Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(88)
That’s right. My father’s patches. The force that propelled me into this nightmare to begin with. I’m so disgusted with Reginald that all I want is to get out of his presence. I hate that I need him. I hate that he owns Saber.
The door from the alley closes, and Saber whirls on me. “What were you thinking?”
His anger feels like a blow. “I—how can it hurt to ask?”
“Hurt? You’ve destroyed everything!”
“I don’t see how that’s even possible.”
“I fly under the radar, Danica. I do as I’m told, I never complain, I’m never punished. But now?” He runs his fingers through his hair with a low groan. “That was clumsy at best, but seriously, the worst possible way to go about it with Reginald. Insinuating that he owed you? What did you think would happen?”
I’m feeling my own temper rise as Giovanni comes around the corner, looking concerned.
“I thought he would see how much I’ve done for him. That he would be rational.”
“He’s not rational! He’s the height of irrational. How the hell could anyone rational live the life he lives? Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do?”
“I thought it would work. I wanted to help you; to free you.”
But Saber’s already shaking his head. “You think you can just do things and mess with people’s lives without consulting them. That’s your problem—that’s the problem with all of this!” he says, spreading his hands wide. “You think your little life is so important that you can change other people’s futures and it doesn’t matter what they want, or think. And somehow, you’re sure you have the power to make everything all right.”
“Power?” I shoot back, almost yelling. “I have no power, Saber. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. But I thought that this one thing—this one tiny thing—maybe I could do it and…and…”
“And redeem yourself?” Saber asks. “One nearly useless life for the hundreds you’ve ruined?”
“I wanted to bring you with me,” I shout back, and silence falls over the studio.
“Ah,” Saber says after a long pause. “So even freeing me was self-serving in the end.”
I want to argue with him, but the words catch in my throat in a surge of indignation. I feel falsely accused, and the hurt and anger war into a tight ball of emotions I can’t speak past.
He’s right, of course. I should have talked to him. Not only so that the person who knows Reginald best could advise my strategy, but simply because I should have asked if he even wanted to come. I took his future and tried to shape it to my own liking. The thought that makes the anger drain away and the shame take over is that I treated him like the slave he is.
Saber mentioned punishments; would Reginald hurt him for this? Kill him for this? The thought makes me ill.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper through my tears. But it’s too late. I’ve ruined any chance of his coming with me, and I’ll leave him with a strained relationship with the man who controls every aspect of his life. It’s possible I’ve destroyed any already-dim future Saber might have dreamed of, in one fell swoop.
Saber’s shoulders crumple at my words, and he steps forward to enfold me in his arms. “I’ll handle it,” he says gruffly. “As long as I can convince him I didn’t put you up to it, it should end up okay.”
“Why would he think you had anything to do with it?”
Saber arches an eyebrow. “How else would you know about my situation at all?”
I hadn’t even considered that. Of course Reginald would think Saber had told me a sob story and we’d hatched a plan—a plan for Saber to essentially run away.
Saber’s right—I was stupid.
“Let’s get back to that godforsaken palace one last time,” Saber says with false cheeriness. “We have a job to do.”
The ride back to Versailles somehow feels both longer and shorter than usual. In two days I’m expected to wed the King. In two days, to keep that from happening, I’ll have to leave Saber behind, and my father as well. I’m too beaten to feel triumphant, too triumphant to feel beaten.
The car glides through the golden gates, around to the back of the palace, and into the underground garage. I wish I could hold Saber’s hand as we walk from the car to the lift that will take us back into palace life. Even the lift ride feels too long. When we step out of it and back into the frescoed hallway, three guards are waiting, and after dropping quick bows, they gesture both Saber and me into a small alcove. “What on earth is going on?” I demand.
One of the guards holds up his tablet to show me a document with a few scrawled signatures at the bottom. “Warrant,” he says. “My apologies, but I’ll need to search you, Your Grace.”
My heart seems to stop and then race almost simultaneously. “I don’t understand,” I say, but my voice is much quieter now.
“A tip that something might be brought in from Paris” is all the man says. “Don’t worry; there’s no need for this to be uncomfortable. If you would please turn around for me, Your Grace?”
Saber, however, is not shown nearly the courtesy I am. The guard closest to him shoves him against the wall and yanks his arms behind him before applying magnetic cuffs.