Stealing Cinderella(37)
Through tears, I beg him to stop as shards of pain splinter inside of me, the vibrations amplifying the wreckage Ms. Nilsen left behind this morning. When I close my eyes and try to escape, all I can see is her with the broomstick. It isn’t my father anymore. They are one. And I realize now I can’t trust anyone. The pain is all I’ll ever know.
“Thor?” My mother’s voice pulls me from the memory, and a shiver moves over me as I try to blacken it out, stuff it down, and forget it ever happened. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat, resolving to assure her that I really am. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”
I hate that I’ve only added to her worries, and I need to fix this.
“You aren’t a bad mother,” I answer her question from before. “You have been the best Mor I could have asked for. I’m only sorry I wasn’t a better son.”
A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and she shakes her head as I dab it away for her. “You and your brother are the best things I’ve ever done in this life. I couldn’t and wouldn’t ever want to change a single moment. As long as I know you’ll be okay, that’s all I want, my love. I want you to be happy. And I think Lavinia will make you happy if you just give her a chance.”
Happiness is an illusion, but I understand this is what my mother needs right now. She needs to believe in the fairy tale. The one she never had.
“You don’t need to worry about me anymore,” I promise her. “Everything is going to be okay. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have together.”
18
Thorsen
“This is incredible.” Lavinia locks me into her sights as she brings a fork full of fish to her lips.
She’s been perfectly poised all night, the ideal date. Soft-spoken, well mannered, graceful. I can only wonder what’s really lurking beneath the surface. If I had met her under different circumstances, I might have thought she was attractive. She is, in fact, beautiful, and it’s obviously her most beloved trait because she checks her appearance in a pocket mirror every chance she gets. But her beauty doesn’t appeal to me the way she hopes. And the fact she’s a liar only cements my resolve that I’d never respect her as a wife.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I discreetly check my watch, counting down the minutes until this evening is over.
Her eyes roam over my plate as I sit back and drink the rest of my akevitt. “Aren’t you going to finish your dinner?”
“I’m not very hungry.” I shove my half-finished meal aside.
“That’s too bad.” Her voice dips, taking on a raspy quality. “I’m starving.”
It isn’t difficult to comprehend the meaning behind her words. But she makes the additional effort of encouraging her affection by reaching out to graze my arm. Unlike Ella, her touch sends a chill through my veins, and I withdraw without a second thought. Lavinia narrows her eyes at me but recovers quickly.
“When you’re finished, we can take a walk in the garden.” I try to move the agenda my father planned along at a breakneck pace.
Lavinia nods but takes her time, drawing out the meal as long as she can. In that time, I have three more glasses of akevitt, and I’m bleary-eyed and unsteady when we finally depart the dining room. She secures her arm in mine without asking, and I’m just drunk enough that I can pretend I don’t give a fuck as we step into the garden.
The scent of roses and lavender carry on the breeze, mixing with Lavinia’s perfume to create a sickly-sweet smell. The moon alights the path before us, and we walk on in silence, not wandering in any particular direction, and for a second, I manage not to think about anything. Not even the blonde who has been haunting my every waking moment.
“When can I see your estate?” Lavinia asks.
I recall the schedule my father gave me, remembering that it was one of the items I’m supposed to check off. Take Lavinia on a picnic. Another day, the theater. And inevitably, the estate. For a moment, I wonder what she would think of the naked woman hiding in my guest quarters. I wonder how Lavinia would react to the level of depravity she doesn’t even understand I’m capable of.
“Perhaps next week.”
She pauses, her features tight. “Have I done something to upset you, Your Highness?”
I use the opportunity to shrug her off. “What makes you ask such a question?”
“You seem… disinterested.” She pouts. “You’ve been quiet all evening, and I’m just wondering if there’s something I could do to ease your worries, whatever they may be.”
“You mean like your pussy?”
Her mouth falls open, and she puts on a good show of pretending to be stunned by my vulgarity.
“Your Highness!” A blush spreads across her cheeks, and I cock my head to the side, examining her.
“That is what you’re offering, is it not?”
She glances around as if we might have an audience before a secret smile curves her lips. “If that’s what you wish, I would not deny you.”
“Would you deny me your ass? Or your mouth?” I ask forcefully. “What about restraints? Or whipping? Or pain in general? I think it’s only fair that you understand what you’re asking for.”