Shadow Queen - By Deborah Kalin Page 0,58

my cheeks behind a curtain of hair.

‘Have you forgotten what he did to you?’ she demanded.

‘Of course not!’ I snapped back, anger and guilt spurring me to meet her gaze. ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten. But I have to move on. You’ve said as much yourself.’

‘I see,’ she said.

‘Frankly,’ I added defiantly, ‘I don’t need to justify myself to you. What does it matter whether I’m on good terms with my husband or not? Unless you’re worried he’ll like me more than you.’

That struck home. Anger narrowing her eyes to slits, she rose to her feet and made as if to speak, but couldn’t seem to summon the right words. In the end she gave up and stalked to the door.

Swinging around when she reached it, she pinned me with a glare. ‘You know what I think? I think you like to play the victim. Poor, piteous Matilde. But you choose your traps. Consciously and consistently, you take the path that makes you powerless. Look at you now! You were nearly free of him. You had all the pieces so carefully gathered – the Skythes loyal to you, Dieter lulled into thinking you weren’t a threat, the drightens thinking you conquered. You even had me!’ she said, her voice cracking.

Her hurt was too raw, too fierce, and the apparent depth of her feelings for me were too shocking – I couldn’t answer her.

‘So what do you do? Destroy it all! Otherwise you might actually have to own your decisions and their consequences. And that’s harder, isn’t it, than everyone knowing you never had a choice?’

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she raised a hand to dash them away.

‘Damn you,’ she choked, her voice drowning in her throat, ‘I would have kept you safe!’

Then she fled, the door banging in her wake, leaving me standing with one hand lifted towards her.

I tried to summon all the reasons why her words shouldn’t hurt. If she thought my choices weak and snivelling, so be it. Being underestimated had been my aim, after all. She had bedded me on a whim and in an attempt to win a bet, and even if she had found some affection for me in it, that didn’t mean I should let my own morals unravel. What I’d done last night was right by all of us, even Amalia.

None of it, however, soothed away the sting.

Gerlach appeared seconds later through the door. Though he had to have seen Amalia fleeing, her face flushed with emotion, his expression was neutral. His presence felt so familiar and surprising at the same time that I struggled against a sudden urge to weep. Instead, I tucked away my hurt until my face was as blank as his.

‘Are you well?’ Gerlach asked.

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘No knives this time.’

Weak as the jest was, I expected a smile in response. But no twitch or ghost of mirth touched Gerlach’s expression, even briefly, making me acutely conscious that I was standing before him in nothing but my shift, my hair uncombed and my face unwashed. I was conscious, too, of how loud Amalia’s voice had been. How much did Gerlach know?

Swallowing the urge to offer explanations, I turned away. Behind me, the door closed quietly. Whatever Gerlach thought of me, he would do right by his lord’s wife.

TWENTY-THREE

BY THE TIME I dressed and emerged from the bedroom, the breakfast Amalia had brought was gone and in its stead stood a replacement. By the foods chosen – fresh bread and cold meats – I guessed the tray to be Gerlach’s work.

Too queasy to eat, I could only pick at the food, pondering my next move. When at last I dared to emerge into the corridor, Gerlach turned his all-seeing gaze on me and asked where I was going.

‘To my husband.’ What else was left? At least I might see the drightens’ reactions for myself.

I let Gerlach walk ahead of me so he couldn’t see my face, pale after my illness and the exertion even a slow walk caused me. By the time we turned in to the council chamber, my lungs were burning with the effort.

Dieter perched straight-backed on a couch, Roshi kneeling at his side as he parried with Helma and Rudiger Somner simultaneously. After a quick look up at my entrance, Roshi bent her head and stared into her lap.

The seven drightens who’d arrived thus far were gathered in various stages of recline on a loose circle of couches. I wondered what Grandmother would have