My gut flips, thinking of last night. I turn away.
"Have you come to terms with it yet?" Gustave says in a quiet voice.
I avoid him. "With what."
"The role you played. How you had to dig into the pit of your soul to get through it?"
"No."
"She wants to be your property, doesn't she?"
I turn quickly. My mouth goes dry. "How do you know?"
"I was married for eight years before Bernadette had to be the presentation of the night. And we had to do it twice. It changed everything."
I'm not sure if I want to know the answer, but I ask anyway. "How?"
"I shouldn't talk about this."
"Why?"
"Bernadette isn't Emilia."
"What does that mean?"
He picks up a bottle of scotch and pours three fingers and drinks one. "Bernadette was never submissive. If you can't tell, she's outspoken. She fought for women's rights and never took any shit from anyone." He takes another drink. "Until we entered this world."
Defensively, I growl, "So you think it makes it okay for Emilia? Since she's not as outspoken as Bernadette?"
"No. Of course not. But if Bernadette realized she couldn't limbo in both worlds, Emilia does. My guess is a lot quicker than Bernadette did."
I hate that he's right. I lower my voice. My heartbeat increases. I voice one of my biggest fears. "Does she still love you?"
His eyes meet mine. "With all her heart." He finishes his drink then holds the glass and points at me with his index finger. "The sooner you make peace with the world you're in and what that means between you and Emilia, the easier it'll be on her."
"Meaning?"
"She's your property. You own her."
Bile rises in my throat. No matter what agreement I made with Emilia, I can't seem to get past it.
"That right there is going to get you killed, and Emilia auctioned off."
"I'm supposed to be happy about it?"
"No. But deal with it, little brother. You might think last night is over, but all eyes are still on you and her tonight. Conform, or it'll eat you alive, and they will break you."
"They already have," I mutter.
"Yeah. I know." He sets his glass down and taps his ring. "I'll be recording the conversations tonight. We need to find out the Prime Minister's plans."
"And Louis?"
"Let him lead. And whatever you do, don't leave the room too early tonight. These next few weeks, every move of yours will be monitored." He glances at his watch. "I need to shower. I'll see you in twenty minutes."
They are still watching us. The pit in my stomach grows.
I leave the room and go into my suite. "Ma belle?" I call out, but she isn't there. I panic. "Ma belle," I holler.