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“Here,” she says, raking fingernails through my hair several times. I sit like a child allowing her to repair the damage. “That’s be
tter.”
I’m so thirsty, it’s difficult to speak. “May I have something to drink?”
“Of course. I have coffee and juice…”
“Coffee please.” My head aches from crying and from the scotch. I’m not used to alcohol. When my vision failed, I backed off anything that could impair my ability to be independent. Alcohol is a distinct liability when I’m alone.
Nesbit rattles the cup and saucer, and I hear the metallic stirring of the spoon. If I tried harder, I could make out shadows of her progress around the room, but I don’t want to try. I only want to know my brother is safe. After that…
“Is this her?” An equally angry (if somewhat softer) voice enters the room.
“Yes, your highness,” Nesbit answers.
My skin prickles. A young, female voice and that salutation can only mean one thing.
“You’re the one working with Blix?” She’s speaking to me, and her voice has grown louder, challenging me. “Do you know who I am?”
Since I’m sitting, I can only bow my head. “Your majesty.” My voice breaks. Porcelain touches my fingers.
Nesbit hands me the coffee. “Drink this.”
“Thank you,” I whisper just before taking a sip.
The coffee is comforting and delicious. An undeserved wave of relief moves through my insides. I realize this young queen is standing over me, watching me, and I lower the cup. I don’t know if there’s a table nearby, so I hold the saucer in my hand and wait.
She starts to pace. “Are you aware of what Blix Ratcliffe does to the people he takes?”
“Yes.” My moment of relief is replaced by a cringe of shame.
“You do?” Her voice is different from anger. It’s more… outrage. “You’re aware he tortures his victims? You’re aware he cuts off pieces of their bodies and sends them to their loved ones?”
She gets louder as she speaks, and I cower more. I’m very, very aware of how Blix treats his prisoners—and anyone who crosses him.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, your majesty. I’ve heard what he does.”
“You’ve heard about it?”
A cold knot has settled in the pit of my stomach. Davis’s screams are in my ears. “No, ma’am. I’ve been outside the door. I’ve heard them.”
It’s quiet a moment. The only sound is the soft click of her heels on the wood floor. “Do you know me?”
I’m confused by her question. “I think you’re the queen regent.” I’ve never seen her, but I don’t know who else Nesbit would call your majesty.
“But do you know me? Have we ever met before?”
“N-no… of course not.”
“Of course not.” Her voice is sharp. “Have I ever done anything to you? Have I ever hurt you?”
“No.” I shake my head, keeping my eyes down.
“You don’t know me at all. I’ve never hurt you. Yet you would help this devil, this heartless, soulless bastard… Why? I want to know why.”
I’d thought it was impossible to feel worse than I did last night. My head is pounding, and my bladder takes this opportunity to remind me I haven’t gone to the bathroom since last night.
