Page 91 of Between Fear and Favor

“You don’t care about anything,” she huffed, shaking her head.

“And being angry all the time is so much better,” I said, lifting a brow. “I’d rather care about nothing than let rage consume me.”

“See, this is what I mean. You would rather feelnothing,” she said, crossing her arms and stepping forward. “You care about no one but yourself.”

Softly, I couldn’t help the words which escaped me. “That’s not true.”

Her narrowed gaze darted across my face, and I was certain it caught on my lips. But that made no sense. She had barely forgiven me, only choosing friendship thanks to our proximity.

“Don’t you want to avenge Ismene?” she asked, averting her eyes and biting her lip.

“How can I avenge her when you’ve already done it for me?”

Her brows raised, and she blinked. “So, you’re angry with me for killing your brother? He was trying tokillyou. Me and Otya too. And besides, it’s clear the Supreme had something to do with it.”

Though I didn’t exactly wish to exist in the memory of my brother’s death, and I still held confusing feelings for the man who raised me, I didn’t hold any ill will towards her at all.

“I’m not angry. I just...it won’t bring her back.” Peering up at the spring sky, I watched a cloud move over us which looked strikingly like a cat. “When there is nothing to be done to set things right,” I began, shrugging, “the most likely outcome will be disappointment. I’ve quite a bit of experience with futile anger—I was raised by vipers, after all. I don’t bother anymore.”

Elora kicked at a pebble in the dirt path. “I think that’s cowardly.”

I clenched my jaw. Despite my care for the girl standing in front of me, I didn’t enjoy being insulted. “And being angry when you should be sad is so much better.” I bent over, picking up the sword Thyra had bested from me. “And taking it out on the wrong person, no less.”

“Mama knew?—”

“It is not your mother’s fault!” I snapped, sheathing my sword and pacing along the packed dirt path. The smell of blooming lilacs only increased my now foul mood. Elora had pushed me to the brink of something ugly. Perhaps she’d gotten what she wanted in the end. For whatever reason, the way I grieved my loved one hadn’t been good enough for her. No amount of blame could bring my sister back. For Theo, she wanted to blame someone she could take out her anger on.

Emmeline was the easiest choice, given her inability to save Elora’s friend in time.

Elora didn’t move, only watching me with that set jaw. An errant curl fell from her braid, and I fought the urge to touch it. I needed to push her away. To protect her, and perhaps to protect myself.

“The blame lies solely with Declan. With the Umbroths. We are a lineage of rot. My brother was a terrible, cruel monster, and Theo died because ofhim. Because of my family. If you want to be angry, fine. Be angry. But don’t ruin your relationship with your family over it. Be angry with mine.

Be angry withme.”

When I finally looked up from the ground, my heart nearly broke in half. Expecting to find blinding white fury in her eyes, all I saw were tears.

Before I could say anything, before I could take the words back, she spun and stomped down the path.

Headin my arms on the dining table, I thought of all the ways to apologize to Elora when she came in to eat. I wouldn’t deliver a single one of them, despite wanting to. Sheshouldhave been angry with me and my family.

And she should have left me alone about Ismene.

I’d been grieving my entire life. Ismene wasn’t the first sibling of mine to be murdered—by Declan, no less. Perhaps she was the one I was closest to, but I was no stranger to the useless despair which came from being an Umbroth.

She couldn’t judge me for that.

Still, though, I didn’t like how we’d left things.

When I woke, wiping an undignified crust of drool from the corner of my lip, I realized I must have dozed off. To be fair, there were only so many ways that my very presence was a disservice to Elora, and thinking about them had grown quite dull very quickly. Sitting up, I found Reminy seated across from me with a bowl of stew and a large lump of bread.

“Did you already eat?” the man asked, peering at me over his spectacles.

“No. I was waiting for...” I began, staring at his bowl of soup. Normally, the caretaker’s wife served the five of us dinner alongside her family. Stupidly, I blinked at the slice of bread Reminy offered me. Taking it, I stood and wandered in what I thought was the correct direction.

“The bowls are stacked beside the stewpot,” Reminy offered, and I scowled at the man. As if he thought I didn’t know how to serve myself.

With a bowl full of stew, I pursed my lips when I couldn’t see the utensils. Eyeing the drawers beneath the long counter, I assumed they were kept in one of them. I refused to open one, not wishing to fall victim to Reminy’s ire should I choose incorrectly. He wouldn’t tease—because he was kind. He would just think I was an insipid royal twat, and that was definitely worse.

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