Chương 18: The Price of Freedom

"The reason you've captured my interest," I began, "is that I was once in a position rather similar to yours." Princess Vera looked up at me. Malcolm remained on his knees beside her, one hand hovering near his bruised throat. At least he had stopped coughing. Conducting a serious conversation became considerably more difficult when someone was wheezing all over my carpet.

"Although," I added as I leaned back in my chair, "my circumstances were considerably worse than those of a princess." Celeste shifted beside me. The movement was subtle enough that no one else would have noticed, but I knew she understood where my thoughts had gone. Adrian remained near the door, silent as usual, although his eyes sharpened slightly. He and Celeste already knew this story. Over the last eighty years, pieces of my past had worked their way out of me like shards of glass escaping an old wound.

They had never emerged all at once, but enough had surfaced for them to understand its shape. Vera didn't know the story, so I gave her only the part that mattered.

"I was sold." Shock widened the princess's eyes, and the remaining color slowly drained from her face.

"There was no promise, arrangement, or polished court language to disguise it. My father accepted gold and relief from his debts in exchange for handing me to a man old enough to be my father. The money helped pay for my older brother's wedding and his new home." A humorless smile crossed my face.

"Fair, was it not?" Vera's fingers tightened in the fabric of her dress, while Malcolm stared at me with open horror. That was good. Horror meant they were listening.

"The man was disgusting. He was fat, constantly sweating, and wealthy enough that everyone around him mistook appetite for charm. Women had a habit of dying in his household, but no one cared so long as his coin remained clean after passing through someone else's hands." Celeste's hand curled at her side, although I refused to look toward her.

"He had me bound to a bed and stripped of my clothing. When I saw his revolting body moving toward me and watched his mouth lower toward mine, something inside me finally broke." The office fell silent enough for Vera's rapid, uneven heartbeat to fill the room, betraying the fear she was trying to hide.

"He tried to kiss me, so I turned my head and tore open his throat. I bit him until he stopped moving and stopped breathing, and the room smelled of blood instead of him." Vera raised one hand to cover her mouth. Malcolm looked away.

"Mother," Celeste murmured.

"I'm answering her question before she has the opportunity to ask it."

"She hasn't asked a question."

"Then I'm being efficient." Celeste sighed.

"That may have been slightly heavy for your first proper conversation." A single laugh escaped me, causing Vera to flinch.

"Was it? How careless of me. Would you prefer that I serve tea before discussing the purchase of unwilling daughters?" Celeste watched me with concern, but she didn't interrupt again. She understood that I had chosen to tell the story in my own way, even if she wished I had handled it with slightly less blood. My attention returned to Vera.

"Much more happened afterward, including fire, screaming, and a regrettable amount of family drama. Those details are irrelevant for the moment." Adrian's mouth twitched faintly, while Celeste's expression softened. I rested my chin against one hand.

"Tell me, Princess. What are you prepared to do to remain with the man you claim to love?" Vera stared at me for a long while. Her attention shifted first toward Malcolm. She was not seeking permission to love him. She was weighing the cost of whatever answer she chose to give, her gaze lingering on the bruises around his throat, the shame written across his face, and the blood still drying at the corner of his mouth. Only then did she lower her eyes to her own hands.

They were soft and carefully tended, raised to hold embroidery needles, teacups, dance cards, and ceremonial bouquets, never knives, throats, or the bars of a cage.

"I don't know," she whispered. Pain crossed Malcolm's expression.

"Vera…"

"No." Her voice gained strength.

"I will not lie." That was an interesting response. Vera raised her gaze to mine.

"I don't know whether I could do what you did. Killing has never been part of my life, nor have I ever been forced to fight for it. My existence has been spent being guarded, dressed, instructed, watched, and traded through conversations I was never permitted to interrupt. Whether that makes me brave, Lady Vaust, I cannot say. At least, not in the way you mean." Vera swallowed and gathered the courage to continue.

