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When she’s finished, she gestures for me to tilt to the side so she can help me out of my dress.
“It was a nice misdirect, you know,” she says once my back is turned, her fingers tugging at the laces of my gown. “The part about Madame not incapacitating you. We both know she can do plenty without lasting damage.”
That’s an understatement.
“Well, you saw how he was practically blubbering over my wellbeing,” I say facetiously. “No need to further concern him. Besides, she really won’t kill me.”
Probably.
Zaina lets out a soft snort of disbelief, but otherwise lets the comment slide. “She’s hardly the only threat. What about Damian?”
I raise an eyebrow, looking at her over my shoulder. “He would never betray her.”
I might be loyal, but Damian is devoted. It’s disturbing, like everything else about him.
“Don’t be so sure,” she says darkly. “It’s not like he never caves to his baser instincts. Why do you think it was so easy for me to lure him into that cave?”
A shudder runs down my spine at how she may have had tolurehim, at all the reasons that might have been easy for her.
She helps me out of the gown, supporting my weight while she shimmies my skirts over my hips, then moves to the corset laces.
“He doesn’t want that from me,” I tell her.
“No,” she agrees. “But he wants you gone. He wants to be the most important thing in the world to Madame, and he will stop at nothing to get it.”
Icy tendrils skate along my spine. She isn’t wrong, and he is one of the few people in the world I am unsure whether I could beat. He’s trained, ruthless, nearly impossible to rile into mistakes, and has the resources of Madame at his disposal.
Zaina’s brow furrows in concern.
“We can still hide you,” she insists. “And in the spring, when the waters are safe, we can get Mel off the island, too.”
A short puff of air escapes me. “You know that isn’t an option anymore. Not for me, at least.”
“Remy’s safety for yours?” Zaina asks it like a question, though we both know it isn’t one.
“Like you wouldn’t do the same for that overgrown grandfather you married,” I point out.
The corners of her lips tilt up. “Einar isn’tthatold. And Jokithans age more slowly. Trust me, he’s just barely out of his tantrum-throwing stage. On a good day.”
I smirk at that mental image, but she sobers quickly, her fingers stilling at my back.
“Is there anything I can do to stop you from going back to her?” she asks in a low, earnest tone.
“Not short of chaining me to this bed, and I’d like to see you try.” I wouldn’t really, considering she could probably overpower me easily, given my current state.
Zaina winces, so subtly I almost miss it, and I turn my head back to face the wall.
“No,” she says. “I would never do that to you. I won’t take this choice from you, as much as I might like to.”
I hear what she isn’t saying. She isn’t only referring to the choice to return to Mother tomorrow night. She means the choice to return to Mother, period.
Zaina won’t force me to choose.
But where will she be if I choose wrong?
I can’t bring myself to ask. Maybe, like Remy, I can’t handle another answer, truth or not. So I say nothing, and she keeps speaking as she finally eases me out of the restrictive corset.
“Just promise me you’ll tell me when you go so I can be nearby.” Her voice is stronger now.
