“She cut open your stomach?” Finn furrowed his brow with concern.
“Yeah.” I pulled up my shirt, revealing the scar that stretched across it.
Immediately after I’d done that, I regretted it. Lying on the floor and flashing Finn the fattest part of my body did not seem like a good idea.
Finn crouched on the floor next to me, and tentatively his fingertips traced along the mark etched on my belly. My skin quivered underneath his touch, and nervous warmth spread through me. He continued to stare intently at the scar, then he laid his hand flat on my belly, covering it. His skin felt hot and smooth, and inside, my stomach trembled with butterflies.
He blinked and, seeming to realize what he was doing, he pulled his hand back and got to his feet. Quickly I pulled my shirt back down. I didn’t even feel that comfortable lying down anymore, so I sat up and fixed my bun.
“Matt saved your life?” Finn asked, filling that semi-awkward silence that had shrouded us. He still had a contemplative look on his face, and I wished I knew what he was thinking.
“Yeah.” I got to my feet. “Matt always protected me, ever since I could remember.”
“Hmm.” Finn looked thoughtfully at me. “You bonded so much more with your host family than the changelings normally do.”
“‘Host family’?” I grimaced. “You make me sound like a parasite.”
Then I realized that I probably was. They had dropped me off with the Everlys so I would use their resources, their money, their opportunities, and bring them back here. That’s exactly what a parasite did.
“You’re not a parasite,” Finn said. “They loved you, and you genuinely loved them in return. It is unusual, but that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s a very good thing. Maybe it’s given you a compassion that Trylle leaders have been lacking for a very long time.”
“I don’t think I’m very compassionate.” I shook my head.
“I see how it bothers you the way Elora talks to people. Elora thinks the only way to command respect is to command fear, but I have a feeling that you will have an entirely different way of ruling.”
“And how will I rule?” I arched my eyebrow at him.
“That is for you to decide,” Finn said simply.
He ended our lesson after that, saying I needed to rest up for tomorrow. The day had exhausted me, and I was eager to curl up in my blankets and sleep until Sunday, straight through the ball and all the angst that accompanied it.
Sleep didn’t come easy, though. I found myself tossing and turning, thinking about the way it felt dancing with Finn, and his hand resting warmly on my stomach.
But I would always end up thinking of Matt and how much I still missed him. I had expected that to lessen the longer I was here, but it only seemed to get worse. After all this, I really needed to know that someone had my back and cared about me unconditionally.
I woke up early the next morning. Actually, I’d been waking up all night long, and at six I finally just gave up. I got up with the intention of sneaking downstairs to grab a bite to eat, but when I hit the top of the stairs, Rhys came barreling up them to meet me, chomping on a bagel.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” He grinned, swallowing down his bite.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I shrugged. “You?”
“Same. I have to get ready for school soon anyway.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned back against the stair railing. “Are you worrying about this Saturday?”
“Kind of,” I admitted.
“It is pretty intense,” Rhys said, his eyes wide. I nodded noncommittally. “Is something else bothering you? You look pretty . . . upset, I guess.”
“No.” I shook my head and sighed, then sat down on the top step. I didn’t feel much like standing anymore, and I wanted to cry. “I was just thinking about my brother.”
“Your brother?” Something flashed across Rhys’s face, and slowly he sat down next to me. He seemed almost breathless. At first I didn’t understand, but then it dawned on me.
This must be so weird for Rhys. His whole life he had known that this wasn’t his real family, and it wasn’t even the same as being adopted. His family hadn’t wanted to give him up. He had been stolen, and not even by a family that had wanted him. They had just wanted me to have his life.
“Yeah. I mean . . . your brother, actually,” I corrected myself, and it felt painful saying that. Matt would always be my brother, no matter what our genetics were.
“What’s his name?” Rhys asked quietly.
“Matt. He’s pretty much the nicest guy in the whole world.”
“Matt?” Rhys repeated in an awed tone.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He’s the bravest guy ever. He would do anything to protect the people he cares about, and he’s completely selfless. He always puts everybody else first. And he’s really, really strong. He’s . . .” I swallowed and decided that I couldn’t talk about him anymore. I shook my head and looked away.
“What about my mom and dad?” Rhys pressed, and I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Dad died when I was five,” I said carefully. “My mother took it pretty hard, and, um . . . she’s been in the hospital ever since. For psychiatric problems. Matt and my dad’s sister, Maggie, they raised me.”
“Oh.” His face contorted with concern.
I suddenly hated Kim even more. I knew that she had done everything because she loved Rhys, but that didn’t make her actions any less inexcusable. I didn’t have it in me to tell him what she’d done or that she’d never be able to have a life with him because she’d always be locked up.
“I’m sorry.” I placed my hand gently on his, to comfort him. “It’s hard to explain how I know it, but your mom really loved you. She really wanted you. And I think she always hated me because she knew I wasn’t you.”
“Really?” There was something hopeful and sad in his eyes when he looked at me.
