Page 116 of A Game of Veils

My mouth tastes bitter, but I lower my eyes as if ashamed. “That could be so. We have tended to live fairly simple lives.”

“I’ve been glad to see you’re not so simple-minded,” Marclinus remarks with another spin of his dagger. “That father of yours—we left him in charge of a straightforward bridge-building project, and he managed to ruin it in a matter of weeks. Not the brightest of kings, is he?”

I can’t stop my teeth from setting on edge. The bridge in question was far from straightforward—I remember Father venting to Mother about the ridiculousness of the Darium representatives’ demands, with no consideration for the practicalities of our landscape.

The project failed because of their own idiocy. Or perhaps they wanted it to fail so they could hold the fact over our heads for some other purpose.

And if I suggest as much, it might be the last thing I say before Marclinus’s blade slashes through my flesh.

I hope I’ve smoothed enough of the strain out of my words for my audience to miss it. “He has never been called brilliant.”

The imperial heir guffaws, and a ripple of laughter passes through the gathered nobles. I reach toward my inner calm.

The cool, still space in the center of me no longer feels quite so serene. I’m tarnishing the memories of the majestic forests and cozy hearths with every slight my hosts force me to agree with.

Will they not be satisfied until they’ve torn apart every bit of who I am?

The answer comes to me as instinctively as breathing.

No, they won’t. What are the trials for if not to break us down until nothing remains but our dedication to serving the empire and its rulers?

But it does no one any good if I die for honesty, even if I’m dying inside at the lies.

After a couple more taunting remarks about my homeland, Marclinus appears to bore of the game and saunters away with Bianca hanging on to one arm and a marchionissa I don’t know on the other. Emperor Tarquin lingers for a moment as if he’s searching for the thoughts I’m hiding behind my carefully tranquil expression.

“One who knows her place will always find a good fit,” he says.

He walks off in the opposite direction, leaving me wondering whether that was a compliment or a warning.

Behind my placid mask, my spirit has frayed. I exchange a few more nods and smiles and a warm greeting with one of the baronissas who strolled with me yesterday, but every gesture and word feels more brittle than the last.

I can’t afford to snap. Not when I’m so close to my goal.

As soon as I’m sure my departure won’t appear to be caused by the conversation about Accasy, I take my leave. To my relief, I find my bedroom empty. I’ve always told both Melisse and Rochelle that there’s no need for them to attend to me between breakfast and lunch.

I flop down on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut against the burn of threatening tears.

I’m stronger than this. I know my purpose. I’ve already endured so much worse.

Yet every incident I’ve faced here has chipped away at my foundations before I’ve had time to re-fortify them, like Fausta bashing my not-quite-healed leg yesterday.

How much longer can I go on before the resolve that keeps me steady starts to disintegrate beneath me?

I’ve only taken a few deep breaths when a knock thumps against the door. My heart leaps and plummets with dread.

What now?

I force myself to get up and walk closer so my wary voice will be heard through the thick wood. “Who is it?”

There’s no answer other than a lighter rap of knuckles against the surface. Abruptly, I can picture the figure on the other side.

I open the door to meet Prince Lorenzo’s gaze, turned even darker than usual with worry. He makes a motion asking if he can come in.

My first impulse is to shake my head and close the door again. I’ve been keeping more distance from the princes since the last trial for good reason. I can’t let them shake my focus or my conviction.

I won them over as allies for good reason as well, though. It wouldn’t do to outright push them away now that they’re on my side.

And, gods smite me, it’d be nice to speak to someone without having to pretend I’m happy here.

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