insinuation that I won’t.
Andrei just laughs. “You can fool the rest of the world, Baron, but you can’t fool us.”
I hold my hands up. “What, exactly, is it that you think I’m trying to fool you about?”
“You love her,” Celeste says.
I scoff. The warm air bounces off the inside of my mask and rushes up my cheeks. “It’s long past your bedtime.”
“Admit it, and I’ll go to bed.”
“I will not admit anything of the sort,” I reply. “And your obsession with making me is childish.”
“You don’t need to admit it,” Andrei says. “It’s as clear as day.”
“Is that so?” I stand up from my chair. “She’s in her room. Fetch her right now and take her down to the basement.”
“Baron,” Celeste begins.
I don’t let her finish.
“Enough,” I state. “She can’t be trusted. I’ve been too kind to her. I’ve indulged her. Spoiled her. She’s become my weakness, and I won’t have that. Our work here is too important.”
Andrei glances over at Celeste, who gives him an encouraging nod, and then once again leaves the room to do my bidding.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” she states.
I laugh at her. “Incorrect. In fact, this could be the first time my thoughts have been straight since we set foot in that shit-heap circus tent.”
She lets out a sigh. “You will lose her. She’s not your…”
“Say it,” I dare her.
She says nothing.
“Do not begin what you don’t intend to finish.”
“She’s not your mother,” Celeste snaps back, her eyes turning cold.
There’s a long moment while the statement hangs in the air between us. We don’t speak of such things. Ever.
“You are indeed correct. A fascinating observation, if ever there was one.”
Celeste rolls her eyes. “Mark my words, you will lose her.”
I shake my head, slowly. “She’s already lost me.”
27
Sapphire
I don’t know how long I’ve been down here.
Hours?
Definitely.
Days?
Maybe.
I don’t know.
I’m not really sure about anything.
If it was Baron’s intention to have me lose my mind, then I’m entirely convinced it’s working. Not that I wasn’t already halfway there.
My cell—because that’s exactly what it is—comprises four walls with two chairs. It’s the same as the one he took me to that night during one of his games.
There are two candles on opposite sides of the walls, and they’re replaced every time someone brings me food. The bucket in the corner gets emptied at the same time.
There is nothing to do in here except count pieces of gravel on the floor and try not to think too hard about anything. Thinking is dangerous. Thinking takes me to dark places.
Is death something, or is it nothing?
Is there a point to this? To being alive?
How did we even come to be?
What am I? The answer is a human, but it’s not. There’s something else. Something that makes me, me.
A soul?
But what is the point in a soul if there is only nothing after death?
You can get lost in those thoughts. Deeper and deeper until you begin to doubt you’ll be able to claw yourself back.
That’s when I go back to counting stones.
The rattle of the bolt pulls me from my thoughts, planting me firmly back in the room. Like always, the man takes up almost all the space inside the door. Like always, he is black on black and surrounded by more black. Like always, it seems to follow him around like a cloak. The reflection of the candles, visible in the metal of his mask, is the only part of him that provides any warmth.
“I could have made you a queen” is all he says. No sweet girl. No playful queries about how much I did or didn’t miss him. This isn’t good. And this isn’t a game.
I can almost feel the chill in his voice, like a physical thing.
He says nothing else as he enters the room, kicking the door closed behind him and extinguishing the nearest candle between two fingers.
I watch him closely, my stomach churning while everything else stays rooted in place. The second candle goes out much like the first.
Darkness. As easy as that.
The sound of metal hitting concrete makes me jump. The mask.
He’s only ever done that when he wanted to be gentle, but the atmosphere in the room has me doubting that is the case tonight.
I hear him sit down on the wooden chair on the opposite side of the room, just as he did the last time we were down here together. He terrified me then, and I guess we’ve gone full circle.
“Come here, Sapphire.”
Every ounce of my being is telling me not