His free arm flops across his eyes, blocking out the light from the east-facing window.
I stare at him in shock, not seeing much more than his slightly parted lips and stubborn jaw. After a while, his breathing slows.
I watch him, not at all sleepy, a niggling sense of unease overtaking pleasure. I’m completely aware of the fact that he just distracted me with amazing sex, and I let him. His focused blast of activity on his sisters’ behalf over the last few days, his ability to find a smile here and there, especially for me, and very intense lovemaking are only masking the truth.
Griffin isn’t getting past what Piers tried to do to us, to me, to him. If there’s one thing that proves it, it’s that he’s not the one pushing us to get out of bed today—or any day at all.
*
I leave Griffin asleep in our room and make my way down to breakfast, only to find that breakfast is over, and there’s no food. In fact, the dining room is completely empty. My stomach rumbling, I poke around the still largely unfamiliar palace, walking the dim, torch-lined corridors down a level toward where the main kitchen should logically be. I quickly get lost in the labyrinthine underbelly of Castle Tarva and have to ask servants for the right way not once, not twice, but three times.
Stupid sense of direction. I wish I had one.
Thinking I finally smell food, or something, I find myself foiled again when I pull up short in the doorway of the cavernous kitchen. In the middle of the room, Flynn is leaning toward Jocasta, his massive hands braced on the solid wooden worktable between them. Loose and wild as usual, his auburn hair reflects the light from the fire blazing in the hearth. Across from him, Jocasta is tipped forward as well, her hands wrist-deep in some kind of stewed herbs from the smell of it. They’re glaring at each other.
“You think I can’t handle the responsibility?” She pulls a handful of dark, limp leaves from her bowl and starts vigorously ripping them up.
“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth, Jo.”
“Then say what you mean.” Even from the shadows of the hallway, I see her blue eyes flash and her expression tighten with a mixture of annoyance and frustration.
Flynn pushes off from the table with a scowl. “I’m saying you don’t have to do everything alone. Find an advisor you trust.”
“How should I know who to trust?”
“Ask Cat to meet people with you. She’ll know who’s lying, and what their intentions are.”
Jocasta shakes bits of damp herbs from her fingers, flicking them back into the bowl. When most of her concoction is where it should be again, she picks up an already stained cloth from the table and then wipes her hands clean. “Cat’s leaving today.”
“And that terrifies you.”
Jocasta’s head snaps back up, sending a blue-black curl swinging against her jaw. Flynn makes a hesitant, almost imperceptible move toward it, but before his intention can become clear, Jocasta impatiently shoves the loose lock behind her ear. “Why do you say that?”
His hand drops, curling into a slack fist. “Because everyone relies on Cat. When she’s around, we all have this ridiculous sense of security, like no matter what’s happening, or who’s swinging a sword, or throwing fire, or whatever terrifying person or creature is coming at us, she’ll fix it. She always does.”
Oh. My stomach crashes to my feet. For once, I’m pretty sure the queasiness isn’t due to Little Bean.
Is that how everyone sees me? Is that what I am to them? What they expect?
Then it hits me—again. Of course it is. I’m Elpis. Unbreakable. Unshakable. Possibly going to vomit…
I breathe again, forcing steeliness on myself like a warrior donning armor. But it’s an act, a disguise. Inadequacy haunts me like a completely justified ghost.
“Kaia and I will muddle through” is Jocasta’s only response.
“You don’t have to ‘muddle through,’” Flynn says. “Ask them to stay a few more days, and get yourselves some people to help you. People you can trust.”
“If Griffin and Cat thought we needed help, they would have suggested it. They obviously have more confidence in me than you do.”
Flynn’s jaw hardens. “You’re putting words in my mouth again.”
“Am I?” Jocasta smiles vaguely and without humor. “I guess you talk to me so little, I’ve started to invent.”
Flynn freezes, staring at her. Emotional conflict makes him shut down completely. With Jocasta, anyway. He’ll get into a roaring good fight with me.
“Cat and Griffin—they listen to people. Take advice,” he finally says in a low, almost toneless voice. “Cat was Griffin’s advisor at first. In a way, she still is.”
If you ask me, Griffin’s the sage one, but Jocasta eventually nods, conceding the point. “I’ll think about it,” she says.
“Thank you.” Flynn seems to relax. “Get yourself a guard as well,” he adds.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I could take care of you better,” he mutters irritably.
Jocasta grips the edge of the table like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. Or like she might heave the whole thing up and over in a fit of rage. One or the other. I can’t tell. When Flynn realizes what he just said, or rather how it could be taken, he pales until his shock of bright-red hair is his only color.
“I mean…” He clears his throat, looking up, around, anywhere but at her. “I mean you’d be twice as safe with a warrior guarding you. Me. Or someone else.”
Jocasta slowly uncurls her fingers from the table. “Someone else?”
Flynn frowns. “I’m leaving today. I won’t be here. You fought well in the arena, but we were all there. That doesn’t mean you’re ready for this.” He waves his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. “Everyday danger? The insidious kind? It doesn’t always come at you with a sword and a snarl. You might not see it coming.”
That vague smile is back on Jocasta’s lips, the one that speaks of utter disappointment. “So that’s what you want? Some man following me around day and night? Sleeping outside my bedroom door? Taking walks with me? Guarding me in the bathhouse?”
Flynn doesn’t answer. He’s too busy grinding his molars to dust.
“Well, I won’t do it,” Jocasta says. “I’m in a fortified castle and don’t plan on leaving it. There are plenty of guards, high walls, and beyond them, there’s a constant, swelling crowd that seems to genuinely love us. I’m not in any danger.”
Flynn scoffs. “There’s always danger. And it’s most dangerous when you don’t expect it. You can’t let your guard down, Jo, especially while we’re away.”
Jocasta pushes the soggy, herb-soaked cloth farther down the table, wiping up a spill. When there’s nothing left to keep her busy, she finally looks up at Flynn.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” She shifts from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. “I certainly do.”
Flynn leans in, his hands braced on the table again. Their eyes meet. “You do?”