while I was under the thumb of people who thought my main purpose in life was to follow their orders and hold up the family name and… Frankly I still don’t care what the hell my family does with the rest of their lives as long as they leave me and the people who looked out for me alone. I just wanted to get away from all that crap.”
Emeric was silent. When I finally glanced up at him again, he was staring at me, looking almost… horrified? My stomach sank.
He’d fought for his family, for the reapers, and sacrificed half an arm in that loyalty, even if he’d turned his back on them after. Maybe he didn’t understand after all.
“What the hell are you even doing here then?” he said abruptly, sounding so angry I flinched.
“You’re the one who said I’d be right for the job,” I pointed out, my fingers digging into the bedspread. “Who else would the reaper families have cared about impressing? If I didn’t go, then they might have completely screwed Rory and the others over, after all the ways the barons have been there for me… And it still took me way longer than it should have to decide. I wanted to know I could be more than a turncoat and a coward. Although in the end it seems like those features have been the most useful parts of me even on this mission.”
My mouth slanted tightly with that last admission. Emeric was still staring. My eyes started to burn. I glanced away, dragging in a shaky breath. “I wasn’t trying to pretend to be anything else with you. I just wasn’t going to go out of my way to announce all the details out of the blue, and you only mentioned it now and then, like a joke— If I’d known it would matter to you—”
“It does,” Emeric said, still in that odd voice, though it’d stiffened now too. “It matters a lot.” He stood up, took a step back, and then seemed to remember he’d need his shirt.
My throat constricted with the longing to apologize, but I had no idea what I’d even be apologizing for. “Emeric—”
“You’ve said enough,” he snapped, wrenching his shirt back over his head. “I’ve got to go.” And then he was striding out of the room without any further explanation, the door banging shut in his wake.
I gaped at it for several seconds before the full force of the rejection slammed into me. The tears that had threatened seared from my eyes. I tipped over on the bed, curling my knees up to my chest, and sobbed like I hadn’t done since I was thirteen years old.
I didn’t know if I was crying only or even mostly over Emeric’s apparent disgust. All I knew was that whatever I’d come here to do, I obviously hadn’t done anywhere close to enough.
Chapter Eighteen
I’d finally gotten hungry enough to decide it was worth leaving the sort-of sanctuary of my hotel room in search of dinner when my secret phone pinged with a text from Noah. I hesitated and then dug it out of its hiding place.
Join me for pizza? I’m starved for company. Also, you still owe me either a meal or a pic of that costume, little cauliflower.
My mouth twitched with the start of a smile despite myself. Maybe things didn’t have to be totally weird between us. If he could chat that flippantly with me, why should I fret about past events?
I exhaled in a rush, my shoulders coming down, and typed out my answer. Since you insist. I’ll be up in five. P.S. What’s the French word for broccoli, because obviously you need a nickname too?
All I got in response was a laughing emoji.
I tensed up again as I knocked on the door to his room, but Noah’s grin when he welcomed me in set me back at ease. “If you want a retaliatory nickname, I think you have to do better than riffing off of mine,” he said with an amused gleam in his bright brown eyes.
The pizza box was already sitting on his table. Perched on the windowsill, Kato was clutching a thin slice in his black paws, eyeing me as he gnawed at it.
I willed away all memories of the last time I’d sat down there and wandered over to a chair. The raccoon’s gaze followed me warily as if he thought I might steal his meal, but he didn’t budge from his perch.
“I don’t