” I spat. “We’re nothing alike.”
I wanted to wound her. To be cruel. But suddenly, I felt so tired. I couldn’t force out more bitter words.
I looked at her arm. She had already done so much for me. She had stayed. She had trained me. Taught me to fight. Taught me so many skills Sir Ector could not have.
She had silenced any servant who dared to speak ill of me. Sent them all packing.
She didn’t know I knew, but I did. I watched. I listened.
Even Crescent. She had given him an earful. A few days after she’d arrived, I’d come across them. She’d told him everything he’d done wrong, every way he’d failed me.
And then she’d stayed.
“You don’t have to consider me your family,” Odessa said quietly. If she was hurt, I couldn’t tell. “I can still consider you mine.”
