“What?” Why wouldn’t he answer her already?
“Nothing bad,” Maris said quickly, as if he’d finally realized he was being cruel. “Darling has her enrolled in the same academy his sister attends.”
It took several seconds for that to fully register over the wave of disbelief that crashed through her. “I don’t understand.”
Why would Darling have helped her sister after he sent her here to this hell?
Maris pulled up her sister’s private transcript. “I’ve been wondering who she was and why he cared what happened to her. Der to me, I should have paid attention to the last name. But what can I say? I have great moments of epic stupid like everyone else.” He bit his lip. “No wonder Darling had such a strange reaction.”
“To what?”
“Well, I saw the bill for her tuition a few weeks ago in his office and when I asked him about it, he got highly testy at me and refused to answer. He actually tossed me out of his office and told me to quit snooping through his things. I thought for the merest instant, she might be his mistress or something. I knew it was an odd reaction to something that didn’t require that degree of hostility. But you can see for yourself that she’s in the best classes and has a private tutor three times a week… All paid for by Darling.”
Zarya held his mobile like a lifeline as she saw her sister’s record. Guernelle Academy had been both their dreams as far back as she could remember. It was the same school where their parents had met, and then graduated.
For Zarya, the dream had ended on her eighteenth birthday when her father had been murdered. She’d been forced to leave school before graduation to take over her father’s position in the Resistance. But she’d refused to allow Sorche to join her cause. Unlike her, her sister had stayed in school and kept her grades up.
Two years ago, Sorche had graduated with honors and scored so high on her entrance exams that the academy had actually courted her for admission.
However, the exorbitant cost was prohibitive. Since their father had been branded a traitor and Zarya was currently a wanted outlaw, Sorche wasn’t able to apply for scholarships or grants. Something that had torn Zarya up since she blamed herself for impeding her sister’s dream.
Relentlessly over the last two years, they’d been trying to save up enough for Sorche to attend, but they hadn’t been able to even scrape together the down payment.
Kere…
No, Darling had known that. He’d offered to pay Sorche’s board and tuition on several occasions.
“I don’t mind, Z. I swear it won’t take anything away from me to do this. Please, let me help you.”
Afraid he’d think she was using him for his money, Zarya had refused to accept his offer.
Now…
It didn’t make sense that he would still help out her sister. Especially if he blamed Zarya for what had been done to him.
She handed Maris the mobile. “I was so afraid he’d killed her or sold her off like he did me.”
Maris turned his device off. “Was she part of the Resistance?”
“No. Never. I wouldn’t allow it.”
“Then there’s your answer. She was innocent.”
Like Darling had been. Only her people hadn’t cared about that. They’d hurt him regardless.
Damn them.
“Darling lives his entire life by the Code of Twenty his father taught him. Number nineteen… Love all, regardless of what they do. Trust only those you have to. And harm none until they harm you. He would never punish someone without reason. No matter what, unlike his uncle and even in this insanity that currently has possession of him, he’s always been fair and just.”
And for that, she’d never been more grateful.
Maris tilted his head down and pinned her with a probing stare. “So I’m asking you one last time, Zarya. Will you please, please help me save a good man who is in a really bad place?”
8
Maris spent hours prepping her on what to expect from Darling as they’d traveled to the Winter Palace.
Once they were there, he smuggled her through the servant entrance and into his private suite so that he could meticulously dress her in a long white, sleeveless gown that was trimmed in silver and lace, and apply her makeup. It was sad when a man knew more about being a woman than she did. But she’d never had the money to waste on something as frivolous as vanity, clothes, and cosmetics.
Maris stepped back so that she could see herself in the mirror.
Zarya’s jaw went slack at a face she barely recognized. Her eyelids felt heavy from the eye shadow and mascara, but the color made her amber eyes glow, especially the way he’d ringed her eyes with a thick band of black and swept it out at the sides. Her skin appeared smoother and more radiant than it ever had before. He’d pulled her mahogany hair back from her face to show off her deep widow’s peak, and laced white and silver ribbons through it.
She felt like a mythical princess.