“Because Brownston is a cult,” she finally says, “and Raza is not. They’re not just following a rulebook all the time that tells them what to think and how to act. They are their own individual persons, not a horde mind where one person can so easily be replaced by another. Richard is Richard. Jace is Jace, you know?”
I frown. She’s mentioned our kingdom being a cult many times before. The first time was when we were teenagers, but that was far from the last. I’ve always nodded along in complete agreement because a good brownie doesn’t argue, but this time, I reallywant to understand. She’s adjusted so much better tolife in Raza. I want that too – to be happy here despite all the violence and pain. To not just be in love with its king but with the entire kingdom.
“But there’s no one else like you either,” I say softly, “and you’re not a Razian.”
“No, I am not,” she says, squeezing my arm again. “But I never bought into the cult mentality – all the rules, I mean.”
That’s true. She broke them left and right. She was asked to go to prison all the time, but she never did.
“And you’ve always struggled to stick to the rules too, Arienna, especially when you’re drunk. You feel things you aren’t ‘supposed to’, real things, like me. It’s why we’re such good friends. Everyone else is so lost in the cult, but you and I?” She hugs me tight, talking fast now, as if she’s been waiting forever to have this conversation. Whereas, I am slow and hesitant, so full of uncertainty.
“We know there’s more to life than just being happy or horny. It’s why you save all the monsters you find – you’re sad that they’re hurt or alone.”
I frown. “But a good brownie always helps someone in need.”
“No,” Fabia says sharply. “A ‘good brownie’ helps out of devotion to the cult rules.Youhelp because you genuinely care about them. Remember when you brought back that praying mantis?”
I smile at the memory of the petal-shaped beauty. “She was lovely.”
“She was vicious as fuck. She almost bit your head off.”
“We were just practicing her mating dances. She loved me.”
“Ugh, no. She loved thetasteof you.”
“So does Richard.”
“Ugh.Ew.” She shoves me away, and I laugh. It’s quieter but not as broken. The world never feels as bad when Fabia is by my side.
Pulling me back against her, she sighs. “And you miss them, don’t you? All the monsters you raised and released?”
“I didn’treleasethem,” I mutter. “You made me get rid of them.” I can’t see her face, but I know she’s rolling her eyes.
“The point is that you miss them. Because you’reyou. But your mum and sister and everyone in Brownston, they don’t miss anything, do they? Even if someone goes missing in the night or dies in front of them, they never mourn their absence.”
A frown pulls at my lips, but looking back on everything, I know she’s right. The rules don’t come as naturally to me as they do to everyone else. As much as I try to be a good brownie, it always takes so much effort.
I never grew comfortable with the family orgies, always finding a reason not to attend. I never stopped getting hurt when my exes moved on. I secretly judged the people who were into necrophilia – something no brownie should ever do. And I spent numerous nights tossing and turning, in so much pain as I thought about all the unloved animals out there, slumming it in the wild.
My chest tightening, I drop my gaze. I force a smile, then let it drop again. “I guess I get what you’re saying,” I say uncertainly. “Thinking about mum being dead – it’s not sad, but if you died…”
I swallow hard as I think about seeing her body cut down at the market. A fractured giggle escapes me. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I hug her tight. “I love you, Fabia.”
“I love you too, Ari.”
A knock on the door has us both looking up. A moment later, it opens, and Jace comes in with a tray of steaming, hot food. Despite my stomach growling at the sight of it, I stay where I am, my arms wrapped around my friend.
Placing the tray down on one of the bedside tables, Jace shares a look with her. Then he leaves, shutting the door behind him.
My stomach growls. I ignore it, but Fabia peels my arms off her and reaches over to grab a frog leg and vegetable kebab. Dipping it in the dark sauce provided, she holds it out to me.
“I don’t feel like eating,” I say.
She gestures for me to take it. “You need your fuel. Come on. Eat this one. Then I’ll eat the rest.”
Exhaling softly, I take the kebab and bring it to my lips. The meat is juicy, perfectly cooked, and the hunger sleeping in my belly awakens with a grumble.
Fabia’s eyes light up when I start on my second one. Smiling back at her, I take a hearty bite.
