Page 19 of Lovely Deceit

Oliver grabs a couple of plastic bags. “Well, good news. Leo said we both passed, so expect the aroma of sweet fuckery when we arrive back at the hall.” He pauses for a moment. “I wonder what they send people who don’t make it?”

I can answer that because they did it to me once. “They don’t send you anything. You’re brought into a Knights’ meeting with no warning and ridiculed in front of everyone. They whittle you down until you’re a bloody stump who’s not only aware that you’re not a Knight, but that you basically fail at everything. The humiliation is so thick you feel like you might throw up.”

Eden turns to stare at me, and for a brief moment, I feel like maybe I’ve gotten to he—

“Oh, joy. Glad I avoided that one…so far.”

Me too, actually. Grandfather doesn’t want her in the Knights, but he’s also about keeping up appearances. She may have made it to Fledgling, but he’s probably hoping she’ll leave eventually. He’ll try everything possible to make her life a living hell until she quits. Then, he can congratulate himself on a job well done, not caring what piece of Eden’s soul he took from her.

I wonder how many pieces of mine he actually has. A handful, at least. Enough to make me miss them in moments like this where I should just go up to Eden and tell her I’m sorry that I couldn’t move. That I’m sorry I was so crippled with fear that I couldn’t do anything. That he flung me back to the worst moment of my life, and I felt so powerless I didn’t know what to do. That I hated seeing her like that for even one second. That I felt the fear in her eyes sink into mine. Almost drowned in it.

But no, a Jarvis doesn’t say those things. Instead, I bark, “Get in the car. We’ll send someone back for your British piece of shit,” before stomping past them and finally edging out of the room so filled with tension that it nearly took my knees from underneath me. Outside, I can breathe a little better, and I’m not so entwined with the past that I can think clearer.

I’ll never be like Oliver. I won’t be the doting puppy or the caregiver or the one Eden turns to when she needs help. I lost that ability years ago, and I’ll never get it back.

There’s no use in trying.

10

Eden

Ihalf expect Alaric to be at Jarvis Hall when we return. It’d be like Leo to be an asshole and leave him there, then tell me he left. The fact that he’s not here doesn’t mean Leo isn’t an asshole, it only means he wasn’t lying about this.

Alaric’s gone.

Just like that. Like he didn’t even care what I’d gone through. He’s not here to ask how I am, or if I need anything. The same man who comforted me through my previous panic attack didn’t give a shit when I was having one in front of a slew of dark-robed Knights.

Humiliation pulses through me. I shouldn’t feel this way. It was a natural reaction to what was going on, but to know that the Knights saw me weak and defenseless is a pain I can’t take right now.

If only I’d been stronger…

If only I’d been able to see it as the Trial it was…

I shake my head, glancing down the hallway to Alaric’s room as I sit at the kitchen bar. It wasn’t a Trial, not for some people there. The majority of the Knights are just assholes, taking pleasure in taunting me, but for a select few there, they were actuallytryingto get to me.

My head starts to pound, but I can still hear Sir Jarvis’ words:good thing you were following her.

My gaze moves to the door that Leo shut himself behind the moment we got back. If I ask him what that meant, he’ll just lie. He’ll say he was following me that night, though I have no idea how he knew I left. He won’t tell me the truth because underneath it all, Leo is still a scared little Knight falling in line with the bigger, badder wolves.

Well, he’ll be a frightened little puppy when I get done with him. I want to see the same fear in his eyes that was in mine. Then and only then will I feel even remotely better about being in his presence.

Alaric’s not going to get away with it either.

Oliver boops my nose. “You’re thinking.”

I nod slowly after turning in my chair to face him. He’s gotten his grandmother’s tea set out, so I know he feels sorry for me. After this, he’ll stow it away in his bedroom again, but he swears this tea set is the only thing that can make a good cuppa. And for some reason, I believe him.

“Alaric,” I start, tracing the line of the teacup’s exaggerated handle.

“Bastard actually left,” Oliver huffs, busying himself with making the tea.

I lower my voice to keep from being heard. “I’m trying to figure out what to do about that. I don’t know how I can mess with him when he’s not even here.”

Oliver turns slowly. He looks so domesticated with the elaborate tea pot in one hand and a dainty cup in the other. His brown-blonde hair is messier than normal, but the whole picture of him in his tea-making element only serves to give the scene such an Oliver-like presence. A smile flits across his face. “Well, if he’s not doing as the Knights say…”

I return his grin with one of my own. “We can get him on that. We just need to find out whether they’re supposed to still be watching me or not.”

Oliver sets the cup on the island before pouring me some of the heated brown liquid, and then filling his own. Steam wafts over the royal purple lip rimmed with gold filigree.

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