“I’m starving, Cecil.” I pulled out a circular packet, thumbing it experimentally. It looked promising. “We haven’t had breakfast yet. I have a hankering for a grilled cheese.”
“Ooh. Grilled cheese. Look at me, I’m an American, and I need a grilled cheese,” he said snarkily. He popped me in the back of the head with his hoof. “Get out of the way. I’ll make you a croque monsieur.”
I batted him away, exasperated. “I don’t want a fancy French sandwich, Cecil. I need comfort food, and I want melted cheese on toast.”
He head-butted me angrily, narrowly missing me with his horns. “You will have a fancy French cheese sandwich if I have to shove it down your throat! Violet!” He whinnied loudly. “Help me out here. She needs to get used to being treated like a queen.” He smacked me away from the fridge with his hooves. “Make her sit down.”
My House gave a little shake, the walls making a funny snickering noise. I gave up and sat down at the table, my eyes drifting automatically towards Donovan. “Any word from Cress and the others?”
As usual, he stood at the window, looking out onto the cityscape of San Francisco. “They are returning now.”
“I take it from your gloomy tone they’re not dragging Audrina with them.”
“No.”
“Damnit.” I put my head in my hands, worry and panic making my stomach churn. “I could put up with Jessica’s nastiness if I knew Audrina was safe.”
To my surprise, Donovan left his brooding spot by the window and slid into the seat at the table next to me. “I do not see why you have to put up with her insulting you in the first place. I understand you prefer diplomacy over violence, but—”
“If there’s a woman who deserves a smack in the face, it’s her,” Cecil chipped in.
I sandwiched my face in my hands. “The guilt kinda hobbled me at the time. Audrina’s been abducted, and it’s all my fault. And to be honest, I’m getting whiplash from all the perspectives I keep seeing.”
“Here. This will help.” Cecil slid a cup of espresso in front of me and another one in front of Donovan. He took a sniff, lifted the cup, took an experimental sip, and grimaced.
I raised a brow, inhaling the steam from my own cup gratefully. “Not a coffee lover?”
“We do not have this beverage in my realm. I have not had it before.” He took another sip; his brow furrowed as if he were furious at it. “It is hot and bitter.”
“Like me,” Cecil quipped, hauling a giant leg of ham out of the fridge.
“Elaborate on your statement for me, Chosen.” Donovan’s eyes bored into me. “What do you mean? What perspectives?”
I was still getting my thoughts together, but maybe it would help if I spoke them out loud. “First of all, the old Susan would have given Jessica a verbal smackdown the likes of which you’ve never seen, and I wouldn’t have even thought twice about it. I would have been confident that I had assessed the situation correctly and acted accordingly. But”—I sighed—“in the last two years, I’ve been seeing reality through a different lens, where I was wrong about everything. I couldn’t trust my eyes or my brain to act properly. It’s damaged a part of me, and I’m still trying to fix it.”
Donovan took another sip of his coffee. This time, he didn’t grimace. “How does this relate to your dealings with the Songbird’s mother? You have always known how awful she is.”
“Yes, but I’m still doubting myself. While she was screeching at me, I kept seeing Jessica through a lens that didn’t fit. I kept thinking that maybe she’s being so nasty because she’s worried about her daughter, and she just wants to get her back. I mean, I know for a fact that Jessica despises Audrina, and she’s only worried about what it will do to her image if something terrible happens to her. If she was—” I hesitated and swallowed the lump in my throat. “If Audrina was hurt or arrested, it might go public because her parents are both pseudo-celebrities here in San Francisco. People in her social circle would wonder why Jessica never mentioned she had a daughter in the first place. And as soon as any photos of Audrina leaked, they’d realize Jessica was hiding her away because she was embarrassed, and it would ruin her image of being a good mom.” I took another sip of my coffee. “I know all that for a fact, but I kept thinking that Jessica was only being horrible to me because she’s worried for Audrina. I was giving her too much credit.”
Donovan nodded thoughtfully. “And that is why you didn’t gut her like a pig and dance in her heart’s blood when she was screaming at you.”
I paused, frowned, then shrugged. “Sure. That’s why. My point is I’m still not confident in how I’m assessing situations. I’m still trying to get back to the person I was before, but there’s a lot of anger I have to process first, and it’s hard to get a handle on it.”
“I understand.” Donovan leaned back in his chair, the picture of languid grace and power. “The lady Bronwyn said I have to process my anger at my parents. But I do not feel any anger towards them, because it is my duty to obey them. She insisted that it was there, just buried deep. I must draw it out and wrangle it into submission.” He drained his little coffee cup and slammed it down on the table. “Cecil. Another.”
Cecil, dancing around one of my four ovens, moving so fast I could barely see him—cutting a hunk off an enormous wheel of cheese and stirring a little pot on the stove at the same time—huffed out a chuckle. “You’re the boss, boss.”
Donovan nodded towards me. “You must do as Lady Bronwyn says. Draw out your anger and wrangle it into submission. Focus it on those who wronged you.” His deep emerald eyes suddenly glowed with a dangerous intensity. “Then we will flay the skin off your ex-husband’s body.”
“Ooh. Save it for me, I need a new winter coat.” Cecil spun a spatula in the air and flipped my sandwich in the pan. Butter sizzled, wafting a gorgeous scent towards me. “Vincent’s an asshole, but he’s a gorgeous asshole with great skin. Although, wait until the bite marks I gave him heal. I don’t want any holes in my new leather.”
I suppressed a smile. “Let’s call that Plan B. And besides, it’s not him I’m angry at.”
Donovan pounded a fist on the table. “Chosen! You must take your vengeance. Otherwise, how will you process your anger?”
I eyed him suspiciously. He was being uncharacteristically expressive. “Have you ever had caffeine before?”
“I have deliberately ingested many poisons in my lifetime. I am immune to most toxins. Now, answer me. Your husband betrayed you. You must vanquish him at some point since you have forbidden any of us from taking his head on your behalf.”
“Well.” I gnawed on my lip, trying to put it into words. “Of course I’m angry at him. Vincent made me believe I was mentally unstable, and it completely destroyed my confidence. Now that I know I was right all along...” I trailed off, finally voicing the thoughts that had been niggling at me. “I’ve been really angry at me. I’m angry at myself for doubting me. I’m pissed that I let myself get hoodwinked. That’s what I’m feeling right now, Donovan. I’m not mad at Vincent. I’m mad at myself. I don’t think I can let myself process the anger I feel for Vincent until I’ve dealt with how mad I am at myself.”
“I understand.” The table started juddering; Donovan was restlessly jiggling his leg up and down. “Is this what your epiphany is about?”
“In part, yes. Cecil’s smoking reminded me about something. See, I used to smoke—”
“Gah!” Cecil threw a spatula at me. “You hypocrite!”
I plucked the spatula out of midair and set it down on the table. “And I used to love it so much. There’s nothing quite like having the first cigarette of the morning with your coffee. The pleasure I used to get from having a cigarette after sex, in that hazy, loved-up post-coital glow…”
Donovan leaned forward, his eyes darkening.
My belly burst into flames.
A long moment passed as I struggled to reign in the hot feeling in my core. I blushed and looked away, trying to focus. “My point is, I used to love smoking. Having a glass of wine and a cigarette, going out for a cigarette break, waking up and having a coffee and a cigarette. That deep inhale of your first drag.” I rubbed my chest. “It’s so satisfying. There’s nothing else like it.”
“Yasss,” Cecil said, flipping the sandwich in the pan again.
“But, when it became common knowledge how bad smoking is for you”—I leaned out of my chair to direct my words at Cecil—“because of cancer.”
