He hadn’t done that for her. Whether because he was blinded by his love, or because he didn’t want to make waves. Birdie refused to be blinded, and she would make waves. She would make a whole typhoon if she had to.
“I said get upstairs.”
“And I said no.”
“You ungrateful little brat.”
“What do I have to be grateful for? You’ve done nothing but abuse me, treat me like a servant. You’ve done nothing but spend the money that I earn and—”
She grabbed the back of Birdie’s neck, and pinned her arm behind her back, forcing her to begin marching up the stairs. “Stop,” Birdie shouted.
“You will get upstairs. Or I will throw you down them. And then what will happen to your royal meal ticket?”
Stunned by the cruelty, Birdie didn’t fight as she was shoved into the attic room, the door locked firmly behind her.
She could hear her stepmother going back downstairs and she pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear what was going on. She closed her eyes, her heart throbbing in her chest.
It was the strangest thing to be suspended in this moment. Where both the king and her stepmother felt like her adversaries, and she had to root for one of them.
No. You don’t. You root for yourself.Yes. She was on her own team. Her own side. She cared about her future. And the future of her child. If Onyx couldn’t be the man that she had dreamed he was, she would be everything that her child needed. She would be the mother that she had always longed to know. She would be everything her child needed, but it started now. It started with facing them both down. She had never considered herself downtrodden. But over the years, her world had gotten smaller and smaller, and things that should’ve felt outrageous had begun to feel reasonable. The way that her stepmother treated her. The way that she locked her away. The way that she had been so controlled. The way her entire life was situated around other people. Their desires. Their comfort. She had thought that it was acceptable because they were family. Because it was the last thing her father had said to her. And then, she had begun to idolize Onyx.
Because he was beautiful. Because she saw him every day and he treated her with the most basic kindness. But when she had needed him most he had betrayed her. And so now she had clarity.
She would fly with her own wings.
She wouldn’t wait for anyone’s permission; she wouldn’t wait for their acceptance or their kindness.
She had courage. That was all that mattered.
She went into the bathroom and began to dig through her makeup bag. Inside, she found all of the pins that she used to secure her hair every day for her work at the palace. She smiled just slightly, because they would be her route to freedom. She began to fiddle with the lock in the door, bending and twisting and contorting one hairpin, bringing down one of the lock mechanisms, and letting that pin rest there as she grabbed another and twisted it, driving it through the center of the lock until she heard it click.
And then, Birdie freed herself.
She stepped right out of the attic, lifted her chin high and began to walk down the stairs. She heard voices, angry male voices, and the sound of her stepmother, who was also angry, but clearly continuing to try to insert herself into this whole situation with the king.
“She has run away, Your Highness. She is such a treasonous and willful girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to pass the child of another man off as yours. She isn’t faithful. It’s one reason I’ve had to keep such an eye on her all these years. It’s done her well to work at the palace because it keeps her focused. Without which I fear she runs about spreading her legs for everyone and everything.”
Just then, Birdie reached the bottom of the stairs, and rounded the corner to the entryway.
“Isn’t it so nice that I was able to take a break from my whoring to attend to this conversation that seems to be about me.”
Her stepmother whirled around. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you not remember that you locked me in the attic? A couple of hairpins sorted me out just fine.”
“Locked in the attic?”
For the first time, she forced herself to look at Onyx. He was flanked by Andrei, the two of them looking like angels of death. Onyx held one of her shoes in his hand.
“I have come to retrieve you,” he said.
“I don’t recall asking to be retrieved.”
“It is a command. From your king.”
“Your Highness, with no offense meant whatsoever, you had your opportunity for me to go with you willingly. You spoiled it.”
“But I am a king, and so my word will be law, will it not?”
