Page 25 of Those Fatal Flowers

There’s something beneath his words…a light flirtation, perhaps, but it feels forced, like it’s an impression of what he believes he should say. We exchange goodbyes, but I lookback to him as he closes the door, and the pinched expression he wears when he thinks I’m not looking makes me wonder if he’s as confused by the performance as I am.

Cora’s hunched over a small plot of soil behind the house, just as Will said she’d be. A sack is positioned on her left hip, and she reaches into it to sprinkle seed onto the dirt below. Several chickens scuttle around her feet, pecking at the feed eagerly. There’s a part of me that wishes to melt into the shadows and drink all of her in, but the sound of her sniffling draws me out of their dark, safe embrace.

She lifts her head toward the sound of my footsteps and quickly moves to brush her cheeks with her free hand, but it’s too late—she knows I’ve caught her in a moment of weakness, and the eyes that moments ago held such sorrow now blaze with rage.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is clipped, though she begrudgingly adds, “My lady.”

“I came to see if you were all right.” My skin flushes hot under her scorn.

She snorts. “Why you?”

Compassion withers inside me into indignation. “Maybe I’m the only one who hasn’t grown tired of your hostility.”

Her eyes widen, but she’s alone in being shocked by the words that leave my mouth. I would never have spoken to Proserpina like this; despite being her dearest friend, her lover, I was also her handmaiden. A servant. But I’m not Cora’s lesser—here, I’m the one with the higher rank. The one with power. I don’t have to hold myself back.

“You shouldn’t be so cold to them. They’re only trying to protect you. You know that, right?”

Her fury dissipates into an expression I can’t quite decipher. Only when her teeth find her bottom lip do I notice that it’s trembling.

“Yes,” she admits. “I know they worry for me. But what would they have me do?”

I take a step closer. “Do you want to be Master Bailie’s wife?”

“I don’t owe you an answer to that.”

Gods, she’s frustrating. My blood rushes through my ears, and I can’t tell if I want to slap her or—

No.

“You can speak plainly to me,” I say.

“Can I, truly?” A bitter laugh escapes from her throat. “I’ve seen the way Thomas looks at you. And now you ask me to spill my secrets? How do I know you won’t use them against me?”

Her accusation stings, not far off the mark, and I shoot back coldly before I can stop myself. “You think I’m your biggest threat? After what I just heard, isn’t it Thomas who earns that title?”

Cora falls silent at my retaliation, and my lips threaten to curl into a victorious smile, but a fresh glistening in her eyes melts the satisfaction from my features.

“My father’s dying,” she says, tears spilling over her cheeks. “If we’re not wed before he passes, there’ll be no one left to make a suitable match for me.”

“Couldn’t Will help?” Her attitude be damned, the sight of those tears draws me to her side, and without thinking, I take her hands in mine.

“There’s a thin veil of order here that grows weaker with each Council member’s passing. There isn’t much Will could do against a pack of ravenous men. Yes, Thomas has a cruel streak, but he’s respected for it. And as Mistress Bailie, I’ll never want for anything. Food will always be on the table, and money will always be in our coffers. Of course I worry about what our life together will be like…But Alis’shusband beats her, and she has no money to show for it. Charles Florrie made certain that Emme would never find a decent match. The pool of gentlehearted men is smaller than the number of single women. That’s why I need him. Why I need the Bailies. And I might lose everything to you.”

She looks down at our hands, but she doesn’t pull away from me. I slide in closer, so near to her that I can feel her breath against my fingers as I reach to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her skin is like silk, and the desire to feel more of it takes root in the pit of my stomach.

“Cora,” I begin, my voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “I didn’t cross the sea to steal another woman’s betrothed.” The words fall from my lips so easily that even I believe them for a moment—until I remember what I actually plan for Thomas. Suddenly, the words taste like dirt in my mouth.

“We’re trapped on an island a world away from anyone who owes us kindness, so I ask again, what would the others have me do?”

Let me take them,I want to say, but of course I can’t. Instead, I envelop her in an embrace, bracing for the moment she pushes me away.

But Cora doesn’t. Instead, she leans her frame into mine, nestling her head into the base of my neck. The scent of roses rises from her hair, and I’m suddenly aware of every part of my body—the places that connect with hers sing with anticipation, while the parts that don’t cry out for their turn. Everywhere aches for more. Her breath on the bare flesh of my neck is a small miracle. How is it that she fits so perfectly in my arms?

“It seems a woman’s fate is the same no matter where you’re from,” I whisper into her raven hair as a wave of homesickness crashes over me. I viewed those shores as walls to a prison for centuries, but is it possible that we had our ownlittle Eden on those rocky cliffs, safe from the ravages of men? After what I’ve seen of the outside world these few days, will I even want to leave Scopuli again if I’m able to break Ceres’s curse? “I wish you no harm. I swear it.”

It’s a truth hidden inside a larger lie, but I hope it brings her comfort nonetheless.

When she lifts her head to look at me, I find that those vibrant green eyes believe me.

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