Page 13 of Roma Queen
I turn around, stooping to collect a couple of pieces of firewood from the wicker basket next to the log burner. The metal handle hums with warmth as I open the small grate to the front of the burner and I toss the logs inside, stoking the fire with the length of steel piping that’s propped up against the wall, clearly being used as a poker.
“Zara’s presence here is non-negotiable,” I say. “She won’t be going anywhere, and neither will I. Not for the next forty-eight hours, anyway.”
“If you’re going to be crowned—”
“Ihaveto be crowned.”
She looks shocked. She blinks a couple of times before she says, “I’m glad to hear that you’ve seen the light. Everyone else will be thrilled, too. Can I ask what changed your mind?”
My teeth feel like they’re about to crack as I slam the grate on the burner closed and I face her again. “Is there anything you want to tell me about my banishment? Any…” I shrug my shoulders. “Any pertinent information about mycrimeyou might have skipped over at the time?”
“Please, Pasha. Grow up. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Liar.
Liar.
Liar.
The accusation pulses through me with every beat of my heart. “Well. Three years was a pretty long banishment. For ending a rapist’s life. For protecting the children of the clan.”
Shelta rolls her eyes. “Jesus. I really did spoil you too much as a child, didn’t I? Three years is nothing. You were free to go wherever you wanted. You could do whatever you damn well pleased. What do you think your sentence would have been if you’d been tried in agadjecourt of law? They would have thrown you in a prison cell, locked the door behind you and thrown away the key.”
“Would they have done that if I hadn’t actually killed anyone?” I ask. I wait for it. The shadow in her eyes. The stunned expression that flits across her face. The moment where I see the truth: that sheknewLazlo didn’t die at my hands at all. The moment doesn’t show itself on her face, though. It’s her hands that give her away. They both reflexively curl into fists, my mother clenching so tight that her knuckles turn white and bloodless. Aside from this tell, her composure remains entirely intact. She’s a fucking professional at this. If I’d blinked, if I’d missed the moment when she’d tensed, then I might even believe she didn’t know Lazlo survived when she says, “Pasha, I’m not sure what the point of this conversation is, but youdidkill a man. You were responsible for someone’s death, and you were punished according to our traditions and our beliefs. That’s all there is to it.”
“If thatistrue, then please. Enlighten me. How the fuck could Lazlo have broken into a Russian mob boss’ house two weeks ago, stolen a five-year-old little boy andmurderedhim? AND HOW THE FUCK COULD HE HAVE JUST KIDNAPPED KEZIA?”
My voice echoes around the gathering hall, sounding more and more furious with each repetition. Shelta staggers back, white as a sheet. “What? What the hell are you talking about? He can’t have kidnappedKezia. That’s not possible.”
Her muttered statement tells me so much. She didn’t deny again the fact that two people who were supposed to be dead are very much alive. She didn’t deny that she’s been lying to her son and her clan for fuckingyears. She also doesn’t seem surprised that a little boy has been taken and then murdered. The only thing she appears taken aback by is the mention that somehow LazlohasKezia.
Zara narrows her eyes at Shelta, taking a step forward. “You knew, didn’t you? When I came to the fair and I asked about Corey, you knew that piece of shit had him.”
Shelta unleashes a scathing bark of laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Or you at least suspected. That’s why you kept that print out of Corey. You wanted to ask your own questions. Find out for yourself.”
My mother has maintained the illusion that Zara isn’t even here since we walked into the gathering hall, but now she lets the pretense slip. She rounds on her, her eyes narrowing into hate-filled slits. “You do not come here and speak to me like that. You do not even address me.Get out.”
Many people would falter under such livid scrutiny. Many have, myself included, when I was much younger. But not Zara. She straightens up, returning Shelta’s gaze, and huffs down her nose. “You could havedonesomething. You could havesaidsomething. Even if it was only suspicion, you could have acted. You could have saved him, but you didn’t. You threw me out, and that little boy died. His blood is onyourhands.”
Zara is judge and jury. She is righteous hellfire, and she’s raining down on my mother’s head. Shelta just stands there, gaping at her as if my glorious, amazing, awe-inspiring Firefly has just appeared, materialized out of thin air, and has the audacity to speak to her like she’s something unpleasant she’s just scraped from the bottom of her shoe.
“You might think you know him.” My mother’s eyes dart to me, sharp as knives; they flit right back to Zara. “But you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into right now. You don’t have the first clue how complicated any of this is. And if you think you’re safe here, just because Pasha brought you here, then you are sorely mistaken. It doesn’t matter what he promised you. It doesn’t matter if he swore he’d protect you. You’re not welcome here, and you will feel just how keenly I mean that very soon. My advice to you—”
“You can keep your advice. I don’t need it.”
My mother’s head jerks back; her eyes are wild, filled with a stunned fury that, in all my twenty-eight-years on this planet, I have never seen on her face before. Twin spots of red form high on her cheekbones. Once again, she looks at me, flustered, and I realize that the woman’s embarrassed. She’s fuckingmortifiedthat I was here to witness this. For fuck’s sake. The woman really is deluded if she thinks I still see her as some kind of all-powerful deity who must be respected and obeyed. I haven’t obeyed her for a long time now. I’ve respected her for far less than that.
I stifle a laugh as Zara steps toward Shelta. There’s a fight brewing in my Firefly’s eyes, and I am seriously fucking glad I’m not on the receiving end of her burning gaze; Shelta shifts uncomfortably as the redheadedgadjethat I’ve broken all the rules for arrives in front of her.
“You’re right. I don’t know much about your son, but I do know this. I care about him. I’m attracted to him. I’ve been…” She looks up at the ceiling, shaking her head. “I’ve been finding my way to him for a long time. I want him, and I’m not going to allow anyone, least of allyou, come between me and what I want. That goes for my career, too. Yeah, that’s right. I found your littlegift.” Zara slides her hand into her pocket and pulls out a small piece of card: it’s The Empress. Gold leaf catches hold of the gathering hall’s light and burns in Zara’s hand for a second. The next moment, the tarot card that went missing, just as my grandmother predicted before she died, is floating down to land at Shelta’s feet.
My mother staggers back, unsteady, as if the tarot card’s about to explode and take her out at the ankles. “What the hell are you doing?” she hisses. “Why the hell did you bring that back here?”
“It belongs to you, doesn’t it?”
Shelta kicks the tarot card away, and The Empress skids across the floor of the gathering hall, disappearing underneath a large set of mahogany drawers. “Once it left my deck, it could never come back. The card’s tied to you now. It should be with you.”
