Page 108 of Wings of Destruction

“Of course, people hate that,” I hiss. “No one wants to be reminded of how horrible things are.”

“Maybe not, but pretending doesn’t change anything. I want change. But I know better than to expect it.”

Our whispered argument is heavy and it curves my bones in toward my organs. “An honest to Ether optimist, then?” I clarify.

There’s more to her than I thought. Faye is right, I purposely kept my distance. To engage is to admit defeat. To speak to any of the other maids is to acknowledge that I’m not Morgan Whyte from Fallkirk anymore.

“Not a cheery one,” Faye agrees. Her eyes go flinty. “My father sold me to the school as a young girl. If I’d done the same as you and fought against my circumstances, then I wouldn’t be here today. I’d be dead. Or worse. They’d send me where they’re going to send you.”

There’s no comfort in her words or the way she peers appraisingly at me.

Once again it strikes me that under different circumstances, Faye would look utterly at home on the arm of some army general, shown off for his benefit. With the right makeup and gown, she’d be downright breathtaking.

She has no place on her hands and knees scrubbing floors or toilets.

She hadn’t had a choice.

“There should always be a choice—” I start to say.

“That’s not life.” She pushes up and stares me dead in the face, driving home the poignancy of the conversation. The cover slips to her lap. “There is always some good in the world, sure. Some are born with more than others but it’s up to you to make the best of your situation. Whatever it is.”

Fury is familiar enough, comforting enough, for me to latch onto. With little prompting, I can make Faye the enemy. It’s easy to focus on her and allow the ruptured tide to pour out toward a single target.

“You expect me to make the best of my family and my village being absolutely murdered by a madman? You’re out of your blighted mind! There is no silver lining in being orphaned. I had my entire future stripped away from me. I was supposed to be a student here.”

Her lips thin and in an unimpressed drawl, she says, “Yes. You’ve told everyone already.”

“What kind of silver lining is there now? You want me to pretend I don’t miss my family?”

This time, her direct eye contact burrows under my skin in the worst way. I glare at Faye and she doesn’t even flinch. Sympathy flashes in those round blue eyes but it disappears in the next second and there is nothing but cold neutrality.

Indifference.

She doesn’t care about me or where I came from. She doesn’t care about my past or how every one of my senses has flipped on to high alert.

“Get over it.” She makes it sound so simple. “Do you think I carry my pain around like some victim’s badge of honor? You think I constantly remind everyone how my father sold me? I’m actually glad he did.”

“Ether curse it all!” My reasoning abandons me. “You can’t expect me to believe you.”

I draw my knees up to my chest, curling into a ball.

Faye leans closer. “I had several brothers and sisters to care for when my mother died. And there was no way for me or my father to make a go of it and support them all. He secured me a safe position in the kitchen. For all my sisters, really. One of them is in the kitchens in the palace and one works for the monks.”

“In other words, it could be worse,” I mock.

It’s about to be worse for me. Maybe that’s why I’m fighting so hard. Why can’t I stop my heart from stumbling or dismay from flooding my system?

“Indentured servitude is horrible but we are all safe and I’m well fed. Neither of those things would be true if I weren’t here.” Faye turns her head away. “It’s a shame you never allowed yourself to learn it.”

Faye, having said her piece, bobs her head decisively and turns back to go to sleep. How long has she been squatting on the desire to ream me out? Was this conversation done out of kindness or a desire to speak her mind whether I actually heard her or not?

My entire body tenses under another wave of cold.

Dragon dung, she got to me.

How will I make up for it now? How can I prove I should be kept at the school when I’ve gouged out a hole for myself and willingly tossed myself inside?

I’ll have to figure something out even if every attempt fails.