"But I do know this." Her hands gradually stopped trembling.

"I would rather die free beside Malcolm than live as that man's obedient wife." The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The words tightened the entire room around them. Malcolm reached for her hand.

"Vera, don't say that." She caught his hand before he could withdraw it.

"I mean it." I watched her carefully. Frightened people often became dramatic. They made declarations, promises, and sacred vows to gods they usually ignored and ancestors they barely remembered. Vera's voice, however, contained none of the wild heat of performance. It held grief. Grief was frequently more honest than courage.

"My father says I owe the crown my obedience," Vera explained.

"My brother calls love a childish fantasy, and my tutors insist princesses are born with duties rather than desires. Everyone has told me what I am since I became old enough to understand the words." Her fingers tightened around Malcolm's.

"When I am with him, I remember that I'm not only a princess. I am Vera." Malcolm lowered his head. The fool looked ready to cry. It was deeply uncomfortable. Vera's eyes shone, but she refused to lower them.

"If you're asking whether I could kill a man, I don't know. If you're asking whether I would run, then yes. I would abandon my title and allow the palace to hate me." Her voice trembled again.

"If you're asking whether I would become a monster to remain with him…" She hesitated. There it was. The question beneath the question. Celeste glanced toward me, while Adrian's posture shifted almost imperceptibly. Malcolm turned sharply toward Vera.

"No." She regarded him with heartbreaking tenderness.

"You don't get to answer that for me." A smile ran across my face at the rebuke of Malcolm. Vera returned her attention to me.

"If becoming a monster meant belonging to myself for the first time, then yes. I believe I would." The silence that followed was heavy with the choice Vera had just made. I watched her for a moment before the smile on my face widened even further.

"Careful, Princess. That almost sounded like a spine." Celeste's smile brightened.

"That's remarkably high praise coming from you, Mother."

"It was a compliment."

"I know. I'm making certain Vera understands the significance." A breath escaped Vera that might have become a laugh if she hadn't been so close to tears. Malcolm watched her as though she had stepped to the edge of the world and he was already preparing to follow. Men like him were wonderfully foolish in that regard. I leaned forward and folded my hands across the desk.

"Both of you must understand something. Love is not enough." Malcolm's jaw tightened, while Vera's expression fell slightly. I continued before either of them could drown me beneath such tragic expressions.

"Love can make you brave and loyal. It can convince you to throw yourself between a monster and the idiot who cheated inside her casino." Malcolm winced.

"Still accurate," Celeste murmured.

"However, love will not purchase your safety. It will not soften kings, rewrite bloodlines, or prevent your father from treating you like a treaty with a heartbeat." Vera lowered her eyes.

"If you intend to survive, you will require more than love. You will need leverage, secrets, allies, money, timing, and a willingness to become deeply inconvenient." Celeste smiled faintly.

"She teaches that final lesson exceptionally well." I ignored her. Vera looked up once more.

"Are you saying you will help us?"

"No." Whatever optimism had entered her expression immediately disappeared.

"I'm saying that I'm considering whether your problem is entertaining enough to justify my involvement." Celeste sighed.

"That means yes."

"It does not." Adrian finally contributed from the doorway.

"It usually does." I turned my head toward him.

"Must everyone in this room betray me?" Celeste patted my shoulder.

"Only when necessary, Mother." Vera looked between us, clearly bewildered by the strange shape of our family. I leaned back into my chair.

"Tell me the name of the man your father intends to marry you to." Vera's expression tightened.

"Duke Edmund Vale, Lord of Westmere. My father needs his armies and his wealth." My smile faded.

"Armies and wealth," I murmured.

"There's the old song." Celeste's expression cooled. Malcolm's hand curled into a fist.

"He's cruel," Vera whispered.

"Most men who purchase women are."

"He has already buried two wives." My eyes settled upon her.

