Days like this, when her spirits were low, she wondered why she bothered with any of it. Not just putting up with a bastard like Thiago. But living. Struggling to make some sort of difference.
The servants they’d brought from the Capital eventually settled themselves and brought Madeline her things.
Silently, she allowed her maid to help her bathe, dress, and do her hair before going down to the dining hall.
“I think this is the worst room yet.”
Thiago said it loudly enough that many people turn their heads away. Probably all scowling.
“You expected better?” Madeline couldn’t help it. He was so annoying.
Thiago smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist. Pulling her closer than she would have liked.
Not that she wanted any contact at all.
“He’s had half a year to prepare for our coming.”
“That should tell you how much there was to do.”
“Or how lazy and incompetent the man is.”
Madeline bit back her instincts to say something overly rude by pressing her lips tightly together.
The whole situation was humiliating.
Everywhere she looked, there were people glancing at her whom she recognized. They all knew her, too. Men she’d worked with on the battlefield, women who’d directed her among the wounded… and Flint.
Flint, who refused to do more than politely meet her eye and bow as he directed her and Thiago to the seats of honor. Thiago, in mock politeness, pulled out a chair for her. Though keeping the seat of honor for himself.
“What’s this?”
Madeline flinched.
“What’s what, your Highness?” Flint watched as Thiago took a seat.
Once seated, Thiago waved a hand around the room. “I don’t see your lovely little sister anywhere.”
Flint’s jaw tightened. Upset that the Prince was taking notice of Em.
He sat down on Thiago’s other side and calmly crossed his arms.
“Emmaline had a mishap with her mana recently. I’m told it suddenly returned less than an hour ago and she’s feeling too dizzy to join us.”
“What a shame. She was rather lively earlier.”
“Lively?”
Madeline stared straight ahead at the far wall, wanting to avoid eye contact with anyone while Thiago told the story.
Her maid, one that came with her, placed a plate in front of her. Still, she didn’t touch it. Waiting for Thiago to acknowledge his plate first.
Just like everyone else in the hall.
She let out a sigh as he dragged the story out as long as he could. Deliberately making everyone wait on him.
At the end of the story, and while Thiago finally speared a roasted potato, she risked a glance at Flint.
The man’s expression hadn’t changed at all.
Either he was maintaining strict self control, or he already knew the story. If he already knew, then why the hell did he allow Thiago to go on and on about it?
Viciously, she stabbed at the meat. Not bothering yet with a knife.
“I sincerely apologize, your Highness.” Flint bowed his head. “I will have a talk with my sister.”
“I thought she was being darling.”
Madeline flinched and shivered. Despite herself, her eyes flashed anxiously toward Flint. Who didn’t look at her or change his expression.
“You should bring her along for the inspection tomorrow. I’d like to get to know the little lady.”
Over my dead body. Madeline snarled before she realized what she was doing.
“A young child will only get in the way.” She finally picked up her knife. “And she will tire quickly.”
“We can send her away once she’s too tired to follow along. It’s good training for a future wife, don’t you think, Baron? To see how things are managed on a big estate?”
A future wife?
Madeline’s hand shook. What the hell was he planning? Was he just trying to get under Flint’s skin? Or was he hinting at something more sinister?
Damn it!
She hated this man.
Flint smiled grimly.
“Her Highness voiced my own objections, and you have answered them, your Highness. I can arrange for Emmaline to join us for an hour or two if you wish.”
“Is she a well-behaved girl?”
“You saw for yourself earlier.”
“Then she still needs lessons,” Thiago concluded. “Forgive me for overstepping, Baron, but the child isn’t likely to thrive in a backwoods place like this. I can recommend some highly competent guardians who will see to her education.”
“In the Capital, I suppose?”
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“Yes.”
Baron Grimshaw’s smile continued to be grim. He was probably only attempting to smile out of politeness.
“Thank you for the offer, your Highness. But right now Em needs the comfort of family. I don’t intend to send her away until she’s at least sixteen. And even then, only if she agrees to go.”
Thiago’s smile was icy.
“Of course, if that’s your decision.”
Madeline relaxed by a fraction when the conversation returned to business.
The dinner fare was plain and limited to two courses. Which Madeline appreciated though she knew Thiago would take offense. She nibbled on everything as she listened.
The agenda tomorrow was to look over the Marquis estate. That would take a day or three, depending on how deeply Thiago wished to look into the records. Being a meticulous man, Madeline expected at least two days if not three.
Then they’d leave the estate to visit two or three reeves.
“I cannot vouch for the state of the reeves.” Flint picked up his wine cup. “Its recently come to my attention that at least one of them has been embezzling. I’ve begun investigating the others, but my investigations are not complete.”
“Really, Baron. My father insists on giving you the March because he thinks highly of your competence. But you can’t even manage this much?”
Flint gave Thiago a thoroughly false smile.
“I assumed the Imperially appointed representatives were all men of character. I still believe most of them are. My investigations are merely a formality because of the one who was but a thief.”
