Page 76 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

Desdemona looks down at our feet. “No,” she whispers.

“Why is that?” I want to pull her gaze back to mine.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “a lot has happened since I got here.”

“You can talk to me,” I say selfishly. “You know that, don’t you?”

Her gaze finally comes back to mine. “Of course,” she says softly. Her grip tightens around my neck. Her left hand.

A lie.

Smart girl.

I can’t risk her running in the middle of the night and not telling me where. I can’t risk her disappearing.

Because of the void. Nothing more.

Confessions of endearment and wanting to know her will be left in the past as what they are.

Mistakes.

“You are. Safe here.”

I lie too.

* * *

The next day, Margaret and Olwen come to the school to escort me to Soma. They take me to the throne room, whisper that they’re sorry, and then disappear behind the closing door.

Lusia and Labyrinth sit on their thrones, the windows behind them shining white light into the blue room.

I always feel small before them, particularly so here. Tiny in a grandiose room. Nothing compared to the power of the tall columns, wider than me. The statues of Sulva, with their hair shaped like crescent moons, heavier than me. The steps that lead to their thrones, higher than me.

The eyes of Lusia and Labyrinth, stronger than me.

“Darling, come,” Lusia says, lifting her hand and summoning me with her fingers. I like the word better on my tongue, being said to Desdemona.

It’s less repugnant.

Labyrinth nods to me. “Son.”

I do the same, daring myself to walk closer. “Father.” Anytime I’m summoned here, I know the outcome will be dreadful. Another task to be followed through, regardless of what it means to me.

“We’re not going to waste any time,” Lusia says. “The girl in the gold at the Gerner, when did she enroll at Visnatus?”

It’s as I feared, as I knew—as Desdemona knew. Lusia could tell that Desdemona was the orphia she was looking for from one glance. I wonder if the gold dress was too telling.

“I don’t know,” I say nonchalantly.

“Hm,” Lusia says at the same time as Labyrinth says, “Bring her in.”

I twist my head to the entrance, scared of what Lusia has already done. Has my promise—my lie—to Desdemona already been broken?

Lilac is the one to walk in. With wide eyes, full of fear. She opens her mouth, and shadows wrap around the lower half of her face.

“Let her go!” I shout, my emotion overcoming me. Besting me.

“My apologies, Lilac,” Lusia says. “I was afraid that Azaire wouldn’t be enticing enough this time.”

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