Page 123 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

I knew what would happen—the same thing that always happens. They were going to ask me to do something I’d be forced to accept while disdaining at the same time. They’d force me to do something that makes it harder to look myself in the eye. At least I would be ready for it, I thought. At least I would protect those who are important to me.

After an exhausting boast of niceties, Lusia dropped the ball. A thousand-pound ball, that was about to make it impossible for me to swim.

“Lilac is healed,” she said, “her physical injuries, that is.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, too eagerly, too emotionally for Lusia’s liking.

“It means that there’s something else keeping her from waking,” Labyrinth said. He had the decency to act discomforted.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well Desdemona already has, hasn’t she? But fool me three times, I would make sure that was an impossibility.

I stood by Desdemona, lie after lie. I took a man’s death as my own, for her. I’ve scarred my very soul for eternity. Every time I close my eyes, I’m watching a man’s world who simply tried to feed his family, then I’m feeling him die. Always and forever, for her. Because of her.

I watched her in a vision, looking at a moonaro like the thing was human, days before a moonaro attacked my sister.

If something was keeping Lilac asleep beyond her wounds, it had to be Desdemona.

“We need you to bring her to us,” Lusia said. “We can’t let the,” she wiggled her fingers with a look of disgust on her face, “others,” she spat the word like a slur, “talk.”

Others, as in those less than her, which means everyone. She is the queen of the strongest world in Elysia. A world that values the woman’s input and intuition above the man’s. There is no one above. Her throne is too high for tantalizing.

I did what she asked, because there is never another option. I brought Lilac to Soma, and that was when Lusia instructed me to hand her over to Piphany. She wasn’t even going to take her daughter to the infirmary, she was going to have her advisor do it.

“No,” I said, holding tight onto Lilac. “I’ll take her.” I looked at Piphany. “You’ll follow me.”

Piphany scoffed.

“Darling, there is no need for theatrics.” Lusia laid her hand on my back and pushed me. “We’ll go together.”

That was when I knew she was up to something. I knew I wouldn’t like it, and I knew I was screwed, right then and there. My only concern was for Lilac.

Surely enough, we were—screwed, that is—because when we made it to the room that was prepared for Lilac, I saw the faint shimmer that comes with a Light Folk’s barrier. Once she goes in there, she’s not coming out, not without being electrocuted at least half to death.

Not until Lusia is ready to let her out.

While I held Lilac, I asked, “You’re locking her away?”

“For her own good, darling,” she said, her voice chillingly devoid of emotion. “We need to make sure she is betrothed as soon as she wakes up, without trouble. She’s never been as,” her cold hand settled on my cheek, “compliant as you.”

I must’ve shown signs of fight in my eyes, because the next thing she did was look down at Lilac, pulling the life force from her.

I knew I’d be willing to die if it’d save her. Dying that day would’ve only doomed her. Doomed Azaire, and my entire reasoning for doing everything I’ve done in life thus far. Dooming the very reason I’ve been so compliant.

I looked at my sister, unconscious, defenseless, and now dying. I made a choice that, like so many others, I’m scared I will never be able to wipe from my conscience. I handed Lilac to Piphany, then I lived with the disgust and my deepest fear—that I will only ever be allowed to survive under their hands.

“And, Lucian, darling?” Lusia said. “Get to class. We have appearances to uphold.”

I got more droozed than ever that evening, and when I was slightly more sober, I went to Cynthia. The first thing I did was fall in the davenport and began laughing uncontrollably. Then I pulled the silver flask from my coat pocket and took a sip, sliding it over to her from across her wide, mahogany desk. She poured herself a glass. I took another sip and briefly thought it may have been one too many.

I was still laughing when Cynthia said, with caring eyes on me, “I’m ready to listen when you’re ready to talk.”

“Perhaps I should just–just,” I laughed and laughed and threw up my hands, “kill them all!”

“We can work toward it,” Cynthia said, and she sounded much more levelheaded than me. It wasn’t the first time I’ve heard her speak treason.

I ran my hands through my already messy hair and drank even more vesi. The rest of the evening is mostly a blur, and I made a very rash decision in this blur. “I’ve let myself become consumed with the notion of revenge. What happens once I have it?”

Lusia continues to control my life? I continue to find pointless ventures to distract myself?

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