Madeline almost choked on her food.
Her laughter tried to boil out of her stomach and it took everything she had to keep it from showing on her face.
Point to Flint!
Unable to argue with Flint without making himself look bad, the Prince scowled and changed the subject.
Madeline’s mood went up several notches, and she ended dinner in great spirits.
Which was her only buffer for when Thiago slipped into her room uninvited when the maids left.
After he was done with her and fell asleep, she stared at the window. Wrapping her arms around her naked body and making sure the blanket was tucked all the way to her chin.
It made her feel less exposed.
Still, this unpleasant situation wasn’t the worst thing she’d experienced over the years. Compared to the horrors she’d witnessed and been part of on the battlefield, especially the cruelest of murders that happened before her eyes, her emotions were completely dead to Thiago’s unwanted attention.
Right now, though, there was a hollowness where her heart should have been.
Was it because she was now among people she considered friends… but unable to even acknowledge them with so much as a wave?
It made her wonder.
Was anything she did worth the effort?
The lies, the spying, collecting secret funds. Was any of it worth it? It felt a lot like trying to roll a boulder up a hill. She couldn’t see over the top of it and didn’t know how far there was left to go.
And couldn’t see if she had a chance of making it.
… Maybe the boulder would slip and crush her as it rolled right back down.
If she was going to end up so isolated… and deal with the real possibility she would fail and end up dead…
Was it worth it?
She dwelt too long on the past. It took only half a second for her to recognize the symptoms of a panic attack trying to get the best of her.
Hands shaking, she carefully rolled out of bed and pulled on a robe.
Unlike her rooms in the Palace, there was no antechamber to this room. So getting out, she had to step all the way into the hallway. Appreciating the lack of lights, she leaned on her bedroom door and shook. Gasping through her panic.
When her gasps turned to hiccups, she covered her face.
PTSD. She had freaking PTSD.
Understanding what was happening to her didn’t make it any less easy to deal with.
She laughed. If heard by anyone, it would have sounded next to insane.
Well, whether or not it was ‘worth it’, she had to keep going.
Otherwise, her entire life was just one long line of nothing.
Her existence meant nothing.
It took her a long fifteen minutes to regain control of her body. Then she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Not better. She was too raw to be ‘better’. But now she could hide it again.
After she went back into her room, a shadow moved at the other end of the hallway. Flint didn’t go any closer to the door she’d just disappeared to. He simply bowed his head in silent shared helplessness and went back to his room one corridor over.
***
“Guess who I saw today.”
Prince was sharpening a sword by the dim light of a small arrow hole window. He couldn’t hear her, of course. But she was too agitated to stop talking.
“Do you remember that sorceress from the night you were captured?”
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
“She’s here! At my brother’s manor. Who do you think she is?”
Prince lifted his sword, turning it to look at the blade edge.
“I don’t think she’s a regular guard. The knight was acting all respectful toward her. But I wasn’t allowed to join them for dinner, so I didn’t get a chance to find out.”
Em pouted.
She was lying on her stomach, kicking her legs and looking up at him. At least, she felt her legs waving around, even though she couldn’t see them still.
Prince nodded and put down the whetstone in favor of a polish cloth. Em, feeling lonely with his unresponsiveness, pouted more and looked him up and down. How to get his attention…?
He had a scrape on his ankle. Small enough that no one would notice if it was gone.
With a grin, she reached out to touch it.
Prince froze. Then cautiously leaned over to look at his ankle.
A smile spread across his face. A relieved, radiant smile. Em liked that look on him.
“You here, Angel? It’s been a while.”
Wait. Was he almost crying? Em got to her knees and looked at him intently. Trying to project her concern at him.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head to one side while he carefully held the sword on his lap.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. I’m sorry.”
Getting all the way to her feet, she touched his cheek. Of course, she felt herself go through him. It was frustrating!
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to frustrate you.”
“It’s not you,” she told him. Her emotions mixed around annoyance and a desire to reassure him. “This whole situation is just stupid.”
He kept his eyes closed. Like he was listening. With a sigh, Em projected happiness. She was happy. Happy to see him. Happy to see him in one piece. She’d been afraid with the dreams stopping for weeks… that maybe he’d died.
It was a stupid fear. He wasn’t real in the first place.
But still, she’d been afraid. And didn’t know why she’d stopped dreaming about him.
She looked thoughtfully down at her fingers.
Her mana had only returned the night before. Was it somehow part of why she could come see him?
That would be extra motivation to not deplete herself.
A loud banging on the door had Prince wrinkling his nose. With a sigh, and a roll of his eyes, he yelled, “What?”
“Careful, Gray.” A woman opened the door and peeked in. “Give your sass to the wrong person and you’ll find yourself tied to a beating pole.”
“I think I’ll be fine, Zaria. You and the boys are the only ones who come down. What do you want?”
“Your mistress is here. Put that up, wash your face, and head upstairs.”