Page 60 of The Forsaken

There wouldn’t be a nursery for her. A glassy film built behind her eyes. That fate belonged to all the McQuoids and Smiths but her. Tonight marked her last night in London. At least, for…for however long, she could not stay. Three days earlier, she returned home from her work for her uncle and discovered the latest note on her pillow with demands for the Crown of Dionysus and a threat on Edgar’s life. That’s when Andromena decided enough was enough.

It hadn’t even been guilt that drove her to quiet. It was her asserting control of herself and the situation.

Before Andromena left for Myrtle’s private ball, she had packed her things and left them below her bedroom window.

It was the only thing that made sense.

Andromena’s departure was a silent reclamation, not a retreat, as she denied the monster the very prize he craved: her agency, and through her, the stolen treasures he sought. No longer would she bend for a monster. He thought he could use her as a key to the stolen fortunes he craved, starving her of agency while he schemed for control. She would break his power over her. She told herself this to keep from crying. In separating herself from London, her family, and Edgar, she was honoring her blackmailer’s orders, denying him access to her, and most importantly, keeping him away from those she loved.

Before the blackmailer’s demands took a darker turn, she entertained sharing everything with Edgar. If she confided in him, their fragile truce would shatter. He would go right back to insulting her. But in the end, he would still come to her rescue—or what he called a rescue, as if it were his duty. After all, that was what he had done time and time again.

Now she had no choice. Their roles had completely flipped: his survival now depended on her, just as the fate of everyone she cherished did.

“Don’t cry, Aunt Andy. It’s not hopeless. Try for that one.”

She wanted to go back to a time when ‘hopeless’ over games and contests was the greatest worry she had.

Andromena nodded at her spillikens partners. “That is a very good idea, Frost.”

“Now, you’re going to cry?”

This time, the echo of Edgar’s annoyance at her crying didn’t enrage or hurt; it drew a soft, sad smile. She would miss him. The crusty cur. Except, this week, he hadn’t been a crusty cur, which made her planned flight all the more painful. Despite his vow to steer clear of her, he’d seemed to make a point of visiting the earl’s antiquities room. Granted, he did so to see the inventory list she’d created and analyze her sketches…and also express frustration she never had images of the stolen pieces, and also appreciation…

“…You have a gift, Andromena…” he murmured, right before she thought he would kiss her—again.

A gift he had called it.

A gift, used for evil.

That had been the last time she spoke to him, and ever would.

Small fingers tugged her off-shoulder puffed sleeve like a tower bell. “Aunt Andy, you aren’t paying attention.”

Eira’s proper scolding cleared her head. “I was thinking.”

“We were giving you suggestions.”

She brushed the loose curl that always hung across the little boy’s forehead. “Not about that.”

Brother and sister asked together: “About what?”

Andromena pushed herself up into a seated position, drew her knees close, and wrapped her arms around them. “About how much I would love to be in the nursery.”

“You are.” Frost’s brow pulled with a fleeting seriousness. “Ow!” The lad glared at his sister. “What was that for?”

“She doesn’t mean now, you clodpole. She means, she wishes she could go back in time.”

With big brown curls, a shade to match her mother’s, Eira could be, if not Myrtle’s twin, a replica of the spirited girl she had been years earlier. Back when they’d been wee lasses dreaming of their first balls and whispering about the charming princes they would one day marry.

Myrtle had found all that, and more. And Andromena…

Andromena never would.

“If I could go to a ball, I would never be in a nursery with all the babes,” Lady Eira Bancroft muttered.

“I used to think that, too.”

Big brothers being what they were, Frost delighted in pointing out, “You’re in the nursery because you’re a babe, Eira.”