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“Sloane.” A bucket clunked to the ground behind her. “Sloane. What happened? What happened?”
Shaking. Her shoulder was shaking.
She looked at it, her head moving slow, so slow it was as if the world had stopped.
Vicky.
Vicky terrified.
Vicky on her knees and shaking her. Shaking her shoulder.
“Sloane—what is it? What has happened? Tell me—tell me and I will go get Uncle Reiner. He will help—he will help with whatever just happened.”
Sloane clamped a hand onto Vicky’s wrist, her words fighting through the boulders of memories lodging into her brain. “No—no. Not Reiner.”
Her fingers tightened around Vicky’s wrist until the girl squealed and tried to yank her arm away.
Sloane’s fingers flew wide. She didn’t mean to hurt Vicky. Didn’t mean to send such terror into her eyes.
Her head fell forward as she drew her knees upward. For a long moment, she curled into herself, closing her eyes and drawing several deep breaths.
“Sloane?”
Her head snapped up and she found Vicky’s wide eyes. “I’m sorry, Vicky. I didn’t mean to scare you. It is nothing. I stumbled backward and landed on my tailbone and it took my breath away. I am fine now. My breathing has recovered.”
The furrow across Vicky’s brow stayed in place. “You are positive you are well?”
“I am. I am sorry I frightened you.” Sloane glanced over her shoulder. The metal bucket of raspberries lay on its side, squashed red juices of the berries spilling onto the grass. “Oh, no. Not the berries.”
Vicky scooted across the ground to scoop up the salvageable berries into the bucket.
Sloane pushed herself onto her quivering legs. “I do feel as though I should go inside and rest, though, probably lie down in my room.”
Vicky nodded and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. Leave it to the sweet child to try and comfort her. “I can still fetch Uncle Reiner if it will make you feel better?”
“No. A few minutes of rest and I will be well. I am sure of it.” Averting her gaze from the vines, Sloane started walking toward the far corner of the castle.
Within minutes she was in her room, alone after sending Vicky to work on her lessons with Miss Gregory.
She clicked the door closed, her legs stiff as she walked to the bed and sat down on the edge.
Her right hand shaking, she reached to her left elbow and slipped her forefinger under the top edge of her glove.
Peeling down the kidskin, she lifted her mangled bare skin to the daylight.
For long seconds she stared at the twisted, ravaged skin that had once been smooth.
Her eyes had to flip away. Even now she couldn’t bear to look at it.
So she set her eyes on her dagger atop the chest across the room. Stared at it for minutes where she let all she’d just remembered sink fully into her consciousness.
Bloody hell. Not Reiner.
Her heart thudded in her ribcage, an invisible vise clamping down about her chest.
Not Reiner. Not him.
Not when she had begun to believe he wasn’t the devil himself—not when she had damn well started to like the man.
