“Indeed, I am,” he replied, oblivious to her sarcasm.
“The good news is, I’m here for you, Becka,” Hanna said, leaning towards her, eyes full of hope.
Becka shot Hanna a side-eye. “Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it,” Hanna replied.
“Okay…”
“No really, I’m drenched in your emotions right now. It might be easier for me if you could try to temper things?” Hanna’s suggestion hung in the air for a few moments, her raised eyebrows and expectant smile frozen in anticipation.
Becka shrugged and shook her head. “You know, some people find my blunt honesty endearing.”
Hanna’s expression fell, her lips pursed in a slight frown. “As you say.” She turned to Alain. “I need you to give Becka some space.”
Thank the gods!
Would she get a reprieve from Alain? Perhaps Hanna wasn’t as bad as Becka had feared.
“I have been giving her a wide berth, Hanna,” he replied, his back ramrod straight.
“And now you will give her even more space. For the time being, you will only interact with Becka at times I deem fit. Preferably also when I am present.”
Alain clenched and unclenched his jaw. This wasn’t the outcome he’d been hoping for. “As you say, cousin.”
Becka placed her glass on the table and rose to leave. “Alain, Hanna, as fun as this conversation has been, I’m afraid I need to call it a night.”
They both rose.
“It was wonderful to see you again, Becka. I look forward to working with you.” Hanna inclined her head in respect.
“Working with you?” Becka replied. “What do you mean?”
“Why, I will help you to identify your blocks to joy and find ways to move past them.”
Becka half-expected Hanna to give her a brochure with that phrase embossed on the cover. She was frankly too worn out to argue further.
“Fantastic. I can’t wait,” Becka replied, hearing the sarcasm in her tone she couldn’t quite seem to keep out. “Good evening.”
“Fair evening, Becka. Until we speak again,” Alain said.
Becka gave them a quick nod and then fled the room, Saige and Luce close on her heels. She feared what Hanna mean by “support.” Yet Becka was grateful for the reprieve from more tedious time with Alain and the further delay of their engagement. She hoped working with Hanna wouldn’t be as tiresome as she feared.
When they arrived at Becka’s quarters and were safely behind closed doors, Saige and Luce walked through the room, searching for anything out of place.
A piece of paper lay on her bed, which Luce picked up, read, and then held out to her. “It’s your itinerary for tomorrow, from the duchess.”
“What’s it say?” she asked, knowing Luce had already scanned it.
“It lists a council meeting for you to attend in the morning, an afternoon tea party with Hanna and other ladies of the court, and then a pre-dinner meeting with your aunt, Elder Alaetha.”
Becka didn’t look forward to the meeting with Alaetha, fearing how Vott’s sister would view the niece who’d accidentally poisoned her own father.
“It’s the new schedule she promised,” Becka replied. “I almost wish the poison had worked.”
Luce waved it in the air towards her, a wisp of a smile on her lips.
“Can you leave it on the sofa table?” Becka replied. “I’m crashing. Please inform whoever swaps out with you to let me sleep in.” Not even bothering to change her clothes, Becka flopped down onto her bed, exhausted.
She heard the guards whispering, but it soon faded into blackness as sleep claimed her.
Chapter 9
The night’s restless sleep left Becka feeling slow and groggy. Her guards had swapped out overnight, and although Shamus and Lorelai had come in to check on her when her breakfast had arrived, they’d politely stepped out when she’d asked.
Becka tried to sleep in, but there was too much on her mind fighting for attention for her to fall back asleep. The room echoed memories back to her. Before Becka had returned to House Rowan, this had been her sister Tesse’s room. But before that, it had been her room. Even before that, it had belonged to an aunt who’d long since married and moved to another territory. Becka wasn’t sure of the provenance of the space before that.
When she’d first inherited the room, Becka had updated the bedding, added a few pictures, and had picked out the forest green couch everyone liked to sit on. After it went to Tesse, her sister had added the divan and the roses lining the wall of windows and changed out a couple of the portraits on the walls.
Becca’s sole change this time was adding a painting of Tesse in her bedazzling engagement gown. She was a specter of ageless beauty and power and a constant reminder of the event that had brought Becka back to House Rowan: Tesse’s murder. Becka had hung the portrait on the wall across from the divan so she could look upon and remember her sister from the furniture Tesse herself had added to the room.
Her sisters, Ingrid and Sigfrid, thought the painting morbid and had encouraged Becka to overhaul the space to invite in fresh memories. Becka had flatly refused. She wanted to remember Tesse. Besides, she liked the amalgamation of styles that her space represented. And more than anything, she wanted her first and last thoughts of the day to remind her that, if she wasn’t careful, a Shadow-Dweller might kill her just like they’d killed Tesse.
Now, after her discussion with Maura the day before, Becka wondered how well she’d known Tesse after all? From Maura’s description, Tesse had been not just an illusionist prodigy but also a model daughter, following in her footsteps with gusto. But the Tesse she had spoken to during their secret conversations had loved hearing all about Becka’s wild experiences in the city, so much so that she’d often wondered if Tesse would have preferred being there with her. It was impossible to know her sister’s inner thoughts and it wasn’t like she could ask Tesse now. Based on the general adoration Rowan had toward Tesse, Becka had to conclude that her sister was indeed an exemplary fae.
She could imagine Tesse wouldn’t be pleased with Becka’s slow reintegration into House Rowan or her persistent refusal of Alain. Her sister might have found Becka’s insistence on holding onto her city clothes and pink hair amusing, but she would have had a strong opinion. Becka wanted to do right by Tesse’s memory, but how could she do that while remaining faithful to her unique identity?
Becka had resisted the notion of stepping into Tesse’s shoes despite being thrust into the role. Not only did it smack of imposter syndrome, but Becka hadn’t felt like she truly belonged. Perhaps she’d been thinking of it all wrong? Would Tesse have wanted Becka to step into her shoes?
Exhausted and moody, Becka didn’t want to seek out her schedule any earlier than required, so she lay down on the divan with the Shadow-Dweller book Quinn had brought her to test. Oriani, her sister’s gold-and-brown tabby with a golden sheen to his eyes, joined her, at first demanding scritches under his chin before he took up a position curled around her toes. Paging through the book, Becka took a sip from a bottle of hot sauce to forestall the headaches that kicked in whenever she encountered something magical.