Carefully, I slip from my perch, scrambling down the outer wall of the estate while all eyes are elsewhere. Laughter and the sharp clinking of glasses cover the gravel crunching under my boots as I drop behind a hedge in the gardens. The aroma of fresh-cut greenery and damp earth is potent as I crouch low, moving among the best cover of the garden to lurk at the veranda’s base, covered by shadow.
Just as I’m about to move again, two individuals emerge. I freeze.
“This is madness, Moreus.” There’s only one woman who could call Lord Ventall by his name and not immediately be reprimanded: Lady Ventall.
Every muscle tenses.
“It is the will of the crown.” Moreus keeps his voice down. Their footsteps approach, and I can imagine they’re getting even more distance from the interior, given that their topic of conversation seems somewhat defiant.
“I have lost one daughter to that monster”—the monster is me—“I will not lose another.”
I know exactly what card I would use. One movement. One thought. And it’s over. Mother’s vengeance is right here.
“It is not our choice.”
“Make it your choice!” she snaps. “You promised me, swore to me you would do anything forthisfamily. Yet I’m beginning to think you’re letting your old one usurp what we’ve built, again.”
“Helena.” Her name has a bit of a growl. I know a warning when I hear it.
“I never turned you in for your treason, I kept your secret and your good name intact, so don’t let him take my other daughter from me,” she begs, voice cracking.
I press my eyes closed and grit my teeth into a snarl. My jaw pops. My fists tremble. I hold myself back with invisible lashings.
Fuck.Fuck.I hate her. I hate her more than anyone. Maybe more than Naethor. One thought and she’s dead. She’sright here.
The vengeance I swore to Mother.
The revenge I promised Arina.
It’s right here.
“Please,” Helena whispers, and I can hear the tears in her voice. Hear the earth-shattering sorrow of a mother who lost her daughter. Of a woman who probably saw her family crumble the moment she learned of her husband’s betrayal.
Moreus is the one behind both our hurt. His selfishness was what set this all into motion. Not that it excuses what she did. But where would it stop?
I can’t…
My hand relaxes, and I hang my head, breathing in the damp night slowly. I can’t do it. What would be the point? More death? More suffering? I’d take Alor’s mother from her just like I took her sister. Just like Alor’s mother took mine from me.
It never fucking ends. Over and over we hurt one another until we’re bled dry. Until we die or there’s nothing left of us worth saving.
Will you forgive me, Mother?I ask her spirit.For not giving you what I promised?
“Everyone, I’ve an announcement to make,” Ravin calls from somewhere inside the house.
“No,” Helena breathes.
“We must.”
This is my last chance. I dare to lift my eyes just above the edge of the veranda floor as they walk away. Magic surges and sputters within me. But I still can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m moving past the endless cycle of killing; otherwise, the world will be drowning in blood. I stare at her back, knowing she’ll never know this kindness.
Emilia, I never meant for you to bear the sins of your mother…butwe’ll call your death punishment enough for her. Let’s call it even, and it ends here.
“I am pleased to present,” Ravin continues from somewhere that I can’t see, can only hear the vague echo of, “Alor Ventall.”
A polite applause. I pause.
