The nerve of the woman. "You're nothing but a fly, and you dare run your mouth at me?”
"Don't you know? I'm a duchess.” She tilts her head. “Do you speak like this to other women of my rank?”
I want to tell her other duchesses don’t earn their titles on their back, but I don’t, because that wouldn’t be true. In most couples, one of the pair marries up, either thanks to their riches or their beauty.
“The fact that I can't wield magik is all you can see. Your bias could cost you your crown, you know. For every demi, you have a hundred if not a thousand common subjects. Greater kings than you were toppled by those they saw as lesser.”
My pulse races, and I grasp the arms of my chair to hold myself back. How dare she? She's nothing. She's…
Common.
She's common, and that's why I think she's nothing. I can't come up with another reason. Which means that she's right.
Sure, she's a terrible excuse for a parent, but so was my father. He barely spoke to me once a year, and sent servants to beat me when he decided I deserved a reminder of where I stood in the hierarchy of our family: at the bottom. And she does use her beauty as an advantage, but who doesn't in my court? Even I can be accused of such manipulation.
The entire reason for my disdain of this woman is the fact that she is common, and therefore, inferior.
Her pointing it out bothers me, although I know I've always held such beliefs. They just feel flimsy, when she brings them to light.
Maybe because her common daughter bore the full weight of my power and shrugged it off a day ago. I can't wrap my head around it. They are supposed to be weak.
How would you know?
I've never associated with any common for long enough to form an opinion of them. For a time, I just went with what I was taught to believe. Then, I truly started to hate them because I know the soldiers who hurt Moira had common blood. Even as a child, I could sense the difference between them and one of us.
I generalized, and the scholar in me dislikes the lack of proof and research to come to a conclusive opinion.
"I see more than your filthy blood, Duchess. I see you're smart enough to beat the odds, but have no moral compass. You have many skeletons in your closet, and you don't care. I see that you took one look at me in the garden and decided I'd be a wonderful prize to add to your achievements. You want me for your daughter because you think that reflects on you. You're a megalomaniac, and I don't doubt that if I had you investigated, I'd find you guilty of countless crimes." I pause and watch her stare at me with a steady, unbothered look that tells me everything I said was on the money. "I also see you thought you were doing the right thing, getting rid of the girl," I allow, to return her honesty. "And you might have."
"I did," she replies evenly, pouring herself another pot of tea. "You're sure you don't want a cupcake? They're delicious."
"I don't eat sweets." I never understood the mainlanders' fascination with confections.
"Your loss." She takes another bite, and moans in delight.
I grimace uncomfortably. She looks far too similar to Helyn, and barely older.
I hate that her appearance affects me more than I care to admit.
"Anything you can give me, Neleda." I stand. "You're an ambitious and ruthless soul. Surely you understand the value of a king owing you a favor."
I fully expect her to take the offer.
In a way, I'm not entirely wrong.
“She’s proud, my daughter.” Neleda smiles. “Proud of who she is, though it doesn’t mean much to you. And that’s why nothing you can do to her—nothing I ever did—will break her.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
MEMORY LANE
There's no one in the den. I don't find a single soul on the rooftops of my old neighborhood, my crew’s territory.
I parked the speeder at the edge of the undercity, uptown side, across the canal, and took my usual path through my town, if only because I miss it. And I didn't see the shadow of a soul.
The surfaces, usually spotless, courtesy of Khel, are covered by a sheen of dust. Either the crew had to move, or worse, they could have been arrested.
They could be dead.