Page 110 of Insolence
A raging blush heats my face. I’m on my feet, my napkin drifting to the floor before she’s done talking. “What time is it? Gods, I didn’t even hear the clock tower chime,” I hear myself babble.
I quickly thank Elodie for lunch and hustle out of there.
When I hurriedly brush past Ghisele, she watches me and murmurs, “Isn’t this quaint?”
By the time I slip outside, I’ve lost the thousand-petal rose that Elodie tucked behind my ear.
Chapter 33
Itissa
Stormdrift trudges on at a glacial pace.
Cordelia and Sadrie continue keeping to themselves for the most part, which is just as well.
Shame at what happened between me and Sadrie claws up my throat; rage at her reaction scratches behind my eyes. Sometimes I daydream about shaking her, telling her that what happened washerfault and what she did was wrong.
At least fury is better than the misery that threatens to drown me from time to time. If I’m honest, part of me is suffocating with loneliness. And it’s the lonely part of me that’s weak.
That part wants to collapse at Sadrie’s feet and beg her to talk to me, to be my friend again. It wants me to crawl into her lap, weep and kiss her, and tell her how much I miss her.
I remember what Elodie said about making myself and others ill. I’m very careful to keep myself under control, being mindful of my breathing and only allowing my temper to break loose when I’m alone and in private.
In the middle of the night near the end of the month, I can’t shake the memory of plunging the letter opener into Elodie’s shoulder, the hypnotic ooze of her blood as it seeped down her shirt, and the deranged delight I felt at spilling it.
I toss and turn, trying not to think about what I might have done that day in the greenhouse or why I have no recollection of it. I can’t get the image of sigils glowing on the backs of my hands out of my mind.
“Arcane beings. Preternatural, unearthly creatures wrought of chaos and magic.”
Elodie’s words from our shared lunch force me upright in bed.
I creep to the washroom, keeping to the shadows, and splash icy water on my face. “If I’m not a creature of chaosand magic,” I ask my reflection, “what other explanation is there for the monster inside of me?”
Tears prod the backs of my eyes. I’m suddenly doubting the precious little I think I know about myself.
My intent is to go back to bed, but somehow I end up outside of Elodie’s rooms, praying a sister on patrol doesn’t catch me. I have no idea how late it is when I knock.
“Tiss?” The Second High Priestess is still fully dressed when the door swings open. “Everything all right?”
Relief floods me at not having woken him.
His long hair is loose and hanging around his shoulders, released from the tight knot he wore it in during class today. Ofthe events I can’t recall the day that Bibi tore open my arm, I have retained the realization that sometimes he’s a man.
Now that I’ve acknowledged it, it’s something I can’t unsee.
He invites me in and offers a tincture for sleep. Grateful, I accept. Waiting on the settee while he fetches it, I feel idiotic showing up so late and wearing only my rumpled sleeping shift and soft-soled slippers.
“Here.” Elodie returns with the medicine, sinking onto the cushion next to me. “Now. Would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?”
I swallow the bitter concoction and make a face. “It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Not the first time you’ve arrived on my threshold late at night.”
The next thing I sayspills out of me in a rushed hiss: “Will youpleasetell me what’s wrong with me?”
He snorts. “I’m afraid I’ll need a little more specificity there, Tiss.”
“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” I whisper. “The monster inside of me has been silent for weeks now, but what if it doesn’t remain dormant?” My tone rises with my anxiety, my true concern breaking the surface: “What if the lottery results were mistaken? What if I’m really a demun?”
