I shook my head. “Don’t worry.”
“No, I mean with the other problem.” She opened her hand as if offering it to me. “I might not be the best person for the job, but perhaps we can help each other.”
The familiar choking feeling crept over me like a file of tarantulas. “It won’t work. This is who I am, and that’s it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
The truth was that, every time I’d tried to overcome my disgust for touching people and being touched, I’d failed. But for Irene, I would try again.
“I won’t insist.” She stroked her arm absentmindedly, and I wondered if she was thinking about yesterday. “But I’m happy to help.”
Once at Raven Hall, she followed me, and even though she didn’t speak, I feared she didn’t see me with respect anymore. I had to bloody fix my problem, or she would completely change her mind about me.
Graves was chopping wood at the end of the yard, something he loved to do. He claimed it calmed him, but it didn’t work.
“Ravenhill.” He crossed the yard to talk to me.
“Graves, what is it?” I pushed aside the shameful episode, standing in the shadow of the sycamore tree.
“I heard that Knight wants to sign the bill restricting the use of magic, proposed by the Fair Court.” He swung the axe over his shoulder, eyeing Irene with interest.
“He hasn’t signed it so far. But why do you care?”
He smelt of wet dog and acrid sweat, strongly enough to cleanse my nose of the stench of fear.
Graves’s pulse spiked, and his smell changed. Was he anxious? “I don’t trust Knight. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hidden reason to support the bill.”
I scratched my chin. “Or you’re searching for an excuse to make me fight him.”
“He doesn’t deserve the role of Duke of the Moon Court.”
I chuckled. “Funny. You said the same thing about me.” I turned around and headed for the mansion, letting the werewolf grumble behind me.
“Is Graves right?” Irene walked next to me. “Could there be an ulterior motive behind Knight’s support for that bill?”
“There’s certainly an ulterior motive, but if Knight signs and the bill passes, the fairies will go after him next. The werewolves use magic to transform. If the law restricts how many times a werewolf can transform in a day, Knight won’t be happy.”
A sudden tiredness caught me as I continued upstairs. The sunlight and the moment of panic weakened me. I needed to feed. Irene didn’t seem to fare better.
In the hallway on the first floor, we paused.
She loitered, shifting her weight.
I should say something. “Keep studying the deep layers of auras.” Politics and advice. Great. The right things to talk about with her.
She nodded without enthusiasm. “And if you change your mind, let me know.”
I walked backwards awkwardly, nearly tripping on my own feet, just to keep looking at her. She headed for her room, and I exhaled between my teeth when she rounded the corner as a strange combination of relief and yearning hit me.
On the one hand, her closeness challenged my fears. On the other, the constant struggle tired me.
In my bedroom, I paced in front of the blazing fire, opening and closing my hands. I paused only to stare at my reflection in the mirror. My image was neat and sharp. No smudged edges, a good indication I wasn’t turning into a rogue. Or it was an illusion.
I put my hand on the smooth surface of the mirror. How much of my soul was left? Mirrors reflected a person’s soul, and rogues were soulless. They didn’t have any reflections or cast any shadows. Of all the terrible things my curse carried, losing my reflection terrified me the most.
Hunger caused my muscles to strain and tense and my stomach to cramp. The temptation to unleash the beast inside of me, jump through the window, and search for prey was so strong that my fangs lengthened on their own.
If I didn’t feed, I would end up biting one of my servants.
