The House of the Stone

“Please!” I scream, as Annabelle stumbles back, almost losing her balance. “Don’t hurt her!”


“Oh, I have no wish to hurt her, Violet. This is your fault. Her pain ends when you tell me the truth.”

My wrists are raw, the rope cutting into my skin as I struggle against it. Suddenly, the Duchess is inches away from me, my face clutched in her iron grasp, her fingernails biting into the bruise on my cheek. “How long have you been sleeping with him?”

I try to answer her, but I can’t open my mouth. The Duchess releases me.

“How long?” she says again.

“One time,” I gasp. “It was just one time.”

“When?”

“The night before,” I say, panting. “Before the second time that the doctor tried . . .”

The Duchess glares at me, seething with rage. “Have you been intentionally destroying these pregnancies?”

I can feel the blankness on my face. “I—no. How would I even do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Violet. You’re clearly such a resourceful girl. I’m sure you could find a way.”

“No,” I say.

The Duchess’s hand slams into Annabelle’s face again.

“Please,” I beg. “I’m telling you the truth.”

One of Annabelle’s shoulders is hunched up as if to try to cradle her swollen cheek. Our eyes meet and all I see is fear. Confusion. Her eyebrows knit together and I know she’s trying to ask me something but I can’t figure out exactly what.

“Here is my dilemma, Violet,” the Duchess says, pacing back and forth in front of me. “You are a very valuable asset. As much as I might want to kill you for what you’ve done, it wouldn’t be a very good business practice. Obviously, your life in this palace will be different from now on. No more balls, no more cello, no more . . . well, anything, I suppose. If I have to, I’ll keep you tied to the medical bed for the duration of your stay. I’ve sent an emergency petition to the Exetor for the companion’s execution, so he should be dead in an hour or so. That will serve as some punishment. But is it enough, I ask myself?”

I try to swallow the whimper that climbs up my throat, but the Duchess hears it and smiles.

“Such a waste, really—he is so very handsome. And quite skilled, from what I’ve heard. The Lady of the Stream raved about him at Garnet’s engagement party. Pity I didn’t get the chance to sample his talents myself.”

A cold, slippery feeling squirms around inside me. The Duchess’s smile widens. “Please, tell me,” she continues, “what exactly did you think would happen with him? That you two would ride off into the sunset together? Do you know how many women he’s slept with? It’s disgusting. I would have thought you’d have better taste. If you’re going to get all love-struck in this palace, why not choose Garnet? His manners might be atrocious, but he’s good-looking enough. And he comes from an excellent bloodline.”

At this, I can’t help choking out a raspy, bitter laugh. “His bloodline? Do you honestly think that matters to anyone in this city besides the royalty? You people wouldn’t even need surrogates if you didn’t care so much about stupid bloodlines!”

The Duchess waits patiently for me to finish. “I would think you would choose your words more carefully,” she says. This time when she hits Annabelle, the skin breaks open below her right eye. Tears stream down Annabelle’s cheek.

“I need you to understand,” the Duchess says. “You are mine. The doctor will not stop until my baby is growing inside you. I will no longer have any consideration for your pain, or discomfort, or frame of mind. You will be like a piece of furniture to me. Is that clear?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I say. “But please don’t hit her anymore.”

The Duchess becomes very still. Her expression softens, and she sighs. “All right,” she says.