Page 51 of The Ruin of Eros

“I see. And do you remember what you dreamed of last night?”

I flush deeper, and shake my head. I do, but I’m not about to tell him.

We are silent for a moment, then.

“Aletheia will be waiting,” he says, and proceeds down the corridor.

He does not eat tonight, only sits at the table while Aletheia brings bread and water.

“Tell me about them,” he says. “About your family.”

I look at him, not knowing what to say.

“My mother died when I was born,” I say at last. “I have a father and a sister.”

He nods.He knows this,I think. He knew my life before he took me from it.

“You are the younger sister?”

I nod. I’m off-balance in this conversation, which feels so natural, so calm.

“Dimitra is my half-sister, in fact. Her mother is dead, just as mine is.” I pause. “We were close as children. But”—I wonder how my tongue runs so loose, tonight—”my father showed me too much favor, and it came between us.”

It is something I have always been ashamed to admit. It is not until tonight that it occurs to me to question whyIshould carry the shame. I never asked for, nor wanted, such inequality.

“He favored you,” the demon murmurs. “And yet he let the king appoint your death.”

The comment does not offend me now as it would have before. It’s simply true.

“My father is a brave man,” I say. “A soldier. But he is not a rebel by nature.”

“Not like you?” There’s a touch of amusement in his voice which I recognize from before, but it doesn’t seem mocking now.Wasit mockery, before? Was it always so unkind as I believed?

“I am no natural born rebel, either.” I look up. “If I am one now, it is through my situation and not by birth.”

He refrains from disagreeing. I toy with another crust on my plate. Eventually he speaks.

“You think I understand nothing of your life. And yet, I do. I had a family too—and they, too, are lost to me.”

I stare at him. A family! And yet, why should a demon not come from somewhere?

“I was born one of three brothers,” he goes on. “As children we were always together. But as we grew, we became divided. I had my mother’s favor, which made them dislike me.” He taps the table gently with his fingers. “Such favor is not always a gift, is it?” He pauses again. “They have abandoned me, now.”

I frown. Until now, he has cloaked every detail of himself—even more effectively than he has hidden his face. I do not even know what name he goes by, in my world. Now, this fragment of information seems to change him.

“Do you miss your brothers?” I say. I don’t know why. The words just spill from me. The black hood shifts; his head tilts to one side, considering.

“We are very different,” he says shortly. “And besides, they have each other.”

The strangest impulse comes over me then. His hand rests on the table, and my own is only inches away. If I wanted, I could reach out and cover his hand with mine.

But I don’t.

Because that would be madness.

“Why can I not see your face?” I blurt out.

He turns; I feel the stare.

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