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Ingret shoves past him through the doorway, shooing him out of the room.
“Guess she’s already here. I’ll leave you guys to it,” he mutters, finally showing me his usual smile.
She holds a black silk dress and places it against my body. “Perfect. Change into this.”
I smile and take the dress from her. It is perfect. It shimmers, but it’s subtle.
“I don’t want you to overthink tonight,” she sighs, looking through the jewelry on my dresser.
“I don’t want to either, but all they do is argue, and I hate it.”
She ignores me and ransacks my closet for shoes as if I’m not capable of picking them out myself.
“Why am I dressing differently tonight?” I ask her. Our dinners are always formal, but neverthisformal.
“He has men coming tonight. Not the ones who just left, but others.”
“And he’s letting me downstairs?” My stomach twists with nerves. He never lets me see anyone from outside the family.What changed?
“I was thinking the same thing.” She shrugs and holds out some gold jewelry for me to take, placing the heels on the floor.
I change into the dress and everything else she picked out for me.
While I may not be allowed to see anyone besides family, Dad has taught me a lot. I’ll never forget something he told me when I was in my mid-teens: “Similar to the phrase ‘poison is a woman’s weapon,’ words are a woman’s venom.”
Throughyearsof experimenting, I’ve found Ruslan hates my sarcasm and Alek hates when I talk about how great Ruslan is. As if he’s competing to be better than his brother. As fucked up as it is, I do it anyway. Brothers are ruthless sometimes, and I refuse to let them walk all over me.
I blame Ruslan for all my snarky remarks. If he’d acted like they didn’t bother him, I’d stop completely. But I feel it’s my duty as his sister to be a royal pain in his ass. Plus, I will always welcome a good laugh with open arms.
Ingret has always been my favorite person in this house. I’ll never admit it to her, but she is. She’s been a part of this family for as long as I can remember. She’s my father’s age, mid-fifties. I’m honestly shocked they never formed a romantic connection.
I know my dad will never move on from my mother, but he has to try. Despair drags me down when I see how closed-off he is. I’m sure there’s a woman out there for him who would be able to heal the cracks in his heart. Maybe then he’d stop keeping me locked up in this house like Rapunzel. The time will come eventually—I’m just waiting for it. I’ve been waiting for two years.
Dad rarely talks about my mother, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. If he can’t even bring himself to speak about her, perhaps she should be forgotten altogether. Why live with numbness infusing your body when there are so many wonderful things life has to offer?
As if I’d know about the wonders of the world.I roll my eyes at the thought. I’ll never be allowed to leave this house. I crave adventure more and more as the days pass by, and there is nothing I can do besides crush my own dreams.
Ingret’s curly blonde hair sways over her shoulders with each step she takes. “There is a lot you don’t know, but you need to keep it that way.” Her emerald eyes are coated in worry.
“I know.” Another lie. I don’t want to keep it that way; I want to know everything. I don’t hold my ear against the door for hours on end for fun.
“I will be there with you, and if things get too much, you can leave, and I will keep your father under control.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, you’re the only one who can do that.”
Her hands find her curvy hips and she does a short, quirky dance. “I know.” She laughs. “Don’t you ever tell him I said that!” She makes a fist and punches my arm softly. “Now go.”
I leave my room and sneak down the long hallway, peeking my head around the corner into the formal dining room. Light blue panels with white trim line the walls. The table is centered in the middle of the room with a chandelier hanging above it.
It’s strange to see other people sitting at our table. Sitting in the room I’ve seen once a week for my entire life. The room I know like the back of my hand, yet I know nothing about the people in it.
“Sloane, come take a seat,” Dad says as if he can see through the walls.
I clear my throat and enter the room. There’s a seat right by my brother, Alek, that I slowly walk toward.
The walls start to close in as I feel my anxiety getting the better of me. I sit down in the chair in front of the window. The seals are aged, allowing the warm breeze to drift past me.
The strange men sit across from me. I try to get a good look at them, but I force my eyes down when I see the man sitting in the middle staring at me as if I’m a mirror showing his reflection.
