Page 64 of Those Fatal Flowers

My sisters,I want to scream.They’re depending on me.

And I’m running out of time.

Cora spits at my feet, the glob of saliva barely missing my left boot to land in the snow.

“I don’t want him, Cora! I never wanted him!” I reach for her hand, as if somehow our skin touching can convey the sincerity of this small truth. “You must know that all I’ve ever wanted is—”

“Don’t.” She flinches away from me before I can find her. “Don’t you dare.”

The hatred in her voice steals my confession from my throat. “Please, believe me. I never meant for this to happen…I care for you, Cora. And I cared for Will, too.”

“Oh, I know you cared for him. You’re a seductress. A whore.”

I balk beneath the weight of her anger. Who exactly is she accusing me of seducing? Is it only Will and Thomas, or does she count herself among the ranks?

“I know what you two were up to, sneaking around when I was doinganythingpossible to keep Thomas’s affection. But you must not have cared much for Will, given that you’re already willing to sell your cunt to Thomas.”

I’ve never heard Cora speak so profanely, and the word echoes in my mind, drawing shivers up my back.Cunt. Cunt. Cunt.

“You know it wasn’t like that between us.”

“So you never laid with him?”

I open my mouth to speak and then close it. It would be so simple to lie to her now, far easier than explaining the truth of what Will and I shared, but where would I even begin?

“This is your chance to speak honestly. And not just about Will. You’ve been hiding something from me, from us, since the moment you landed here. None of the men care to investigate because they don’t want to jeopardize their chance atunimaginable wealth, but don’t think that we can’t sense something isn’t right. Tell me everything now, or don’t speak to me again.”

If Sybil was exiled for healing an innocent man, I won’t be given the chance to flee into the safety of the woods—my story will cost me my life, and swiftly. And yet, as I stand before those searching green eyes, there’s a part of me that wants to tell her everything. If it were only my future at stake, I would drop to my knees and confess it all, from the very beginning. Every shameful secret I’ve ever kept, I’d give to Cora willingly.

But the gods aren’t known for offering second chances, and my sisters need me to succeed. I owe them that, after all the years Scopuli stole from them. ThatIstole from them.

“I can’t…” My chest tightens as the words leave my lips. Her stare hardens.

“Then keep your distance,” she says. The words are cold, plated with a finality that chills my blood.

“Cora—”

“Goodbye, Thelia.”

There’s something in her voice, buried in the anger, a seed beneath snow. It’s sorrow. The tone makes me reach for her again, but my hand finds nothing but empty air as she retreats around the corner, out of sight.

I catch glimpses of her through the windows, watch her figure vanish behind corners, and overhear her name on other lips. It feels as if Cora died, too, now no more than a ghost who haunts me with near misses.

I’m surprised to find that her absence hurts as much as Proserpina’s did, although the pain is a different shade.Proserpina was taken from me against her will, and the guilt of playing a role in that violent act warped my insides into something as monstrous as the exterior that Ceres gave me to find her. But Cora is still here, just out of reach, disgusted by me—and with good reason. I always assumed Proserpina must have despised me, too, but I never had to see it. The image of Cora’s twisted face, of the twinge of longing in her goodbye, torments me just as much as those earlier memories of Proserpina, bathed in moonlight, smiling up at me from that secluded pool.

I’ve taken to following Margery around like a sick dog, eager for kindness, which is why I eat breakfast in the kitchen instead of in my room. Behind me, Margery stirs away at another crock of watery soup. I don’t have the heart to ask her what she’s flavoring this one with. The spoon clinks against the rim of the pot erratically, and I turn away from the woeful meal before me to watch her.

Her eyes are locked on me, and we both startle. I wasn’t expecting her to be so intently focused on my form, but to be fair, she wasn’t expecting me to notice. It’s not common for people to pay her much attention.

“Are you all right?” I motion my head to her vigorous mixing.

“Forgive me, Lady Thelia, I didn’t mean to stare…” Wisps of blond hair poke out from beneath her coif, further evidence of her nerves. Her eyes dart to the wall and then back to me, teeth chewing on her bottom lip while she searches for words. My heart begins to pound as I watch her. I imagine a stale smell filling the space between us, the anxiety I’m certain is dripping from her pores. “It’s just something I heard from Elyoner this morning…”

“What did she say?”

“Well, she heard from Alis, who overheard it when her husband was talking with Master Lacie over an ale—” She wrings her hands in her apron.

“And?” I can’t keep myself from interrupting her. The way she refuses to meet my gaze makes me uneasy.

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