Simon shrugged a shoulder. “But somebody said noooo. Told me I couldn’t have any fun.”
“That’s not how it happened at all, and you know it.” She wagged her fork at him for once. But she was smiling.
Bertha was the next to walk over. Then Louis and Elena. Even Anastasia, in her long and furry morning coat, came up to talk to her. Keeping her distance, the Diva eyed Cora warily. “Are you trying to save our lives, Contortionist?”
“I am.”
The arch of a delicate and disbelieving eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because you’re my Family. Because I care about you all. There is love, and life, and joy to be found in this place. And…” She paused.
After a long moment, she finally worked up the nerve. Cora said the words it took her what felt like an eternity to really accept were true. She looked up at Simon and smiled. He offered her an exhausted one in return.
“And because I belong here. This is my home.”
Fear felt good. But that felt good, too.
10
Simon watched as the small gaggle of Family members peppered Cora with questions. They asked everything that he could have guessed they would want to know—all the whats, whens, whys, and wheres of their situation.
And Cora, exhausted and broken-down as she clearly was, dutifully answered them all. Ringmaster betrayed them and was slowly killing the Faire. Clown used to be in charge many years ago but was betrayed. There was no Mr. Harrow, and there never was. She even described in detail what had happened to them inside the tower.
Everything except one detail.
The “demise” of his shadow.
That bit she kept to herself. Claimed she agreed to redouble her connection to Harrow Faire in order to free them. It wasn’t wrong…it just wasn’t the entire truth.
He’d be proud of her if he weren’t just a little annoyed with her decision to spare Ringmaster. She should have ended Turk, right then and there, in front of the entire Family.
But no. She had to be noble. Do the right thing.
It was irritating.
Oh, he understood why she had done it on a surface level. But beneath that, it rubbed him the wrong way. She had a chance to end it all. Sure, everyone would be terribly upset with her, and likely try to stage a coup, but there wasn’t anything they could do to stop her. So why bother trying to get them on her side?
Morals.
Screw morals.
They were pesky things. Not worth the trouble. He sipped his orange juice, listening to the conversation wind along. He was rather glad that he viewed “honor” and “dignity” with the same disregard as he had prior to his trip into the tower. Part of him had expected a change.
It seemed he was wrong about the nature of his disembodied shadow on all counts. He worried that with his “death,” all those bloody feelings of compassion and sympathy would have rushed back into him.
Happily, that was not the case. He felt just as wonderfully cynical as he had ever been.
Cora wanted to hold a vote. He kept his scoff internal. How adorably naïve and sweet of her. She still cared what the others thought. Hopefully, she’d let that pesky part of her die sooner rather than later.
Speaking of wanting to die. He cracked his neck right and then left and grunted at the painful pop that was significant enough to jar his vision.
“You all right there, Puppeteer?” Aaron raised an eyebrow at him.
“Three weeks by my ankles, Barker. I know it’s difficult for you—and you might not be capable of any other kind of inquiry—but do try not to ask stupid questions.” He stabbed at the food on his plate with his fork in lieu of Aaron. “I am very tired.”
“Tell me about it,” Cora mumbled as she wiped the back of her forearm against her forehead. “But I think all the blood is finally dry now.”
“Oh, shit.” Aaron grunted and stood. “You two need to go get some rest and clean up. We’re being selfish.” He shooed the rest of the group away. “Go on.”
Simon stood from the table and groaned as everything in his body creaked and popped. It would be nice to take a shower and get some rest. “Finally. Most of the idiots are gone.”
“What he means to say is ‘thank you.’ I just don’t think he knows those two words can go together.” Cora got to her feet as well, wincing. She looked as though she might fall asleep on her feet. Not just from physical