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Chapter41
Lastimarme Como Siempre
Dresses and suits were scattered all around my room and sad songs were playing on the gramophone I’d stolen a month ago. The costurera had sent me no less than twenty-three options for the upcoming Candidates Ball and Winter Solstice Celebrations. I would be there for seven days, and I was expected to wear three outfits per day.
Most of the outfits had been placed around the room by Isolda because I had made the mistake of voicing my opinion that one poofy, lacy, golden dress was the same as the next. However, she refused to make the final assignments for each day and party, stating that they were my dresses, and my responsibility.
I didn’t have the energy to plan quite yet, even though we would be leaving in a few scant hours. My mind could only think of three things: the fight with Martina de León, the most recent Withering outbreak in the Naranja Quarter, and something—someone—else I should never think about. I was perched on my bed, elbows resting atop my bent knees, while I stared at the messages on my docufone.
Renata, please write back to me.
Forgive my mother. She’s very protective.
Eye roll.
You’ve tormented me, mind and heart. I wish you would just say something.
Be angry with me all you wish, but please put me out of my misery. Will you be mine or not?
My knuckles had gone white from gripping the gilded contraption. I bit the inside of my cheek and stewed in my emotions. Isaac had tried to speak to me every day since dinner two weeks ago.
He hasn’t been successful.
A part of me missed him. Or maybe I missed kisses and closeness? But he was supposed to marry someone else. How could he be my future when his was already carefully planned?
My head throbbed with tears that I had left unshed, and feelings I denied myself from exploring. Distress felt like a brand across my forehead. If only I could talk to someone else about everything that was happening.
Isolda was the only other woman in this enormous mansion. I understood why that was, but I also knew that I couldn’t trust her. Antonio flashed across my mind for a second, but I dismissed my thoughts immediately after.
Antonio was untouchable. Matches should come from my group of competitors, and I was positive a competitor having a public romantic relationship with her mentor would be grotesque.
I felt Magda’s absence like a stake shoved straight through my chest. The docufone hit the bed under me as my chin hit my chest and desperate reeling made me feel like a person living a half-life.
Isaac’s mother hated me. Sure, now he wanted to be with me, but he didn’t even know me. Isaac Monroy de León would never understand where I had come from, and what I had overcome to make it in this life. But it didn’t really matter. No husband I would acquire would know who I truly was. Endless scenarios played out in my head, but no matter how much I was starting to enjoy picturing myself as a bride, I knew I wouldn’t be able to be in the same room as Martina ever again.
Antonio’s words from earlier shimmered through my thoughts.
Don’t get angry, get revenge.
It reminded me so acutely of the whispered words from my earliest years. Music wound around me, but it didn’t bring me to my feet.
You do not give up.
These two sentences held so much weight in my soul, and I liked how heaviness felt. It grounded me, kept me from straying or slipping.
Digging my knees into the bed as I stood up, I walked back over to the hordes of dressing and started sifting. The ball was in one week, and then it would be the mad dash countdown to the Tournaments themselves. They would take place on the first day of the new year, straight in the middle of winter.
My head pounded as I threw dresses on the floor, coating the enormous floor. I cried out in frustration under the weight of the gowns as they piled high.
I hated this.
Kicking furiously at the heavy fabric, I growled like an animal.
A knock sounded at my door and I froze.
Isolda told me she wouldn’t come back until it was lunchtime. Had I wasted so much time staring at those messages from Isaac?
“Come in,” I called out. I knew she could hear me from the other side of the door, but there was a hesitant moment that passed before the doorknob slowly turned. It was that odd, too-slow moment that had my senses barking at me.
