Page 46 of This Violent Light
“Reluctantly, but yes,” he says.
I’d tasked him with leaving Grace at Cora’s this morning. I should have done it myself, and yet…I’d asked Oskar. I’d come here instead to lay out like a drying cloth.
“A bit cold for sunbathing, isn’t it?” he asks.
I don’t respond. I pull my sweater over my head, following it with my coat. It’s the one Grace borrowed when I took her to buy clothes from Nicasi. It smells of her, and only her. In the sun, I can’t scent her blood.
I brush past Oskar and head for the manor doors. Justwhen I think he’s letting me off the hook, he clears his throat. And though I know better, I slow my steps. When I turn, he’s already looking at me expectantly.
I give him nothing, leveling him with my flattest expression.
“Would you like to tell me?” he asks.
“No,” I say, but I don’t move. I watch him for several long seconds, waiting for him to press. When he doesn’t, I swallow my pride like a vial of poison. “The Pruce witch isn’t making progress.”
“I know her name,” Oskar says. His flat grey eyes spark with amusement. “As do you.”
“She should have made progress by now,” I say between my teeth. For whatever reason, my tongue feels thick in my mouth. It’s difficult to speak, to explain the unpleasant sensation that’s lingered since yesterday’s interaction with Grace.
“Yes,” he says. He tilts his head, studying me.
“She’ll make the progress,” I say. I sound defensive, even though it’s the truth. “She just…it’s taking longer than expected.”
“What’s plaguing you, Master?” Oskar asks. He steps closer, and I hate the look on his face. Almost paternal, as if he’s going to comfort me.
“Nothing,” I snap. “It’s only a matter of time before she figures this out. And if she doesn’t…”
My words trail. I’m not sure what I plan to say.
I’ll threaten her.
I’ll kill her.
I’ll break the curse with her decaying blood.
I don’t say anything at all. I turn on my heel, making it several steps before Oskar speaks again.
“If I may, sir,” he says. His voice is firm, yet cautious. “Perhaps Grace’s problem is not with her magic, but with her fear.”
I look back, even though I don’t want to. I’d much rather storm to my quarters to shower this sunlight off my skin.
“She doesn’t trust us, and she’s smart not to,” he says. “She doesn’t know what will become of her once she breaks the curse. I wouldn’t be eager to help either, if I suspected I’d be killed in the end.”
Oskar’s words hang in the air, prickling against my skin worse than the sun’s heat.
“Perhaps if she trusted you, she would be more willing to help,” he says. He bows his head as he speaks, as if he knows he’s treading treacherous waters. “It is only a thought, Master.”
“A good thought,” I admit, even if the words sound painful. “I will consider it.”
I turn to leave again, and this time, he doesn’t stop me.
13
A RED BILLBOARD
SEBASTIAN
Ican’t remember the last time I’ve felt nervous. Anxious, sure. Irritable. Impatient. Even uncertain.