“Yeah. It kind of sucked for me, actually.” I smiled wanly at him, and he laughed.
“Sorry about that.” Rhys smiled back at me. “I guess I’m too hard to forget.”
“Yeah, I guess you are,” I agreed. Rhys moved his hand so it was actually holding mine.
“So what about this Maggie? What’s she like?” Rhys asked.
“She’s pretty cool. A little overly attentive sometimes, but cool,” I said. “She put up with a lot of crap from me. They both did, really.” I thought about how strange this all was, that they weren’t my family anymore. “This is so weird. They’re your brother and your aunt.”
“No, I understand. They’re your family too,” Rhys said. “They loved you and raised you. That’s what family is, right?”
I had needed someone to say that to me for so long, and I squeezed his hand gratefully. I still loved them and always would, and I just needed that to be okay.
“Wendy!” Finn came down the hall, still dressed in his pajamas. Instinctively I pulled my hand back, and Rhys stood up. “What are you doing?”
“I just woke up. We were just talking.” I looked up at Rhys, who nodded in agreement.
Finn glared at us both, and I felt like we’d just been caught robbing a bank.
“I suggest you get ready for school,” he said icily.
“Yeah, that’s what I was doing anyway,” Rhys said, then smiled down at me. “I’ll see you later, Wendy.”
“Yeah, okay.” I smiled back at him.
“What are you doing?” Finn hissed, glowering down at me.
“I already told you,” I insisted and stood up. “We were just talking.”
“About what?” Finn asked.
“My family.” I shrugged. “What does it matter?”
“You cannot talk to him about your host family,” Finn said. “Mänsklig cannot know where they come from. If they did, they would be tempted to track down their families, and that would completely ruin our entire society. Do you understand that?”
“I didn’t really tell him anything!” I said, but I felt s
tupid that that hadn’t occurred to me. “I missed Matt, and I just said stuff about how neat he was. I didn’t tell Rhys where he lived or anything like that.”
“You have to be more careful, Wendy.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.” I didn’t like the way he was glaring at me, so I turned and started walking down the hall toward my room.
“Wait.” Finn grabbed my arm gently so I would stop and look at him.
He took a step closer to me so he was right in front of me, but I was trying to be mad at him, so I refused to look at him. I could still feel his eyes on me and the heat from his body, and it did little to help me maintain my anger.
“What?” I asked.
Finn lowered his voice. “I saw you holding his hand.”
“So?” I said. “Is that a crime?”
“No, but . . . you can’t do that. You cannot get involved with a mänsklig.”
“Whatever.” I pulled my arm from his grip, irritated that the only thing he ever thought about was his job. “You’re just jealous.”
“I am not jealous.” Finn took a step back from me. “I am watching out for your well-being. You don’t understand how dangerous it would be to get involved with him.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered and started walking back to my room. “I don’t understand anything.”
“That’s not what I said.” Finn followed me.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” I countered. “I don’t know anything.”
“Wendy!” Finn snapped, and grudgingly, I turned back to look at him. “If you don’t understand things, it’s because I didn’t explain them well enough.”
He swallowed hard and looked down at the floor, his dark eyelashes falling on his cheeks. There was something more that he wanted to say to me, so I crossed my arms, waiting.
“But you were right.” He was clearly struggling with the words, and I watched him carefully. “I was jealous.”
“What?” My jaw fell open, and my eyes widened with surprise.
“That does not affect the job I have to do, nor does it change the fact that you absolutely cannot become involved with a mänsklig,” Finn said firmly, still looking at the floor instead of at me. “Now go get ready. We have another long day ahead of us.” He turned around and started to walk away.
“Wait, Finn!” I called after him, and he paused, half looking back at me.
“The matter is not open for discussion,” he replied coolly. “I promised I would never lie to you, so I didn’t.”
I stood in front of my bedroom door, reeling from his confession. For the first time, he had actually admitted that at least some of his feelings for me had nothing to do with the job at hand. Yet somehow I was supposed to forget all that and go about as if everything were normal.
EIGHTEEN
intimidation
I spent a long time getting ready, still making sense of what Finn had told me. It thrilled me that he cared enough to feel jealous, but I also realized how pointless it was. He’d never do anything that conflicted with his sense of honor and duty.
Even with me taking so much time, Finn never came to get me. Eventually, I perched at the top of the spiral staircase to wait for him. I thought about going down to his room, but I didn’t really feel comfortable with that. Besides, he’d probably send me away.
From the top of the stairs, I watched in surprise as Tove Kroner pushed open the front door. He hadn’t knocked or anything, and he raked a hand through his messy hair, looking around.
“Can I help you?” I called down. As Princess, I felt like I ought to be hospitable, even if I felt flustered and confused as hell.
“Uh, yeah. I’m looking for you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to the bottom of the steps, but didn’t go any farther.
“What for?” I wrinkled my nose, then, realizing I’d sounded rude, shook my head. “I mean, I beg your pardon?”
“Just to help.” Tove shrugged.
I walked slowly down the stairs, watching his eyes search the room. He never did seem comfortable looking at me.
