Page 53 of The Never Queen

“And what did she have to say about it?” Vane asks.

Hansel set the empty glass aside and rocks forward, his elbows on his knees. “That my daughter is a disgrace, a great dishonor to the Order, and that she would do everything in her power to undo my mistakes.”

25

WINNIE

I’m running from the house before I fully understand why. Before I can question whether or not I should even be on my feet.

I don’t feel injured. I don’t feel ill or tired.

Hansel’s words are echoing through my head and burrowing beneath my skin like sharp slivers.

My daughter is a disgrace…

…a great dishonor…

Tears are spilling down my cheeks.

My mother always told me she didn’t know who my father was, that it didn’t matter anyway, because was he there with us? No. From the moment I was old enough to understand, I believed that my mother and me, us Darling women, were not only cursed, but unwanted. And so that meant I had to fend for myself. That I too, could not need.

I didn’t want to need love or compassion or kindness. Because in the end, the person I needed most would always disappointment me.

It started with the father I never knew and kept right on going with the mother I had, who was never there when I needed her. Most of all when she was searching for a way to protect me from Peter Pan, unwilling to confront the fact that the pain she was trying to protect me from was happening by her own hands, one bloody sigil at a time carved into my flesh.

All of the trauma, the burdens, the disappointments come bubbling up to the surface and I’m crying so hard, I can barely see.

But I keep going. I need to run. I need to go. I need distance.

The fae don’t want me as their queen because I’m not good enough for them.

And the Witch Killers want me dead because I’m a disgrace.

Because who would want Winnie the Whore ruling over anything?

No one is stupid enough to think I have any value or worth. Most of all me.

Tree branches catch in my hair, slowing me down. I’m deep into the woods when I hear Bash calling my name.

I slow.

There are no lampposts here and not much light pollution from the nearby city. Only the moon filters through the trees, casting a silver glow on the ground.

“Bash?” I call and swipe at my face.

He’s making his way toward me from the opposite direction.

“Winnie,” he says and huffs out a laugh. “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry. I…I can’t…Hansel…what he said —”

“Shhh.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders and envelopes me in pine and cloves. “Come on. Let me help you.”

We start walking but his pace is too fast, and I nearly trip over my own feet.

“Bash…I’m sorry. I think I need to be alone and?—”

“It’s okay. You can talk to me.”