Cinderella Is Dead(70)
“Erin,” I say, just above a whisper.
“Sophia?” Her voice sounds thin and raspy as if she’s been crying. I wonder for how long and if any of those tears are over me.
“I had to see you,” I say.
She sweeps down the front steps, and I think she’s going to embrace me, but as I reach for her, she stops.
“What are you doing here?” She glances back at the front door.
“I came to see if you were all right. After I saw you in the market—”
Erin huffs loudly. “Leave the past in the past, Sophia. That’s where it belongs.” Her eyes and words are like ice.
“I thought you’d—I don’t know—I thought you might want to see me. I wanted to see you.”
“Really? Why would I want to see you? You left. You think you’re better than us because you got away?”
I’m struck silent. She is seething, hatred dripping from every word.
“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” I say. “Why would you say that? I asked you to come with us. I wanted you to come.”
“Come with you where?” She looks back at the door again. “Where did you go?” She shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care. I don’t care that you feel sorry for me and came to see how pitiful I am.”
“That’s not why I’m here. Erin, what happened to you? Why are you acting like this?”
She marches up to me and sticks her finger in my chest. “You left! You left me here to deal with this alone. Liv is dead, and you’re gone, and I have no one.”
All the time I spent trying to be there for her flashes in my head. How many times had I tried to comfort her, to help her in any way that she would allow, and now this is my fault?
“I tried to tell you how much I cared for you. I tried so hard and you—you pushed me away.” This isn’t my fault.
“You tried to make me believe that this would work when you knew damned well that it never will,” she says. “Not here in Lille or anywhere else. I’ve accepted my fate. Something you could never do because you’re too busy daydreaming. If my husband finds you here, he’ll turn you in.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” I say after a moment. I’m desperate to give her an out. “I’ve found another way.”
“I won’t risk being disowned by my parents all because you have some new plan that will get you executed like that poor woman in the marketplace, like your own grandmother.”
My stomach turns over. “I don’t care.”
“Of course you don’t,” she snaps. “Your parents have already disowned you. And you have no husband, nothing to lose.” Her words cut me to the bone, rip my insides out and stomp on them. “Not even you, with all your wishful thinking, can change things. You’re not special, Sophia. You’re just a silly girl like the rest of us.”
Holding my tears at bay, trembling with frustration, I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I lost myself in caring for you. I cared for you so much I forgot that I deserve to be happy too. I’m sorry you don’t believe in me.” She bristles. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
“I don’t need to be saved,” she says as she weeps silent tears. “I need you to leave me alone. Forever.”
“You’re afraid. I know what that’s like. But you’re going to have to decide what you’re willing to risk to change things.” This is goodbye. It has to be. I know what the king’s laws do to the women of Lille, but what they’ve done to Erin is more than I can stand.
Giving me one last look, she turns and goes inside.
After staring at the closed door for a moment, I mount my horse and ride straight back to Constance, who is waiting for me on the front step. I climb down as she comes toward me, her eyes worried.
“I only wanted to tell her that there was another way, but she still can’t understand that.”
Constance slips her hand into mine. “I’m sorry, Sophia.”
“No,” I say. “I’m sorry. I never should have risked going back there, and I don’t want you to feel like I was trying to make a choice between you and Erin. I made that choice before I left. I choose you.”
Constance presses her lips against mine as she winds her arms around my neck.
“Ahem.” Amina clears her throat, standing on the front step with her arms crossed. “Went out for a little stroll this morning? I hope you enjoyed yourself. Are the palace guards on your tail?” She splits a pointed look between me and the driveway.
“I wasn’t followed.”
“You went into town,” Constance says to Amina. “Don’t be a hypocrite.”
“I can blend in seamlessly, thank you very much, while Sophia just looks like a very beautiful man,” Amina snaps.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Constance asks playfully.
“Did you accomplish whatever it was you were trying to do?” Amina asks.
I nod. The answer isn’t simple. Nothing is simple anymore.
32
On the morning of King Manford’s winter cotillion, snow blankets the land. The air is frigid, and the cold has stripped the trees of their leaves. Lille looks like a page right out of Cinderella’s fairy tale.