“I need clothes.”
“You have some,” Anne said, clearly upset she was being ignored.
“I’m not wearing those rags in that hole you expect me to stay in. If I’m going to be here for a while, then I want my own clothes. And speaking of my room, I demand a new one.”
My grandfather remained expressionless, but Anne’s eyes grew wide and her nostrils flared as she sucked in air. “You will have no such thing!”
My grandfather raised his hand, silencing Anne. “Another room is not necessary. You will not be here long enough to warrant that, but you may have better attire. Anne, fetch her a new and much nicer dress.”
Anne looked down at him her mouth open and eyes narrow slits; her drink spilled over its glass edge. “But father—”
“Do it. Now leave us before you pass out drunk.”
Her ivory face turned a deep scarlet but she obeyed.
“Sit down, Eve,” he said after Anne left.
“I prefer to stand.”
“I said sit,” he repeated. A chair from across the room magically slid behind me, knocking against my legs. Startled, I sat down.
He spoke, a loud deep voice: “I appreciate your boldness, but do not forget who you are speaking to. I will not be trifled with.”
I clenched my fists and tried hard to keep my voice even. “You take me, unwillingly, from all that I know and then demand my respect?”
“I expect no less from anyone else. Why do you think you should be any different?” He reached inside a drawer and pulled out a pipe.
“I respect those who have earned it.”
His stare turned deadly. At the same time, my throat constricted as if I were being choked. I coughed a few times, trying to get air into my lungs.
“Then let me earn it,” my grandfather said in a calm voice. He lit his pipe and inhaled deeply. He watched as I struggled to remove the invisible grip from around my neck. Stars burst into my mind in sprays of blues and purples.
“Do you respect me now?” he asked.
I was barely conscience enough to nod my head. The grip from my neck relaxed, and I sucked in as much air as my lungs could handle.
“I’m sure Anne told you why we brought you here,” he began.
I nodded again, weakly.
“I need an heir. You were never an option before, but I’ve been informed otherwise, thanks to Boaz.”
“Boaz has nothing to do with this.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” he said, puffing a wide ring of smoke.
In the corner of the room, a shadow shifted. Boaz or a trick of the light? I continued to stare, but nothing moved again.
“I have staged a simple test for my granddaughters,” he said. “Whoever wins, their family will inherit all that I have.”
“And when the test is over?”
“You will be free to leave.” Smoke spilled from his mouth.
“When do we begin?”
“Tonight.”
Good. The sooner the better. Just sitting near the old man unnerved me. No wonder my parents were always at odds after visiting him. It was like being near a hungry tiger with amazing self-control—you could see the aggression in his eyes, but he remained as still as a boulder. I left my grandfather to his pipe and thoughts and found Anne standing just outside of my room with a full glass of wine.
“What did he say?” she asked and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.
I walked past her into the room. “He said the twins are going to lose, and I’m going to win.”
Chapter 17
After showering, I returned to my room to find a stylish red dress lying on the bed. It had a blood-red sash around its waist and was made from the same silky material as my other dresses. I quickly pulled it on, feeling somewhat better.
A knock at my door startled me. I said nothing, but moved to the window seat, warm sunlight spilling in through the glass, and sat down to wait for whomever it was to simply come in. They did just that. Helen walked in first followed by Harriet.
“Do you two do everything together?” I asked.
“Two is better than one,” Helen said.
“Much better,” agreed Harriet. They stood next to each other, shoulders touching.
“Do you two date much?” I asked.
Simultaneously, a smile spread across their faces.
“We have had our fun,” Helen said.
“Boaz was wonderful,” said Harriet.
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? And what exactly did you do with Boaz?”
They looked at each other conspiratorially. Helen giggled. “Only the birds know.”
“And the worms.” Harriet giggled harder.
Realizing this was not a conversation I wanted to have, I asked, “Did you two like growing up here?”
“We didn’t grow up here.”
“Our home was in Burlington.”
“Why did you move here?” I asked.
“There was a fire.”
“It destroyed everything.”
“What caused it?”
Both of them flinched as if someone had just shoved lemons into their mouths.
“Magic,” they said together.
“Whose magic?”
“It was an accident,” Helen said.