Page 124 of Rook of Ruin
“It’s the worst time of the month.” I open my eyes as Callan tells Simon. “That’s what our sisters called it,” he says to me.
Ugh.
Dimples greet my face, and Simon brings me into a large hug, but I’m not sure why he is this excited—this is horrible. After all these years of not having my cycle thanks to asterlyn, I cannot say I’ve missed it. I begin to shake, and the cramping makes my knees buckle.
I lean against Simon, and he picks me up, kissing my sweaty forehead. He smiles softly at me, and Callan watches him. “Thank you, brother.” I snuggle into Simon’s chest as he begins moving down the stone hallway.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” I call out to Callan, who seems to be frozen to the spot, but then a large smile goes across his face.
Sweat drips down my back, and the stupid weed I’ve been chewing to alleviate the cramping has not been helping. Every bump the royal carriage hits makes me angry. I slide down my seat and begin to unbutton the clasp of my leathers. I’m bloated, sweaty, and hormonal. However, leaving the castle has changed Simon, as if the weight of the world has lifted off his shoulders.
“I know you are miserable, but we will be home shortly.” Simon’s sympathetic eyes make me want to scream. “The healer said a few weeks, Orlaith, and then you will get back to a normal schedule.”
“I know what the healer said. I was there.” My jaw clenches as my stomach pulses with pain. Tears drip down my face for no reason. “I’m miserable. I’m so miserable.”
“I know.” Simon moves to give me a hug but retreats when I glare at him. “Hells, O.” He chuckles. “I’ve not known you to be so—”
“Bloated? Sweaty? Grouchy? I’m bleeding so much, I’m surprised I haven’t fucking died,” I huff out.
“I was going to say beautiful,” Simon mumbles and stares out the window, but his dimples don’t recede.
My eyes throw daggers at him—I’m spoiling for a fight. If Ossian were here, it would be a war of tongues. But I wouldgladly punch him in the nose. “Are you going to tell me who that woman was?”
Genuine surprise fills Simon’s face. “What woman?”
Jealousy coats my tongue. “The one at the ball. The one you were so enamored with. Lady—” My hormones are all over the place, and another steady stream of tears comes down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
“Orlaith.” He says my name like one would when comforting a child. “Lady Glimmon means nothing to me.” Simon goes back to staring out the window.
I wipe away the salt water flowing from my eyes. “You are lying to me.” I canfeelthe lie. It reminds me of how I could feel the emotions in the Locker, but it became more pronounced after Ossian went through my mind.
Simon doesn’t bother to meet my gaze. “I’m not lying. Shedoesn’t. At one time she did, but as I’ve said before, no one else matters before us. She fucked up my life, and I hate her for it.”
“At one time,” I repeat. “Was she the one?” Simon doesn’t respond, and the truth hits me in the gut. “She was the one. She was the one you offered your life for? You could have told me.” His brown eyes flicker to me and back out the window. I feel my breath taken from my body. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I can’t speak about it. Part of the life debt I made. I can’t even tell you why.” He doesn’t bother to hide his annoyance, equally as upset as I am, but he is still lying. I can tell. Why is he lying to me? What exactly is he lying about?
“With whom did you make the life debt?” I watch his face closely. I’ve never outright asked.
Simon finally looks at me, his brown eyes full of pain and sadness. I want to comfort him, but I make no movement.
He sneers, “Do you know what Vetter is?
“I know that he—”
“Threatened me? Yes.” Simon flicks his wrist in dismissal. “Vetter is fae. Like Lady Glimmon.”
I sit up straight, very interested. They do exist. The prisoner—washefae? He had slightly pointed ears, not very pointed . . . Lady Glimmon and Vetter don’t look like the fae in my mother’s painting or the ones in my books.
Confusion fills me. “But they don’t have pointy ears."
Simon laughs. It’s not jolly; it’s like he is making fun of me, and I’m instantly embarrassed. I curl my legs up under me.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “They can hide their ears or change their appearance using a glamour. Most people think fae are the stuff of fables.” His lips curl. “I assure you, they are not, and they are fucking dangerous, deceitful bastards. Vetter probably took Milo as a life debt, and now it is our responsibility to keep him safe. Who knows what he would have done to that child if you hadn’t helped. Fucking fae.” He punches the top of the carriage.
I realize I never told Simon Milo is Vetter’s son. I just . . . didn’t. I assumed he knew by looking at Milo. I see so much of Vetter in Milo, and I wonder why Simon can’t. Perhaps there is a glamour on Milo? The thought has me reeling.
Looking out the window, I try not to show my guilt. I’m the one keeping all the secrets. If Simon doesn’t know, I can’t tell him—I won’t tell him about Milo. Vetter is right; I will do anything to protect Milo. My heart breaks into a thousand pieces at another one of my betrayals.
