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“I censored more of it than you know,” said Cael. “I had to keep enough in to please Brennin.”
“Perfectly fair,” said my father. “So, tonight was a success, I take it?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I waited for Cael to answer.
He reclined on the sofa across from us, fidgeting with a golden quill that looked like something he’d gotten from the Academy. His back rested against one arm of the sofa and his legs took up the length of it. I wished I could be as comfortable anywhere as he managed to be.
“Ultimately, yes,” said Cael. “I’d been keeping an eye close by, so I was the first to find Pearce. I was able to clean up the sloppy evidence before anyone else arrived to keep it from looking like a murder. You’re welcome.”
“But . . . he was dead?” I asked. My heart pounded so loudly that I was afraid it would betray me. “You’re sure he wasn’t only paralyzed?”
“Quite. That vial contained enough poison to kill ten men.”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to admit he’d only had a sip of the poisoned brandy, but then again . . . I realized with dread that I’d put the glass on the floor. Maybe Pearce managed to drink moreof it before full paralysis kicked in. “Did you happen to see the brandy glass?”
Cael raised an eyebrow. “Yes, as I said, you carelessly left behind evidence. Fortunately, I cleaned up the empty glass beside him.”
Empty glass. So Pearce must’ve found the strength to finish the poisoned brandy after we’d left him. My stomach got even queasier as I tried to process the reality that I’d now killedtwopeople.
“Excellent,” said my father. “We should’ve thought of this before the whole fiasco of abducting Graham Brennin. Poison is so much cleaner.”
I looked at him, disgusted.
“Don’t look at me like that,” said my father. “The boy is intent on destroying us. If Cael hadn’t spirited me away to this place, I’d be in prison!”
“I didn’t say anything,” I said.
“But I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I always know what you’re thinking.”
I clenched my teeth and looked at the ground, trying to hide my anger. He didn’t have a clue what I thought.
“See,” he said. “Now you’re thinking I don’t know you, but I do, Mara. I’m your father. I raised you. I know you better than you know yourself.”
I kept my face neutral, but my fury was rising. “Then why didn’t you realize how miserable I was after I’d betrayed Graham? Why didn’t you know I was planning to go save him?”
“Because, frankly, that was unprecedented.” My father sat up straighter, his intimidating frame leaning over his armchair toward me. “You had the throne! The fact that I didn’t see it coming only speaks to your foolishness in abandoning it. No one would do that!”
Cael sat there listening with a smug smile on his face.
“You made me believe you’d been murdered!” My father growled, his voice getting even angrier. “How dare you! And by the way, your mother’s bedspread will forever be stained, thanks to you. No amount of scrubbing can remove that much blood from silk.
I slumped in my armchair, wishing I’d kept my questions to myself. It wasn’t worth asking them when there was no way he’d be willing to believe he was wrong. I was the one who should be angry. I was the one who should be confronting him after the way he’d used me. I still hadn’t gotten my chance to say what I wanted to say.
“You threw away years of work and planning,” my father continued. “So many opportunities missed so we could keep you unrecognizable, and now you’re forced to wear this flowery disgrace!” He gestured toward my wig and clothing.
I reached a hand up to the wig and pulled it off, knowing the only thing he’d hate even more was my actual hair.
His mouth fell open. “You look bleedin’ awful!”
I stared back at him, knowing I looked perfectly ridiculous with my face caked in makeup and a man’s haircut, but I wasn’t in the mood to make him happy. I set the elaborate wig decorated with flowers on the tea table in front of me. “Well, if you hadn’t invented a lie about a nonexistent war, I would still have hair!”
“Oh, come now, Mara. An uprising was, and still is, a very high possibility, and you?—”
I stood up. “Don’t lie to me again. I’m done listening to you.”
He settled back into his armchair, his lips relaxing into a smile. “We wanted each other safe, more than anything. Perhaps it’s time to let go of our grievances and be grateful we’re together again.”
“I need some sleep,” I said, too exhausted to fight, though I was far from letting go of my grievances. I wanted to be alone,but then I remembered I didn’t know where to go. There were four doors, after all.
