A lone guest is lumbering down the main staircase. She looks up and sees me just as everything inside me freezes.
“Talia? Good Gods! Talia, is that you?”
I stop breathing and keep walking. There’s a pause in Griffin’s step, and I hope the woman bearing down on us from the side doesn’t notice. My very pregnant cousin Helen waddles remarkably fast. She must have been in one of the bedrooms this whole time because she wasn’t downstairs until now. I would have seen her.
“In Castle Sinta of all places!” she exclaims. “Just wait until I tell everyone I’ve found the—”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, finally turning to her. “Do I know you?”
She looks taken aback and then laughs. “Very funny. We grew up together. Aarken tortured us both.” She leans in and says confidentially, “Can’t blame that fish for eating him.”
I look confused, or at least I hope I do. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”
She frowns. “It’s me, Helen. I got away, too. I didn’t cause nearly as much of a stir as you did, of course. I had to get married to do it.” She grimaces, rubbing her enormous stomach. “My parents said it was a good enough alliance, and Uncle Dimitri seemed pleased, although we all know what his opinion counts for.” She rolls her eyes. “You know, these Sintans really aren’t that bad once you get to know them.” She looks unapologetically at Griffin. “Pardon my saying so, Your Highness.”
Griffin arches an eyebrow in a very successful expression of condescending astonishment, and if she weren’t Helen Fisa, I think she might have fainted. As it is, she’s very sure of her own worth and doesn’t give a damn what Beta Sinta thinks. I always liked Helen.
“I’m afraid we’ve never met. Enjoy the party, and good luck with the baby.” I walk away. It’s too bad. Helen was one of the few people who didn’t make me miserable, and we never tried to kill each other, which makes us allies of a sort.
Her voice echoes behind me, far too loud in my ears. “What’s wrong with you? I know you! Talia, wait!”
I slowly turn back around, Griffin tense at my side and an unwanted audience for this charade. Helen followed. She’s calling me out, and I see the exact moment she realizes she should have let me go. She pales, her eyes widening as she slides a protective hand over her swollen belly.
Mother is convinced that I’m just like she is, or that I’ll at least end up that way. My greatest fear is that she’s right, which is why I’ve never altered anyone’s mind. If I take that small step, if I use compulsion to force Helen to back off to preserve my secrets and send her on her way, what’s to stop me from taking the next step, and the next, until I’m slaughtering puppies, terrorizing children, and killing on a whim?
I stare at my cousin, hearing Mother’s insidious whisper in my ear, “It’s nothing, Talia. Just this once…”
Helen and I stare at each other. Her eyes grow more fearful, and her whole being seems to curl around her unborn child. I have no violent impulse. I feel compassion. I feel a need to reassure and protect, and in that moment, I finally understand that I will never be my mother.
Heaviness lifts from me. My heart feels weightless in my chest, and for the first time in my life, I am surrounded by air and by light.
I breathe again, not having realized I’d stopped. “Your husband must be looking for you.” I look pointedly at Helen’s midsection in what I hope is a nonthreatening way. “And worrying over your health.”
The stress in her eyes eases, as does her protective stance. “Thank you, Your Highness.” She curtsies—beautifully, of course, despite the state of her belly—and then doesn’t waste a moment crossing the empty room and disappearing into the guest-filled garden.
My heart sinks. I glance fearfully at Griffin, but he doesn’t seem to register anything amiss, at least not with that last part of the conversation, and I realize he already sees me as a princess—his princess. He doesn’t know that Helen would never genuinely defer to anyone but Fisan royalty. In her mind, she can count on one hand the people that outrank her, and I’m one of them.
“How does she know you’re the Kingmaker?” Griffin asks in a low voice.
“What?”
“You interrupted her before she could say ‘the Kingmaker.’ How does she know?”
That’s not what Helen was going to say, and if it were in me right now to laugh hysterically, I would. “We were children together. It wasn’t a secret in Castle Fisa.”