Falak had pressed his lips into a hard line, and deep lines scored his brow. His nostrils flared, working like an angry bull. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough. “I take it their experiments were fruitless.”
Genevieve laughed, but it was cold, hard, and ugly. “She’s gained nothing, and I lost nearly everything.”
“How?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve met monsters who wore masks of kindness and gentility before, but Tereza...” My mind spun, trying to rectify the princess’s confession with the beautiful empress who had extended such kindness to me. But Jackie and Ruelle Thibodaux had also worn masks of refinement to cover their depravity. Even Lord Daeg, to some, must have seemed a great and generous master.
“Her conviction, her belief in the righteousness of her cause, overrules any guilt or shame she might have. She’s so beautiful and generous because she’s utterly convinced she’s doing the right thing for our family and for the future of Bonhemm.”
“But she’s not sacrificing herself,” I said. “She’s sacrificing you—her own sister. She should be protecting you, but instead she’s destroying you for her own gains. How can she not see?”
She bared her teeth and snarled. “Not everyone can be so honorable as you, Evie. So upstanding, so self-sacrificing.”
“I didn’t mean—”
She slashed a hand through the air, cutting me off. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want apologies or excuses. And sure as the Shadowlands, I don’t want your pity.” She stiffened her spine and raised her chin. “I got away from there. I made a plan, and I escaped. You can send me packing, Falak. But I’ll be damned if I go back to the castle with my sister and her vile sorcerer.”
The ringmaster snarled. “Let her bring her armies. You belong to this circus now, Genevieve. You’re ours, and we don’t easily let go of what belongs to us.”
The princess raised a hand to her mouth. Tears rose in her eyes, trembling there without spilling. “You...” She gasped. “You believe me?”
“Who would make up such a lie?”
“I’ve been accused of it before.”
Falak sneered. “I told you I’m not like everyone else.” He threw his shoulders back and looked down his nose at us. “I think we’ve all had enough for one night. Get to bed, ladies. You have a long day of work and practice before you tomorrow. I might be sympathetic to your situation, but I don’t give charity.”
With that he collected his lantern, spun on his heel, and strode away. Svieta, still clutching my cloak like a beloved pet, grabbed the other lantern and trotted after him. Saying nothing, I looked at Genevieve and studied her, searching for a clue about what reaction she wanted from me. She’d bared her emotions to the same extent as someone who had opened their skin, exposing nerves, veins, and muscle. She was undoubtedly raw and hurting, and any further interaction with her would require finesse. Like a wounded animal, she returned my stare with a harsh gaze, as if waiting for me to make the wrong move so she could attack.
I was smarter than that, though. Instead of saying anything, I simply nodded.
She narrowed her eyes into a wary expression, but she nodded back.
I mimicked Falak’s decisive departure, spinning on my heel and striding toward the costumes wagon. Moments later, she climbed the stairs behind me, and we fell into our beds without another word.
Genevieve dozed off right away. The hours of work and practice followed by a kidnapping, a harrowing confession, and the emotional release of being believed must have taken a toll on her. In the silence of our little room, I listened to the rhythm of her heavy breathing as my thoughts drifted to Gideon and Marlis. I’d left them, trusting in the safety and protection of Prigha’s castle and its inhabitants. After Genevieve’s revelations, however, my confidence in their security had dissolved. Would Tereza use them as leverage to reclaim her sister if she suspected I was complicit in the princess’s escape?
My heart ached as though some invisible fist had clenched around it and squeezed. Was this what it would be like to be queen—having few options, most of them being bad, but having to choose one anyway while hoping for the fewest casualties? A little voice whispered in my ear, condemning me for leaving Gideon and Marlis behind to save myself, but my father’s words drowned it out. “A ruler cannot afford to doubt herself,” he’d said. “She must be decisive, always. She must choose a path and commit to making it work.”
I’d chosen this path, and regardless of my worries for Gideon and Marlis, I had to make it work.
But that’s so much easier said than done.
Chapter 18
Genevieve had already dressed and left our wagon by the time I awoke the next morning. After collecting a bucket of water from the cook wagon, I met the princess at the back door of the menagerie cart that Adaleiz and Mika were now calling home. Dark, puffy bruises underscored her eyes, and sweat dampened her shirt collar. Mika stood beside her, sides heaving. “You went riding?” I asked.
She nodded. “I woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Besides, Mika needed the exercise.”
I unlatched the wagon door and Adaleiz scampered out, eager to stretch her legs and nibble at a patch of roadside grass. Inside the cart, I poured water into the horses’ pails and opened a bag of feed, though if Adaleiz wanted to graze, I’d let her. The roughage was better for her than grain alone.
“If we really are going to be on the road long-term,” I said, “we’ll need to figure out a way to feed them better. They need hay.”
“And fresh air and sunlight.”
We had made a regular routine of letting them out to graze in the evenings, but leaving them out all night risked attracting predators and thieves. The time I might have spent with Adaleiz was now dedicated to Sher-sah. Again, I wondered how something as simple as catching a ride with a circus to Varynga had become so complicated so quickly.
We let the horses wander as long as possible, but when Gepennio’s cook wagon shuddered to life, we hurried to put Adaleiz and Mika away. The rest of the morning we worked and washed in silence. If the princess wanted to discuss the previous night’s revelations, I was open to talking, but I left it to her to bring it up. As the day passed, however, she never mentioned her sister or Otokar. Not that I blamed her. Yesterday she’d opened a wound that would undoubtedly be slow to heal.
That night, at dinner, Genevieve and I joined Bashaya and her snake. Without prompting from me, the princess greeted the snake charmer and they fell into a conversation of quiet mutterings, which I presumed was about our discovery of the emerald ring.
Bashaya’s dark eyes flashed to me before glancing at Genevieve. Her mouth had gone rigid, lips pressed together in a thin line. She leaned forward, and her shoulders and back were stiff. Despite not understanding her words, I understood her anxiousness.
“She says she’ll meet us tonight,” the princess explained, “at our wagon after everyone’s gone to bed. Once we give her the ring, she’ll tell us what she knows about the animals.”
I studied the snake charmer, and she returned my stare, her eyes hard and glittering like polished jet. “How do we know she has anything to tell us we haven’t figured out for ourselves?”
Genevieve translated my question and Bashaya replied, her voice a low whisper like a hiss from her snake.
“She says her information is good. We will be satisfied.”
“It’s not like we have much choice,” I said. “Sometimes we have to give trust to get trust.”
The princess snorted. “Whatever that means.”
After supper, Genevieve and I hurried to the riding ring before anyone could come looking for us. We practiced riding parallel with each other, she on the back of her unicorn and me on my lion. I’d found a pair of black leather knickers and leather slippers in a costume trunk. The change in attire improved my progress. I managed to keep my seat without slipping and sliding, and by the end of the night, I’d gained enough courage to attempt standing on Sher-sah’s back as he tiptoed around the ring.
“How many more days until we reach Barsava?” I asked.
“Five days.” Falak stood outside the ring between two torches, evaluating our progress, offering opinions, suggesting improvements. “Then we’ll take a day to set up tents and lighting and such.”
