But that didn’t mean I didn’t wish it could be otherwise.
Lost in my daydreams, I nodded to the guards at the gates to our property and went up the glass and marble mosaic of tiles leading to my home. The golden doors swung open on their oiled hinges, and I closed them softly behind me, not wanting to invite the attention of my father or grandmother if either of them were home.
“Your maid returned some time ago with your artwork, my lady. I had her put everything in your studio.”
I jumped, turning to find Lessa standing next to the base of the grand staircase at the center of the foyer. The King’s bastard half-blood daughter smiled sweetly and curtsied, and as always, the gesture felt like mockery. She was required to wear grey, but her silk dress was elaborate enough to be called a gown, the red sash marking her as the property of our house trimmed with garnets of the same hue. She was the prize jewel of my grandmother’s possessions, and a hundred times more powerful than I. Demanding deference from her verged on absurdity, and we both knew it. “Thank you. Is Ana?s returned?”
Lessa shook her head, the gleam in her eye making me nervous. She bore a strong resemblance to Tristan, but for reasons I could not explain, she reminded me very much of her younger half-brother, the mad Prince Roland. “I’d like a bath before I dress for dinner, if you would,” I said.
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Of course. I’ll arrange for it to be ready after His Grace is finished with you.”
A slick of sweat broke out on my palms. “He wishes to speak to me?”
“He’s waiting for you in the parlor.”
I nodded, straightened my dress, and paused in front of a mirror long enough to wipe away my smeared cosmetics. Then I went in.
My father stood before a large portrait I’d painted of my mother, his back to me. She’d died in a sluag attack, and I sometimes wondered why he bothered to keep the painting, for he’d shown almost no remorse at her passing.
“Father.” I curtseyed deeply, holding the position until he turned.
“Pénélope.” His tone was light, but my skin prickled with the feel of magic fueled by anger, and dread seeped into my heart.
Coming over, he pulled me into an embrace, his chin resting next to my ear. “You were always my better daughter. Sweet. Charming. Obedient. If I could’ve given you all your sister’s attributes and retained your personality, what a magnificent tool you would’ve been. But rarely do power and tractability walk hand in hand.” He squeezed me tighter. Enough that it hurt. “Why did you have to change?”
I couldn’t breathe. Magic clogged my mouth and nose, and I struggled, trying to extract myself from his grip, but he was too strong, my body and magic pinioned. He’d warned me what would happen if I allowed my secret to be exposed, but my fear of punishment had waned over the passing weeks. I’d been a fool to allow it to do so.
“Was it not enough that you ruined your sister’s chances of becoming Queen,” he asked softly. “You had to try to turn the prince against her as well?”
I struggled harder, my fingers clawing ineffectually at the sleeves of his coat. Then, over his shoulder, I saw my grandmother appear at the entrance to the parlor, and relief flooded my heart. She was the only person my father listened to, and I knew she wouldn’t let him hurt me. Not physically. My eyes latched onto hers, pleading silently for help even as my lungs began to burn.
But she did nothing.
Blackness crept over my vision, but not quickly enough to keep me from seeing her take hold of the pair of doors and slowly shut me away.
“You destroyed my plans, Pénélope,” my father whispered into my ear, his voice sounding distant. “Did you not realize there would be a cost?”
My knees buckled, but just before I lost consciousness, the magic cleared from my mouth and nose. I sucked in one desperate breath.
But only one, then the gag returned.
“Even if she couldn’t be Queen, Ana?s was favored by the heir to the throne,” he said. “There is power in such a friendship, but either you were too stupid to realize it or your actions were a malicious attack against this family’s future.”
Another breath. Tears dripped down my face.
“I know what you did.” His fingers dug into my arms hard enough to leave bruises that would last for weeks. “I know you insulted that little Montigny whelp to his face, all but ensuring your expulsion from that little circle of ingrates. Possibly your sister as well.”
My maid. Ana?s and I took pains to keep our servants from eavesdropping, but the girl wouldn’t have needed to hear anything to know what was going on. She must have reported what she’d seen back to him.
“You are a liability,” he hissed. “You are a weak and flawed creature. You are worth nothing in our world.”
I’d been hearing those words all my life, but at least before I’d been protected by the fact that no one outside our family knew my worthlessness. He could dangle me before potential suitors vying for connections to our house and to the girl favored to become Queen, no matter that he never intended to allow me to bond any of them. Now, instead of tempting fruit, I was the poisoned apple everyone was desperate to avoid.
He allowed me no more breaths. Nor would he. What a cruel twist of fate that not an hour after realizing that I might have a chance at a life worth living, my future would be stolen away. Regrets beyond number washed across my mind, and anger chased away the fear in my rapidly beating heart. Lifting up one leg, I slammed the pointed heel of my shoe down against the insole of his foot.
My heel wedged in his shield of magic, but the motion shoved him off balance and he let me go. Except the magic blocking my mouth and nose stayed firmly in place. I tried to tear it off with my hands; tried to wedge my own power underneath it, but doing so only made the bones of my face scream under the pressure. The ground rushed up to meet my knees, then my palms pressed against the carpet. I couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t feel.
“Let her go!”
The magic tore away from my face. Sucking in breath after breath of precious air, I lifted my head from the carpet to see a pair of slender legs clad in snug trousers and boots. Ana?s.
Using the edge of a table to pull myself back onto my feet, I turned to see my father hanging in the air, his arms pinned to his sides. The surprise on his face turned swiftly to anger, and I screamed a warning as a wave of heat surged across the room.
To shatter against a force much greater.