Page 33 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
“But Miss Weaver,” Selina protests, widening her eyes into a look of faux innocence. “We have so much catching up to do. Perhaps we might have you and your child over for a visit sometime soon. Oh, do tell me. I can’t for the life of me remember—do you have a boy or a girl?”
Lord Ambrose’s expression softens into a look of sympathy. “I didn’t realize you were a widow, Miss Weaver,” he whispers. “You have my sincerest condolences.”
I shake my head. “No.” No, I can’t do this again. I look to Selina. I beg her, “Please, don’t.”
But like the snake she’s always been, she doesn’t listen.
She simply chooses that moment to strike. “Oh, Miss Weaver has never married, Lord Ambrose.” She says it loud enough for half the ballroom to hear. Even Lord Thomas’s lip curls with disgust, though still he will not even glance my way.
The effect on Lord Ambrose is immediate. He recoils from me, as if I have transformed into a leper before his very eyes. “Do excuse me, Lord Harcourt. Lady Harcourt,” he stiffly utters before disappearing into the crowd.
Leaving me alone. Withthem.
Selina turns her lips out into a pout. “Oh dear. Do forgive me, Miss Weaver. I hope I did not ruin things between you and Lord Burk.”
I don’t speak. I don’t try to defend myself. I don’t bother explaining once again that I have no child. That I’ve never had a lover. That what Selina saw that day—me soaked through with rain, clinging to my dearest friend while he mourned the death of his father—was nothing but a misunderstanding.
But it wouldn’t matter.
It never does.
With all the grace I can muster, I sink into a curtsy. “Lord Harcourt. Lady Harcourt.” I hate the way my lips tremble around the words. I refuse to let them see me break.
I refuse to let them see me cry.
Forcing a smile to my lips, I lie and say, “It is always a pleasure to see you, Lady Harcourt. How I so miss our weekly afternoon teas.”
And then I turn. I flee.
I do not run. Iwillnot run. But I push through the crowd as quickly as I dare while dozens of eyes stab into my back. I have no destination. No plan. All I know is that I have to get out of here before all these people see me for what I am—a freak. I feel the glow coming on. It is starting in my fingers, my toes.
This was a mistake. All of it.
But I knew that before I ever came.
I play my brief interlude with Selina on repeat in my mind as I burst from the ballroom and race into a quiet corridor lit only bya handful of lanterns. Night has long since fallen. Shadows pool along the columns.
This is the perfect place to disappear.
The hum of music and conversation fades as I slip behind a column and bury my masked face in my hands. I replay the conversation again, dissecting every little thing I did wrong.
I should have walked away the moment Selina approached. I should have ignored her and continued on to find Lord Reggie and Mama.
I should have told her to leave me alone.
Tears suddenly prick at my eyes—tears of anger. Hate. Desperation.
I press my hands tighter against my face, trying to hold back those tears with nothing but skin and willpower.
But it’s no use. I’m splintering. And this time, I can’t stop it.
From somewhere far off, I hear footsteps echoing off the stone floor. Brisk. Growing louder by the moment.
Someone’s followed me.
Mama, perhaps. Or Lord Reggie. No one else would possibly care.
A sudden thought seizes my heart, stopping it in its tracks:my glow. It has me firmly in its grip. I’m shining nearly as brightly as the closest lantern.
