Page 58 of The Forsaken
“They are. My uncle—”
“I’m talking about the fools who sailed the seas. When our families became connected, we shared our documentation. I saw their scrawling’s.”
Andromena laughed. “That is a fair descriptor of their sketches. But I cannot sail with them.”
“Why?”
That brought her up short.
Edgar arched one of his sleek eyebrows. “They don’t feel they’re able to keep you safe? Actually, forget that. I know the answer.”
She searched his beautiful face. “You’re…being serious.”
“I’m disappointed.”
“With me?”
“From a woman who sneaked out to a masquerade, around Ermine Street, the Rookeries, and God knows where else, I haven’t already found you; you haven’t even thought about voyaging the seas.”
“I love England,” she said, her voice small and defensive.
“I do, too,” he replied. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t love all the places I’ve seen and explored.”
“Well, I never wanted to leave.”
“You never wanted to leave—or you never thought about it because your family and society told you it wasn’t allowed.”
Andromena drew back, the words hitting her like a cold splash of water. Myrtle had attended finishing school. Cassia and Linnie had both taken control of their own fates and saw the world. Then there was Andromena. She had no control over her life or happiness. Both felt as distant as the foreign places Edgar claimed she was missing.
He wasn’t near done with her. “By your earlier logic, the artifacts you insist should be left to lay where they were created, would never be seen.”
Her throat tightened. “H-How dare you?”
Edgar, who had gone back to studying her work, lifted his head and looked around, as if searching for the person who had offended her.
She knew by his frown, the moment he realized he was the source of her upset.
Andromena grabbed for her pad.
He dodged her efforts.
Tears burned her eyes.
His black curse filled the museum-like space. “Why are you crying?”
She sniffled. “Now?”
He exploded like a defiant boy. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it. You’re always thinking it.”
Edgar snatched a hand through his unkempt curls. “Because you’re always weepy with me.”
“Then don’t give me reasons to cry.”
His pallor went death white.
Andromena couldn’t stop herself. “Y-You praising my art,”
