Page 39 of For the Ghastly and Beautiful

Chapter11

Ecaeris

DAY THIRTY-THREE

Anger builds in my chest, a crushing weight I can’t escape. The surface of my skin is near boiling as Ada leaves us. I keep my gaze locked on her retreating back until I can no longer see her. And then I stare a little more, not wanting to miss her if she returns.

I shouldn’t have directed my frustration at Ada. I don’t know that she knew what was happening, but part of me still considers an alternate option.

I’m torn between chasing after her or confronting my mother.

But I stay.

Not because I’m afraid of the fall-out of my temper. No. I stay because Isolde knew I was here. She looked at me, saw me standing at the pond when they came into the garden.

Would she have told me this version of the past if Ada hadn’t asked?

All the princes of Spiran resemble their mothers. It never occurred to me that one of the Mongrel kings might not be my father. I haven’t wanted to know who exactly; I view each of them as my parents as much as Isolde herself.

The other princes are the only point of reference I’ve ever had. Since none of them look like their fathers, I didn’t find it strange.

I stare at the woman in front of me, and I’m lost for words until she speaks.

“I know how you must be feeling.”

“I don’t even know how I feel. You’ve been lying?” I scoff at myself. “Of course you have.”

“I spoke of Elias to you.”

I scrub my face in annoyance. “You never told me he wasn’t a Mongrel.”

“You didn’t wonder?” she cautiously inquires.

“I didn—”

“You’re not angry that he wasn’t a Mongrel.”

“No. Yes.” I sound like Ada. “You told me ‌you didn’t know who my father was; that a beast killed Elias before you knew you were with child. You gave me partial details, never the truth.”

Her brows furrow. “This wouldn’t normally matter to you. It would only push you to find the answers out for yourself.”

“It matters now.”

“Why?” she demands.

“Because.” I growl in frustration. “It matters because there was a way of things, a stable one that I understood. And if all this is a lie, then what else is?”

I pull at my hair before glancing away. “I can’t trust anything, not even my own judgment. How can I approach her with my feelings if nothing is as it seems?”

“Ahh. This isn’t about Elias at all. This is about Ada.”

“No,” I nearly shout, but breathe deeply to settle my temper. “It’s about you lying to me. The truth is simple to admit, yet you tangle yourself in the threads of your lies, parading them around as if they were a fancy dress.”

She nods. “So, Ada, yes? You’re in love, but you’ve mistaken it for hate. Now, you don’t know how to take your fancy dress off and show her the real you. Am I close?”

I make an aggressive sound in the back of my throat and storm away from my mother. I can’t talk to her when she’s like this, when I’m like this. It only serves to piss me off, and then I can only think irrationally.

And she knows this.