My steps slowed as I studied the green and purple bruise covering the right side of her face. One eye was swollen, and yet she blinked as if nothing were wrong.
Despite my better judgement, a sense of betrayal twinged within me. “You should have awoken me,” I told her, a desperate ache in my voice.
She shrugged. “Why?”
“Ella, you have a black eye.”
“I tripped. Hit a carriage shaft.”
My nostrils flared. I couldn’t let her brush me off—not any longer. “Oh, shut up Ella. Don’t lie to me.”
Her face contorted, and for the first time ever, I saw anger flash across her features. “Don’t tell me what I should or can do, Lyra. I tripped.”
“You’re lying.” I stepped closer, examining her face. I lifted a hand to her cheek, then hesitated, afraid my touch would only make Ella retreat even further inside herself. “You’re lying to me,” I repeated, no longer able to ignore the evidence directly in front of my face.
What kind of a friend was I? What kind of aunt? It seemed I had failed in everything.
Panic seeped into my voice. “You’ve been lying to me about your home life. Why?”
Ella stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I took a shaky breath. “It’s clear one, or both, of your parentshave been mistreating you, Ella. Let me help.”
“I don’t work here anymore.”
My brows furrowed. “What?”
“I said I don’t work here anymore.” She cleared her throat. “I quit today. I’m going back to live at home again.”
She turned to move past me, but I grabbed her arm to force her to finish our conversation.
But as my fingers pressed into her arm, she winced, her features contorting in pain.
I let go. “Ella…”
She walked past me, climbing the stairs steadily.
“Ella, please listen to me.” I climbed after her, trying to keep panic from leeching into my words.
She ignored me, turning to climb the next flight. My mind raced for the right words to say. I’d never been in this situation before, never seen scars scattered over someone’s body by those that were meant to love them. It was a terrifying realization I didn’t even know how to broach.
“Ella, stay here. Stay at the palace,” I begged. “I bet Mrs. Calloway will let you live here permanently when she sees you. I’ll advocate for you. We can make a plan.”
At that, Ella whirled around, fury lighting her eyes. I stumbled back.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Lyra,” she snapped. “You think you know me—you don’t. You think you know what my family is like.You. Do. Not. I tripped and hit the side of my face. Everybody trips.” She threw her arms wide. “And now I would like everyone to leave me alone so I can go tend my sick father and forget I ever lived in this cursed palace.”
She continued ascending the stairs, but I could no longer follow.
I blinked back tears, watching as my best friend in the entire world retreated from my vision, from my life, from my world.
Afraid I might never see her again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
My eyes scanned the eldest prince’s chambers. A thin layer of dust coated the shelves, and several old food trays and cups crowded his desk amidst crinkled papers.
Now that Ella had fled the palace, Anna and I would be covering her duties as well as our own until Mrs. Calloway, the housekeeper, found a replacement.
