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Maybe I could fake my death and she’d always carry gentle, fond memories of me. Yes, I liked that idea. For I couldn’t stomach a reality where she would most certainly learn the truth and see me for what I really was.
She’d hate me.
“Farrow?” she said, reminding me she’d asked a question.
“I, uh, no. No more siblings,” I lied gruffly, not meeting her gaze. Clicking my tongue, I spurred Mint to walk faster. “We should pick up our pace.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I kind of missed the glowing runway the scorpions had made for us these last few days. The journey felt a bit more aimless and a bit more hopeless without them.
Nicolette must’ve realized I needed noise to calm my anxieties, plus a change in subject to steer us away from the t
opic of me. She sidled up next to me and told me stories for the rest of the night.
I learned about her home, and her family, and nearly every aspect of her daily routine. She’d been quite an imp growing up, it seemed; she found herself getting into all kinds of mischief. But at least it seemed as if her family had indulged her for the most part.
“I was so upset when Father wouldn’t let me keep that lizard,” she pouted.
To which I had to shake my head. “You enlarged it to the size of a crocodile, my lady. It probably would’ve eaten you whole with one gulp.”
She let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. But Archie was such a sweet, tranquil creature. I honestly don’t think he would’ve meant to hurt a soul. And it wasn’t his fault that I accidently dribbled some magic potion on him. See, I’ve never been trustworthy around magic, even from a young age.”
All I could do was lift a brow and say, “Archie? You actually named him?”
Nicolette blinked. “Of course I named him. He was my pet.”
“Cats and dogs are pets,” I reasoned.
But she merely sniffed at the suggestion. “But they’re typical, boring pets. I wanted something fascinating and unusual.”
I shook my head, learning that going with the fascinating and unusual was her philosophy on pretty much everything. She always overlooked the traditional, mundane things and was instead drawn to the captivating and macabre.
No wonder why she liked me. I was definitely a disturbing mix of genes. Yet I wondered how fast she’d run if she only knew who both my parents were.
“I guess I can’t tease,” I decided, trying not to feel guilty about tricking her into thinking I was actually good enough to be her soul mate. “When I was nine, I befriended a rat.”
My father had thrown me in the dungeons for a week after my mother had died, when I’d tried to escape the stables to attend her funeral. The only thing to keep me company in my pit of despair was a single rodent who’d tried to steal my meals and chew off my toes while I slept. We’d developed a sort of truce by the end of my stay when I’d compromised enough to give him a portion of my rations.
“Did you?” The princess actually sounded delighted by my confession. A normal girl would’ve been repulsed. “What did you name him?”
“Rat,” I said flatly. “On good days, I called him filthy rat.”
She laughed. “And whatever happened to him?”
I shrugged. “I left him behind when I was released.”
“Released?” she echoed in confusion.
I nodded, my mind already wondering if Sable had a rat keeping her company now. “Hopefully the next inmate to share his cell treated him with the same respect I had, or they no doubt lost a couple toes.”
“Wait, you were imprisoned?” Nicolette realized suddenly. “At age nine?”
I sent her a sharp glance.
Sniffing in outrage, she demanded, “Who in their right mind would throw a child behind bars?”
I didn’t answer. She wouldn’t understand. In her world, only the bad were locked away. Thieves, murderers, molesters. She knew nothing of kings who sent their own children to the dungeon just because the mood struck.
Her innocence was such a pure, unadulterated thing. I found myself wanting to preserve it.