As I approached him, I took in the soft natural highlights coursing through his dark hair. It was long and unruly, hitting just above his shoulders.
His tanned skin had a subtle mossy undertone, the green complexion that Finn had told me about. Nobody else had skin like that, except maybe his mother, but hers was fainter than Tove’s.
“Help me with what?” I asked.
“What?” He’d taken to chewing on his thumbnail. He glanced up at me, still biting it.
“What are you here to help me with?” I spoke slowly and carefully, my tone bordering on condescending, but I don’t think he noticed.
“Oh.” He dropped his hand and stared off, as if he’d forgotten why he’d come. “I’m psychic.”
“What? You can read minds?” I tensed up, trying to block him from reading any of my thoughts.
“No, no, of course not.” He brushed me off and walked away, admiring the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “I can sense things. And I can move things with my mind. But I can’t read your thoughts. I can see auras, though. Yours is a bit brown today.”
“What does that mean?” I crossed my arms over my chest, as if I could hide my aura that way. I didn’t even really know what an aura was.
“You’re unhappy.” Tove sounded distracted, and he glanced back at me. “Normally it’s orange.”
“I don’t know what that means either.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how any of this is supposed to help me.”
“It’s not really.” He stopped moving and looked up at me. “Has Finn talked to you about training?”
“You mean the Princess training I’m doing now?”
“No.” He shook his head, chewing the inside of his cheek. “For your abilities. It won’t start until after the christening. They think if you had any handle on them before you were indoctrinated, you’d run wild.” He sighed. “They want you calm and docile.”
“This is you calm?” I raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“No.” Tove stared off at nothing again, then turned back to me, his green eyes meeting mine. “You intimidate me.”
“I intimidate you?” I laughed, unable to stop myself, but he wasn’t offended. “I’m the least intimidating person ever.”
“Mmm.” His face hardened in concentration. “Maybe to some people. But they don’t see what I see or know what I know.”
“What do you know?” I asked gently, startled by his confession.
“Have they told you?” Tove eyed me again.
“Told me what?”
“Well, if they haven’t told you, I’m certainly not going to.” He scratched at his arm and turned his back to me, walking away and looking around the room again.
“Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s not helping,” I said, growing frazzled. “You’re only confusing me more.”
“My apologies, Princess.” Tove stopped moving and bowed at me. “Finn wanted me to talk to you about your abilities. He knows you can’t start your real training until after the ball, but he wants you to be prepared.”
“Finn asked you to come over?” My heart thumped in my chest.
“Yes.” His brow creased with confusion. “Does this upset you?”
“No, not at all,” I lied. Finn had probably asked Tove over so he wouldn’t have to deal with me. He was avoiding me.
“Do you have questions?” Tove stepped closer, and I was once again struck by the subtle green tinge to his skin. On a less attractive guy it might’ve been creepy. But on him it managed to look strangely exotic.
“Tons,” I said with a sigh. He cocked his head at me. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of, you know.” Tove watched me closely, and I think I might’ve preferred it when he was scared to look at me.
“I’m not afraid.” It took effort not to squirm under his gaze.
“I can tell when you lie,” he said, still watching me. “Not
because I’m psychic, but because you’re so obvious about it. You should probably work on that. Elora is very good at lying.”
“I’ll practice,” I muttered.
“That’s probably for the best.” Tove spoke with an intense sincerity that I found disarming. His disjointed insanity even had its own charm. He looked down at the floor, his expression turning sad. “I rather like you this way. Honest and flustered. But it’d never work for a Queen.”
“No, I don’t suppose it would,” I agreed, feeling a bit melancholy myself.
“I’m a bit scattered too, if you hadn’t noticed.” He gave me a small, crooked smile, but his green eyes stayed sad. With that, he crouched down, picking up a small oval stone off the floor. He flipped it around in his hand, staring down. “I find it hard to stay focused, but I’m working on it.”
“So . . . not to sound mean or anything, but why did Finn want you to help?” I rubbed my arms, hoping I didn’t upset him by asking.
“Because I’m strong.” Tove tossed the stone aside, apparently tiring of it. “And he trusts me.” He looked back at me. “So let’s see what you can do.”
“With what?” I asked, confused by the abrupt change of subject.
“Anything.” He spread his arms wide. “Can you move stuff?”
“With my hands, yeah.”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not a paraplegic, so I assumed you were physically capable.”
“I can’t do much. Just persuasion, and I haven’t used it since I’ve been here.”
“Try.” Tove pointed to the chandelier dangling above us. “Move that.”
“I don’t want to move that,” I said, alarmed.
An image flashed in my mind. The painting I had seen in Elora’s room, all dark smoke and red fires around broken chandeliers. Except the image in my mind seemed much more vivid, as if I could smell the smoke and see the fire raging, casting new shadows in the painting. The sound of glass shattering echoed in my ear.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, taking several steps back from the chandelier. I hadn’t been underneath it exactly, but I wanted to get farther away.
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