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Across the room, Lawrence snorts. The sound is swiftly followed by a grunt, which I can only assume is caused by Della shoving her elbow into his ribs.
“I can’t give up on him—Iwon’t.”
“There is nothing anyone can do to stop what she has put in motion.”
“Nothing anyonecando, or nothing anyone iswillingto do?” If Varin hadn’t promised to help me break the curse, would I feel as I do now, or would I believe it as hopeless a cause as they do?
“Do not do this to yourself, Clara… please. Take what time you need to mourn, but do not doom yourself by clinging to the impossible.”
“I will not stop until he is dead, and even then, if I have to wrest him from the Otherworld and bring him back, then I will.”
Cassius leans back, one brow arched as he regards me with suspicion. “What exactly are you planning to do, little bird?”
“Everything,” I whisper. I sigh, then drop back down into the chair. His eyes narrow at the nonanswer, but I am careful to give nothing away.
We are at a standstill, neither willing to concede.
“Haven’t you ever lost someone you loved?” I ask.
Cassius wears a blank mask. After a moment, his answer comes in the barest shake of his head.
I close my eyes and take a breath. It is not the response I expect. There’s no reason for him to lie, and even if he did, there is no doubt in my mind that Della or Lawrence would have spoken up.
“When my mother was claimed, we assumed she had been killed—or would be sooner rather than later. I spent years in the shadow of regret, wishing I told her I loved her more. That we’d had more time together. I thought, if only I had gone with her into town that day, maybe she would still be with us—or that, even though I was a child, maybe there was something,anything,I could have done to prevent her from being claimed….”
Pity softens Cassius’s expression. But that’s not why I’m telling him any of this. This is about doing what I can, so even if I stand no chance of succeeding, even if all I do results in nothing, I will not live the rest of my life regretting that I stood back and let it all happen.
I hold my head high and set my jaw in determination. “Cursed or not, Alaricisstillalive. And so long as he is, I will not stop trying. Even if it amounts to nothing, then I will know I did everything within my power to save him.”
Cassius dips his chin in a deferential bow. Understanding and respecting my decision, even if he might not agree.
The soft rhythmic ticking of the clock counts the space of the silence between us. Della looks uncertainly between me and Cassius.
With all the words spoken in the last hour, I can find no victory nor answers as to what my next move will be. Though I suppose I can find some solace in the fading anger in Lawrence’s expression. Until I have a solid plan in place, there is not much else to say.
“We should let you rest,” Della says as if sensing as much.
“I’m not tired.” The lie slips out before I can stop it—earning the pitying look I get. “I’m not sure I could sleep even if I wanted to,” I amend.
“The dark circles under your eyes disagree,” she says, not unkindly. “You’ve been through a lot recently, and last night….” She trails off, pressing her mouth into a tight line.
There is so much a simple look can convey. Sometimes it can seem louder than any spoken word. Della doesn’t allow me time for further protests. She leads Lawrence from the room with a promise to return later.
The room feels smaller with them gone and silent. I cradle my throbbing head in my hands.
“I will ready a bath for you,” Cassius says after several long moments pass.
When I glance up, I find he has already left the room.
I don’t want to fight with him. That he cares enough to speak his mind means a great deal to me. Especially when he is doing so out of concern for my well-being when so few people ever have.
Kitty loves me, and Father does too, in his own way… but they always pretended away whatever risks I took. They told themselves whatever they had to avoid feeling concerned because what I did benefited them. It seems cold, but I know it didn’t come from a cruel place but one of complacency.
“Little bird?” Cassius’s deep timbre breaks through my thoughts.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I say, standing to face him.
The corners of his mouth tug but don’t quite form a smile. “Neither do I.” He motions to the bathing room. “Bathe, then rest. We can talk more after.”
