Page 103 of Tricky Princess
She let out a quiet breath as she took in her father. Cato’s freckles and big gray eyes mirrored her own. Even his scowl was hers. People thought she got her frown from her mother, but she’d gotten most of her traits from her father. He looked bored in his cell. His long legs stretched out in front of him. His arms were hugged tight around his chest as he stared up at the tiny window.
“Daughter,” he drawled, turning to look at where she was hidden. “No matter what you think, I’m not here to harm you.”
Ellea stepped out of the shadows, noting the tick in his jaw as he took her in. She had hoped he would look worse after spending two nights in a cell.
“That’s not why I’m taking my time,” she said, not hiding her accusing tone. “Forgive me for contemplating whether or not I want to confront my neglectful sire.”
Cato flinched.
“Does that bother you, Cato?” Ellea slowly walked to his cell, stopping a few feet from his reach. “I would bet you and Cerce play my torture sessions on repeat, reminiscing on your favorite pastime and then cursing your failed heir—”
“I’m the one that failed you.” He stood quickly, towering over her and interrupting part of the speech she’d worked so hard on.
He stood half a foot above her, and his gray eyes glimmered.
Were those tears?
She pressed the thought back. Her father’s eyes had always glowed bright. Their ethereal shine sometimes haunted her dreams, always watching, never reaching a hand to help her.
“I have failed you since the day you were born,” he whispered. “No, I failed you the day I fell for your mother’s tricks.”
She scoffed. “Says one of the tricksters.”
“It’s one of our curses.” He huffed a harsh laugh. “We’re too gullible sometimes, and someone always seems to slide in when we aren’t looking. How could someone out-trick one of the most powerful beings?”
He let out another harsh laugh and sat back on the hard bench, the only thing in the cell.
“What are you getting at?”
“You mother—”
“That bitch is not my mother,” Ellea hissed, leaning into the bars.
“Cerce,” he corrected, “was lying the whole time; about her love, how we met…and as soon as you were born, as soon as she had something to hold over my head, she came out and told me the truth. Proud of all she had accomplished, she didn’t leave a single detail out.”
Cato threw up his hands dramatically, and Ellea couldn’t help but flinch. His jaw ticked again.
“I’m sorry. I did what I could, but she had something else to hold against me besides you.” He hit his head on the wall. “Cerce had a vision when she was in her teens of meeting a great trickster who would change the world. So she began hunting me down; it took her years since I was so reclusive, so afraid after a lifetime of torment. Once my parents were murdered, I hid my powers and lived among mortals. I often wondered if her constant hunt, constant visions of her own future, drove her mad. She was such a talented actress, knew all the right things to say, to do, and I was such a fool. I lived a miserable and lonely life until her. It was so wonderful to have someone accept me for who I was and care for me.”
What was this bullshit? Her powers churned, full of uncertainty. She felt the shadows churn with it, ready to pull her back.
Her father cleared his throat. “I was so starved for love, starved enough to make a stupid vow without realizing what I had done. One would never go against the other, we would love and support one another no matter the circumstance. Fucking bitch cursed our wedding ceremony. The vows we spoke were a blood vow, and I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”
He was lying.
But it sounds so like Cerce.
Ellea tried swallowing, but her mouth had gone dry. What did any of this mean? What did it matter?
“I kept telling myself ‘As long as you were alive, as long as you were whole—’”
“Whole! I was anything but whole.” She swallowed a sob, turning away from him. “I was a scared child, fraying along the edges, and I would have rather died than go through what I went through.”
She stumbled back as the words left her mouth, and the surrounding cells grew dark as Ros’ shadows crept in further, curling around her legs. She took their strength and turned toward her father, standing taller.
“You may have been dragged into a false marriage, but I had to live through her torture, her ruthless hunger for power, and I will never, ever forgive you or her.”
Ellea turned away, ready to leave him behind.
