Brightly Burning(64)

“How did you get these?” I hovered up close to them, running disbelieving fingers over rough canvas, and blushing fiercely at my portrait. I’d never felt it was good enough to share, so seeing it here, and knowing Hugo had spent time alone with it . . . I might as well have been naked.

“I had Orion hack your drawing tab before you left.”

I should have been upset at the violation of my privacy, but at the moment, all I cared about was that Hugo had taken the time to do it. That he had thought about making my room that much more mine. I pressed my lips together in a tight smile to stop myself from letting out an undignified noise. “Thank you,” I managed, taking my trunk over from him. And then there I was, standing, Hugo just staring at me, like he was waiting for some response, some question from me. Instead, I changed the subject. “I don’t even know what time it is. I’m absolutely starving.”

“It’s nearly dinnertime, so you’re in luck,” Hugo replied, and if he was disappointed, he didn’t let on. “Eat up, and I’ll see you in my study after.” It was like I’d never left. Like the Ingrams had never been here. Back to our old routine.


At dinner, I was subjected to more hugs in one go than I’d collectively experienced in my whole life.

“It was awful without you. Please don’t go away again.” It was a challenge extricating myself from hug number four from Jessa. I smiled, ruffling her hair, and tried to answer. The reassuring phrases I knew I was meant to say turned to ash on my tongue, leaving me speechless.

“I’m sure Stella is as glad to be back as you are to see her. I’m glad you’re back myself.”

Bless Xiao, ever the diplomat. I tried to capture her eye, to thank her, but instead caught an uneasy look between her and Poole. A conversation passed in a glance. They were as aware as I was what Hugo’s marriage to Bianca would mean. No promises to stay could be made.

“When are the Ingrams coming back?” I asked, failing miserably at sounding casual. I spooned a double helping of mashed potatoes onto my plate to hide my panic.

“Whenever Princess Bianca feels like it, I would imagine,” Poole said.

“Hopefully never,” Jessa mumbled into her plate.

“Tell us about your trip, Stella.” Orion changed the subject before Jessa could get on a roll. “We’d love to hear what the Empire is like.”

I obliged, but I lost my chance to get more gossip about the Ingrams and the impending wedding. I’d have to ask Hugo himself.

An hour later, duty carried me to the study, but dread kept me weighted in front of the door. I paced back and forth, pressed my ear to the door to confirm Hugo was inside. I didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean much. Just as I was contemplating going to bed and putting off this conversation forever, Hugo shouted through the door to come in. Cursing that I’d given myself away, I obliged.

Déjà vu enveloped me like a fog: Hugo in his chair; light languorously low, projecting shadows onto the wood-paneled walls. I inhaled the musty smell of books and whiskey, then released a slow, deep breath before taking a seat across from Hugo. My old chair, but a new me.

“I owe you an apology.”

“Oh?” I braced myself, schooling my features so I could take the worst.

“I wanted to make the new decorations for your room a surprise, but I realize they came at the expense of your privacy. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I mean, technically you bought me the drawing tab, so it kind of belongs to you anyway.”

Hugo frowned, the shadows exaggerating it into a glower. “That’s no excuse. It was a gift, given freely. I don’t own any part of you.”

“Then thank you. I appreciate it.”

Hugo relaxed back into his chair, as if a considerable burden had been lifted.

“You know, it was Jessa who scolded me about it. You’ve taught her well.”

“I can’t take full credit. She was a good kid when I got here.”

“Tell me all about your trip.”

I relayed my semi-rehearsed platitudes about my aunt’s cancer, her passing, helping Charlotte tie up loose ends.

“That’s it?”

“Were you expecting a dramatic reenactment?”

“I was expecting honesty. From what I know about your relationship with your family, I figure it wasn’t all smooth sailing.”

I felt a tug in my stomach, something like longing swelling in my chest. I wanted to share with him, tell him all my deepest feelings. But then defiance whipped up from my core. Hugo seemed to wish to fall back into our old routine, once again skirting the line between employer and employee, friends and something more—?though the latter was mostly in my head. Yet he was keeping secrets from me, had put me through terrible social torture all those weeks the Ingrams were here. He was going to marry Bianca. I owed him nothing.

“What about you? Why did the Ingram party leave so suddenly?”

It caught him off-guard. He leaned forward, the dim light casting half his face in shadow. “Surely you know?”

I didn’t know, and I didn’t like that he was teasing me again. I left my chair for the window, where I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye as he humiliated me.

“I know they need to prepare for the wedding, but I don’t understand why everyone left. The junior staff should have stayed, at least. I’d like to know when they’re coming back, when the wedding is.” I turned my back to him, so only the stars would see my disappointment.