"How careless of him." Vera shivered. A smile returned to my face, although there was nothing pleasant within it.

"Perhaps Duke Vale and I should become acquainted." Malcolm paled.

"Lady Vaust…" I raised one finger.

"You will remain silent unless spoken to, Just Malcolm. You're currently alive because Celeste likes the princess and because your stupidity has begun to amuse me." Celeste leaned closer.

"That was almost sweet."

"I will have you removed."

"You would miss me." Vera's gaze moved between us as some of the fear in her expression gave way to cautious belief that escape might truly be possible. I rose from my chair.

"Here is what will happen. Malcolm will work beneath Adrian until his debt has been satisfied. He will not touch another card, die, flee, or commit any additional romantic crimes without my permission." Malcolm blinked.

"Romantic crimes?"

"You cheated in a casino for love. Don't pretend the description is inaccurate." Adrian offered a single nod.

"It's accurate." Malcolm looked betrayed by everyone in the room.

"As for you, Princess, you will continue meeting with Celeste, but you will stop creeping into my casino like a frightened mouse beneath a veil. From now on, you will tell her everything: names, dates, letters, contracts, rumors, and which servants are loyal to you or your father. I want the full shape of your cage before I decide where to sink my teeth." Vera slowly rose from the floor. She remained afraid.

"What happens if my father discovers us?" she asked. I smiled.

"Then we shall learn whether Stonehaven's crown is clever enough to fear the dark." Celeste looked toward Vera with gentleness.

"For now, breathe. We will take this one step at a time." Vera nodded. Malcolm continued holding her hand. The sight of their joined fingers stirred that old and irritating sensation beneath my ribs. Their devotion was a chain chosen freely rather than one forced around either of their throats. The sight stirred something inconvenient beneath my ribs, equal parts attachment, usefulness, and danger. I settled back into my chair and waved one hand toward the door.

"Go, both of you, before I reconsider and do something sensible." Celeste lifted an eyebrow.

"Sensible?"

"I've been assured it's a dreadful habit." A small, uneven laugh escaped Vera, loosening some of the tension that had held her since entering my office. Malcolm bowed his head.

"Thank you, Lady Vaust."

"Don't thank me. You will despise my assistance before this is over." He looked toward Vera before meeting my gaze again.

"If she is free when it ends, I can live with that." A smile touched my lips.

"Careful, Just Malcolm. Continue speaking that way, and I may decide you're not entirely useless." Adrian opened the office door. Vera's guards immediately straightened in the corridor, their faces tense and suspicious. Adrian gave them a single look, and they remembered that entering remained unwise. They were good men. More importantly, they were trainable. Malcolm and Vera stepped into the corridor, but Celeste remained beside me. Once the door closed behind them, silence settled across the office.

I stared down at the grain of the wooden desk. Celeste waited an entire three seconds before speaking, which was remarkably generous by her standards.

"That was intense for a first meeting." A laugh escaped me. It wasn't loud or particularly kind, but it was genuine enough to soften her smile.

"They wanted my attention. Now they possess it." Celeste tilted her head.

"And your sympathy?" I looked toward her. She returned my gaze without hesitation. Eighty years had passed, and she still asked questions that would've earned lesser creatures an early grave.

"No."

"Of course not."

"I don't possess sympathy."

"Naturally."

"I possess irritation."

"Mm."

"And nostalgia."

"Unpleasant nostalgia, I assume."

"The worst variety." Celeste rested one hand against the back of my chair.

"Then what will you do?" My gaze settled on the door Malcolm and Vera had passed through. A princess was being sold, a commoner was trying to purchase worth, and a duke with two dead wives waited at the center of it all. Behind him stood a king willing to trade his daughter for power, it was a cage built from silk, law, and greed. I smiled.

"I believe I will inspect the merchandise before anyone else claims it." Celeste sighed.

"That's a horrifying way to announce that you intend to help."

"Yes," I replied.

"But it sounded excellent."