Page 44 of Her Cruel Empire
For the first time since I’ve known her, Eva’s mask disappears completely, leaving behind someone who looks tired. Lost. Alone.
“I failed him,” she whispers. “I wasn’t supposed to be there. He pushed me to safety, shielded me from the bullets.”
“He saved his daughter’s life. And then you saved his life. You’restillsaving him.”
“He’s not living. He’s just…existing.”
“He’s breathing. His heart is beating. That means there’s hope.”
Eva’s laugh is hollow. “You still believe in hope.”
“Don’t you?”
She doesn’t answer, but something in her expression softens. Just slightly. But it’s enough.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, the steady beep of monitors providing a strange kind of comfort. I watch Eva watch her father, and I see the little girl she must have been before the world taught her to be hard.
“What did they say?” she asks suddenly, making me startle back to the present moment. “The villagers. What did they say to make you so afraid that you disobeyed my one rule?”
For a moment I think she’s going to start ordering me around again, but her question is idle rather than brittle. “Well,” I start slowly, “they said some girls from the village who came to work here never returned. That they disappeared.”
Eva throws back her head and laughs. “Is that what they said?”
Emboldened by her genuine amusement, I go on. “They’re afraid of you, but they also said you were a protector.”
“The Novaks have protected this region for generations. Even before this castle was built, we kept the local warlords and bandits away, made sure supplies got through to the village, kept away raiders. It became our duty. And our privilege.”
“And now you do it.”
“Now I do it.” She strokes her father’s hand. “Among many other things.”
“Can I ask you something?” After a long silence, she gives a very slight tilt of the head that I take as assent. “Who shot him?”
Eva goes very still. Her hand stops moving on her father’s.
“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “Yet.”
“You’ve been trying to find out.”
“Every day since it happened. I’ve torn apart every rival organization, every enemy we’ve ever made. I’ve tortured men until they begged to tell me something—anything—just to make it stop. I’ve offered bounties that could buy small countries.”
I swallow hard, because I don’t think any of that was hyperbole. “And…nothing?”
“Nothing. But I know one thing. It was planned carefully. It waspersonal.”
“You mean…someone you trusted.”
“Someone who knew exactly where we’d be. When we’d be there. Which building across the street would allow them the right angle. And that someone is still out there.”
I stare at her father’s peaceful face as I think about what Eva has been living with for all these years. Not just grief, but paranoia. Not just loss, but the constant fear that the person who did this might come back to finish the job.
“That’s why you don’t trust anyone,” I say.
“I can’t afford to.”
“But you trust me?”
When she doesn’t reply, I glance up at her. She’s shaking her head slowly. “Oh no, little bird. I don’t trust you at all. But I have leverage over you, and that’s just as good.”
