Page 96 of House of Crimson Kisses
A carriage large enough for us appears, and we all take a seat inside.
It’s a strange thing when all of my siblings are together. Especially in the presence and company of others. Usually, we prefer to keep our distance until mother summons us for dinner.
We make it across the city, through the tunnels and to the Whisper Club in good time. There were barely any carriages out this evening. Perhaps because most of them had already done their travel to Mother’s castle to deposit half the city’s leaders along with protesters outside her castle walls.
At last, the nine of us stand in my bar with much-needed shots being distributed.
“Let’s never do that again,” Gabriel says and raises his glass. The rest of us follow suit and all down our shots.
Dancers fill the room; the music cranks up and members of the public drift in. The nine of us split up, each of us wandering off to have our own conversations and drown our sorrows in whatever way we need.
I’m sat watching Red dance with Lincoln. They flit from dancing to intense gesturing and conversations. This competition has driven more than a few rifts between people. I sense a presence at my shoulder.
“Dahlia,” I say.
“Sister.”
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“No. I…” Dahlia starts.
“Spit it out.”
“Would you give me a second? Gods. Look. When I was under, I experienced… It was…”
“Your greatest fear?” I ask.
She nods.
“Let me guess, you were weak beyond measure.”
“How did you?—”
I prod her muscled biceps. “It doesn’t take a genius to know you pride yourself on your strength more than anything else. You’re the head of Mother’s army, for goodness’ sake. You’re built like a bison. And you hate people who are weak of mind.”
She folds her arms, as if I’m not spouting obvious facts.
“Right. Well. When I was under, I experienced being ousted and condemned for being weak, and it made me think that maybe some of the isolation and hatred you’ve experienced might be a bit like that. And sure, we don’t exactly get on. But you are my sister, and I have defended you where I can. And?—”
“Dahlia.”
“Yes?”
“Are you giving me a peace offering? Are you trying to empathise?”
“Fucksake. It wasn’t nice. And I guess I’m sorry if you deal with shit like that.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Gods, that trial really screwed you up.”
“Oh, fuck off, Octavia.” She whacks me unnecessarily hard on the shoulder and I wince.
“Oww.”
“You deserved that,” she says.
I laugh because she’s right. I made that extra painful for her.
“Does this mean you’ve seen the light and realised that I’m the best sibling to take over and you’re going to stand down?”
