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My blood turns cold as I listen to her fill my father's ears with lies. For a moment, I'm overcome with disgust and rage. How dare she say such things to him about me! My fists clench as my stomach knots sickeningly.
“She must be wed, immediately. Otherwise, things will only take a turn for the worse. She is a distraction to me and my boys, and I won't allow her to go unchecked for another fortnight.”
I push away from the door, breathing hard, before I can do something foolish. More than anything, I want to burst into their room and defend myself, but I know doing so would only cause more trouble.
Still, it takes me longer than I'd like to admit before I can shove the idea from my mind entirely.
Quietly making my way down the hall toward my own room, I make a mental note to speak to Father tomorrow.
First thing, if I can.
He needs to hear what I have to say before she poisons his mind any further toward me.
Confident that I'll be able to sort this mess out in the morning, I close the door to my small, cold room behind me and bar it in place.
Except, by morning, Father is unwell. Too unwell to even make it downstairs to eat.
Merelda is wordless as she hurries about the house, spending most of the morning locked in her private room as strange sounds come from within. It's the first time I've seen her look so worried, and it only adds to my own stress.
Collecting a small plate of food and mug of steaming tea on a tray, I quietly make my way up to Father's bedroom. My nose wrinkles at the horrific sent of steamed herbs that wafts out from beneath the door in heavy waves.
"Where do you think you're going, girl?"
I glance back to find Merelda standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes narrowed on me and hands on her hips.
"I-I just wanted to see him," I answer. "He needs something to eat to keep his strength up."
"No," she says with a shake of her head. "I won't have you fretting about causing him more stress. You'll only make things worse."
"But--"
"Give me that," she orders, stepping toward me to snatch the tray from my hands. "Now, leave him alone to rest."
With that, she sends me off to scrub every inch of the kitchen as well as a half-dozen other chores I'm sure are only meant to keep me out of the house.
At least Amadeus seems to have vanished instead of lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce and make my day worse. Still, the hours drag on as I tend to every chore Merelda has tossed my way, all the while hoping for some good news upon my return.
Dinner is a quiet affair. Father's chair sits empty, and I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from it.
Dipping my spoon into the chicken bone and vegetable soup I'd spent the afternoon preparing, I barely taste anything past my worry.
Merelda is quiet as she sips her second or third glass of wine, and neither Amadeus or Cyprian say a word, the sound of their knives dragging across the plates filling the air.
"Hazel," my stepmother says, shattering the silence between us, "I'd nearly forgotten the surprise I have for your birthday."
It's only now that I remember that today is my birthday. My spirits sink slightly as I glance back at where Father should be sitting, laughing and smiling with us.
After a moment, I realize that Merelda is impatiently awaiting a reply from me as she clears her throat. Stifling a sigh, I turn my attention back to her.
"What sort of surprise?"
A smile pulls at her lips, making my stomach flip as I warily await her answer.
"It's quite the surprise indeed," she says. "I've finally found a suitable match for you. It's high time, too. Gods know you aren't getting any younger. Any longer, and I was beginning to fear your looks would sour before we could marry you off."
She lets out a bitter laugh at this before the room fills with silence again.
I blink twice, sure that I've misheard her. But, from the way her eyes flash in triumph, I know I haven't.
