Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,11
mask. Screw my false persona.
Burning him with a glare, I rise to my feet. But as I face him, my chest heaving, I know not what to say. I’ve shared my side of the story once before. I’ve said my truth. I cried, I bared my bleeding heart. And what was I met with? My own family, both my father and my eldest sister, Marnie—two people I loved and expected to love me back—responded with disgust. Not disgust at the situation or the man who brought scandal to my life, but with me.
I was abandoned by the one who swore to love me, and yet I was at fault for giving away my virtue. I was responsible for my demise. My ruin. My pain. I was responsible for what the people were saying about me in the streets. I shamed the family, destroyed our precious prospects.
Father holds my gaze, lips pulling into a smirk. In this moment, he looks more like a demon than the father of my childhood. Gone is the kind, loving man whose eyes would crinkle when Mother made him laugh. All that’s left of him is a cold, unfeeling husk. And right now, he knows I have no defense against him. He knows I can only seethe and glare and squeeze my fingers into fists.
“You’d do well to behave, my daughter,” he says, taking a slow step forward. “If you’re caught in another scandal, I won’t protect you.”
I bite out a sharp laugh. “Oh, because you protected me so well before.”
“I did, Gemma.” His words are calm, quiet. There’s so much conviction in them that I know he must believe it’s true. “You are too willful to know when gratitude is due. We could have stayed in Bretton. I could have let you be forever known as the harlot who seduced the princess’ fiancé. Instead, I brought you here for a fresh start. If it weren’t for my change of fortune with the quartz mine, we never would have had the chance.”
He’s right about the last part, at least. We never would have had the means to relocate if it weren’t for the enormous cache of quartz discovered on one of Father’s properties mere months ago. It happened just as the scandal reached its summit and allowed him to make a deal with the Winter Court. He gave the court exclusive rights to the quartz in exchange for a hefty salary and citizenship of Faerwyvae—a rare privilege, I’ve come to learn, for humans must be personally escorted through the magic barrier by the fae in order to set foot on the isle.
Still, he didn’t bring us here to save me. He did it to save himself. His precious reputation.
“Say thank you,” Father says through his teeth, “and return to your seat.”
There’s something else I want to say to him, and it sure isn’t thank you. It’s a four-letter word and comes with a rude gesture—
“We are grateful, Father.” Nina leaves her chair and comes to my side, entwining her fingers with mine. “Gemma is grateful.” She looks up at me, her eyes round and pleading. She hates when Father and I fight, and I hate that stupid sweet face she makes at me when we do. It always softens my heart and she knows it.
At least it gives me a chance to cool my nerves before I say something I’ll regret. Push Father too far, and I have no doubts he’ll strip me of my allowance and marry me off to the first taker. Not even the highest bidder.
No, I need to secure my financial independence first. Then I can tell him to piss off.
A trickle of sweat slides down the back of my neck as my eyes continue to burn with rage. Schooling my features behind a mask of subservience, I bow my head. In my mind, this is all pretend. I’m not myself but one of the governesses in my books. In the first book of the series, the governess is forced to play the part of the well-behaved pupil to avoid the wrath of her evil schoolteachers. That’s all this is. Pretend. I can play pretend.
I keep the story fixed in my consciousness as I say, “I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done, Father. I deeply apologize that I fail to show it.”
When I meet Father’s eyes, he purses his lips. I can’t tell if he buys my act, but he makes no argument. Instead, he waves his hand at my chair, and