Page 6 of A Cursed Son

I could swear there’s smoke coming out of his head. I face the door and turn the key slowly, reminding myself that he can’t have any proof of what I’ve done and that everything is going to be fine. If I show even a hint of a reaction, he’ll know instantly that I’m guilty.

I close the top and bottom bolts, then turn and face him.

He has also turned around, and is glaring at me. I could swear I see murder in his blue eyes, but I steady my emotions and focus on puzzlement.

“What’s happening?” My voice doesn’t tremble or betray me, and I can only assume my facial expression is doing the same.

He stares at me in silence. I mean, I can’t say that’s a stare. It’s more like he’s trying to burn holes in me with his eyes.

But then, I know that’s a strategy to intimidate me, to see how I react. That only calms me, as it means he’s not sure of what I’ve done.

“I’m furious,” he finally says. “And yet say one word to deny your doing, Astra, and I’ll personally make sure you’ll be forever expelled from the guard. Forever shunned.”

That’s akin to a forced confession, but I don’t protest. Knowing when to remain quiet is also a good strategy.

He advances toward me, and I have to use a ton of self control not to flinch.

Eyes narrowed, he says, “You know what will happen if they find out what you are. I’m sure of that. What I’m sure you don’t realize is that I might be sentenced to death for harboring you, protecting you, lying. When you take a wrong step, you risk not only your selfish skin—you risk mine. Your behavior may cast a doubt over the other substitutes too, and you could lead us all to our doom.”

Could that be true? But nobody would find out.

“You don’t believe it.” His bitter chuckle grates my skin. “Well, they’re investigating the poisoning right now. Calapher. I bet you think you’re smart. Except that very few people have access to that substance. Your carelessness could lead them right to me. Now, poisoning two members of the royal guard is a serious, serious act of treason, Astra. How could you be so irresponsible? Do not deny it. You’re the only person who knows about that poison.”

The only one? Those classes were private, but is it possible that my sisters didn’t get the same training? He might be bluffing to snatch a confession out of me. But then, perhaps I should recognize that the chances of denial working here are minimum.

He frowns, and I see concern on his face for the first time since I got here. “I have only one question. Why, Astra? Why? After everything I risked for you, everything I did to protect you, why?”

I know he has kept me hidden, and never told anyone about me. I know that if he hadn’t taken me from the orphanage all those years ago, I would have perished in the fire that took it. And yet none of that has anything to do with this.

I make sure my face is blank, and ask, “What are you talking about?” I know, I know this might be the time to confess and pretend to be sorry, but I couldn’t help it. I had to give it a try.

“Gather your things. You’re no longer part of the Elite Guard.”

He sounds serious. He can’t be serious. Can’t be. The edges of my vision blur, and I feel as if there’s no more floor beneath me, just nothingness. Everything I’ve ever stood on—gone.

My heart rackets in my chest. No, he can’t mean it. He wouldn’t be that unfair, would he? I try to recompose myself, but anger bubbles up, disarranging my thoughts, stirring angry words. Words I’ve suppressed for too long.

“Fine. You want to know why? It’s unfair. Unfair, Master Otavio. I have the best scores in combat, better than my sisters?—”

“They’re not your sisters,” he roars.

I’m not sure what’s the point of that, but I can change my words. “Better than my friends. I always get my answers right. I do everything, everything right. You tell me I need to be perfect, and I’m perfect. For what?”

“For what?” He laughs, as if in disbelief. “What about being alive?”

“I could have survived outside the castle.” My voice is thinner than I’d like it to be.

“You wouldn’t have. You would have died in the fire. If by some luck you had escaped, your purple hair would have given you away, stupid girl. Our kingdom kills darksouls. Every single one of them, even a baby, a child, is considered immoral, impure, and dangerous.”

I hate to be reminded what a worthless scum I am, and that I’m lucky to be alive, since everything about me is so disgraceful.

His voice rises. “And if you survived, and by some miracle found a way to hide what you are, how would you make a living? An orphan girl. Who would have guessed? An ungrateful darksoul.”

Just hearing that word makes me small, insignificant, and even dirty. In the classes we had about my kind, when I learned everything they did to humans, I always had to put into practice all my skills not to cry, not to flinch, not to shudder. And yet shame still clings to me, shame for something I had no control over.

“I just wanted to travel,” I confess, my voice trembling, my eyes stinging as if I had poured vinegar on them. If this is all over, there’s no point trying to pretend anything. “See a little of the world. Why do you only send my si—my friends? I’m capable too. I can be worthy of my position. I work hard for it!”

And in the end there’s that, too. I work hard to prove I can be just as good, to prove that I’m not less, that I’m not tainted. I work so hard… And yet it never seems to matter. Treacherous tears now sully my eyes. Controlling tears of anger is a skill I haven’t mastered yet, despite everything.