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“I trust you slept well, my Lady?” Anton hissed. Ludovicus’ stare was almost painful, the heat once again like coals on my skin.
“Yes, good Sir,” I said, dutifully bowing my head.
Eerie silence pushed in on me, the velvet suffocating. “Pray tell, what do you know about today’s interview?” rasped Arturius.
“Nothing, Sir. Nothing has been disclosed to me.”
“Ah, good answer,” he purred back.
“When is your birthday, Petra?” Raolin asked.
“One month after the first full moon of autumn.” My voice stayed surprisingly level.
“And how old are you?” he continued.
“Twenty-four, Sir.”
Each mouth curled into a wicked smile. “So you were born on the Night of the Holy Stone of Blood Saints?” Balthazar said, his voice disconcertingly low and smooth as he referenced the day that came only once every three hundred years. I nodded to the men. Sideways glances darted between the men. The only stare that stayed constant, that stayed on me, belonged to Ludovicus. “And in Inkwell, nonetheless.”
“Now tell me, how does a grimy peasant from Inkwell find herself living in the castle?” Higgins all but growled. His chin was propped up on a fist, his voice more gravelly than the others but still underlined with the same otherworldly hiss. I didn’t let the words sting. I wouldn’t. They knew this story well, had detested the idea of a peasant in the castle since the beginning.
“Well, my good Sirs of the Board, my mother remarried after my father passed. Lord Castemont has been very kind and allowed me to move into their castle residence with them.”
“My condolences,” Raolin cut in, lowering his head momentarily. “And may I ask, how did your father pass?”
Fucking bastard. They already knew. “A tragic fall, Sir,” I said quietly but firmly, looking each of them in the eyes. I wouldn’t let them see the uncertainty in my eyes.
“Suicide? How awful,” Balthazar said, long-nailed fingers covering his mouth.
“Not suicide, Sir,” I cut in. It wasn’t suicide. But it hadn’t been a fall either.
“It’s a shame he won’t rest with the Benevolent Saints. Suicide is a sin, after all,” Raolin added, disregarding what I had said. “A shame he will be separated from your sister for eternity. I’m sure he’s being pulled apart limb by limb by the Blood Saints now.” The others murmured in agreement.
My jaw clenched so hard I thought my molars would shatter. The seven sets of eyes bore into my soul, once again stripping me bare, looking for any weakness, any foothold they could gain on me. Should I just take it? Should I correct them? “Yes,” I said, just barely loosening my jaw enough so the words didn’t sound strained. “A shame.”
Sothiswas what the interview was for. They wanted to see me break. They wanted me to crack, see if I’d crumble under the ghosts of everyone I’ve loved.
I wouldn’t.
“And your sister,” started Ludovicus. I knew he had been waiting to plunge that dagger into my heart, to be the one to make me bleed. “How did she perish?”
My eyes stayed locked on his, and I swore that in his eyes I saw the smoke billowing from the Eddenian ship, flaming bits of lapis canvas floating to the ground like feathers on the wind. “My sister…” I started, swallowing hard, straightening in the chair as it threatened to swallow me. “My sister passed away in an accident at the Cindregala celebration in Eserene four years ago.” I quickly built walls in my mind, hiding the most painful parts of that day, reinforcing my level facade. “She died trying to save a rowboat full of sailors after their ship went up in flames.”
“Oh! A horrible tragedy,” Ludovicus said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How valiant of her. And did you try to save her?”
The burning fury bubbled violently behind my ribs at the question that I knew he had been working toward. For a moment, I let the steam climb up the back of my throat like smoke from a volcano threatening to erupt. I remembered a cold day on the waterfront with Elin, when she told me the truth everyone already knew. My face remained neutral as I had practiced with Marita, though I had no idea I would be faced with this.They willnotwin.
“I was too far away. By the time I got to her, the ship hit the seawall and the explosion blew me back.” I knew it wasn’t the whole truth, but I knew that if I told the whole truth I would implode in a tornado of vitriol and guilt. They’d probably toss me into the Onyx Pass before Initiation even started.
Ludovicus tapped a long fingernail against his chin. “That is a lie.” The words hit like a hot brand on my chest. I didn’t try to keep my face calm and neutral. My mouth opened, then closed as I realized the firestorm I was about to unleash. Maybethiswas the firestorm the soothsayer warned me of.
No. The guilt was a blade, mine to bear, but it would not be a weapon used to end my life. If what Ingra said was true, I would end up in the Onyx Pass at some point. I may as well try to exercisesomecontrol over when. Ludovicus watched as the emotions washed over my face, his eyebrows raised, observing. I stayed silent. “We have been told that youwerein fact close enough to assist your sweet sister in her heroic act.”
They’d beentold?“That is interesting,” I worked out, breathing no life into the guilt that coated every one of my bones, carrying on like this was a normal conversation. “You seem to have been told wrong.” Someone had been watching me?
“Do you doubt the word of the Board of Blood?” snapped Garit, a thin brow cocking.
“Of course not, good Sirs,” I quickly answered. “If I could have saved my sister that day, I would have. Unfortunately, I was too far away at the time.” I would deal with the guilt later.
