Page 22 of Midnight Star

“Ready for what?” I ask, although the answer is already pressing against my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

She shifts uncomfortably. “Aerix requested you for dinner.”

My stomach drops. I hear the words, but they don’t fully register right away.

“But he never has me over for dinner,” I say quickly. “Victoria?—”

“He requested you,” Aethelthryth interrupts, and the look in her eyes is clear.

Don’t fight this. Don’t make it worse.

“Fine,” I say, because what else can I say? No? Refuse? As if that’s an option?

Well, itisan option. Everything’s an option.

It just isn’t the strategic one.

I start gathering my materials, even though the tubes of paints are open, and the brushes are everywhere. Not to mention that there’s paint all over my hands.

“I’ll clean this up and bring it back to you,”Aethelthryth looks at my hands, which are covered in paint that goes all the way up past my wrists. “You need to clean up and get ready.”

I nod, but inside, my mind is screaming. Because I know, deep down, that no matter how much paint I scrub over my hands—no matter how much soap I use—there are some stains I’ll never be able to wash off.

Victoria and Sophia are reading in the common room when I arrive, both of them already dressed for dinner.

Victoria’s attention snaps to my paint-covered hands. “I thought finger painting was for children?” she quips, but there’s something off about her voice. A forced lightness. A brittle edge hiding something far more fragile beneath.

I ignore her jab. Not because I can’t come up with a snappy reply, but because what I need to tell her is far more important.

If she doesn’t hear it from me, she’ll be even more upset than if she hears it from someone else.

And shewillhear it from someone else. Word spreads like wildfire in the Night Court.

“Victoria…” I start, taking a deep breath in preparation to drop the bombshell. “Aerix requested to have me over for dinner tonight.”

Her face pales, her fingers clenching the edge of the book she’s holding so tightly that I half expect it to tear.

“What did you say?” she says, as if I’ll tell her something different if she asks again.

“Aerix requested for me to come over for dinner tonight.” I can barely meet her eyes, but I force myself to do it, anyway. “I didn’t request this. I’m as surprised as you are.”

“No.” She shakes her head, as if she refuses to believe it. “You’re lying. He always has dinner with me. Always. Ever since I first got here.”

“Victoria—”

“What did you do?” She slams the book down on the table and stands. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“I’m not playing any game,” I say, standing strong. “I told you—I didn’t ask for this. I didn’twantit.”

Sophia rises and reaches for Victoria’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she tells her, although from the way she glances back and forth between me and Victoria, I doubt she believes it.

“It’snotokay.” Victoria pulls her hand out of Sophia’s, her eyes filling with tears. “If he stops wanting me, if he gets tired of me…”

“He won’t,” I tell her, but since we both know I can’t know that, I add, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t help me when he decides I’m too old.Too boring.” She lets out a hollow, bitter laugh. “When he sends me to the barns.”

“I can talk to him,” I say quickly, desperate to fix this. “I’ll tell him…”

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