Chapter 4

Elena's POV

The day of the banquet, the relentless stabbing in my chest woke me early.

I lay in bed a long while, recovering, before I could force myself upright.

The curtains were still drawn, the room dim.

The woman in the mirror was pale, her lips so colorless they were almost invisible.

I stared at myself for a moment, suddenly unmoored.

Ten years ago, before my first banquet as Adrian's wife, I'd sat in front of this same mirror for a long time.

Back then my eyes had been bright, full of anticipation.

I kept thinking that if I were just a little lovelier, a little more poised, if I tried a little harder to please him, Adrian might spare me a second glance.

And I did learn a great deal in the years after.

I learned how to smile, how to deflect the ill-meant probing aimed at him.

I also learned how to swallow my anger and heartbreak when he came home carrying another woman's scent, and to set everything right for him.

And still he never came to love me.

A soft knock came at the door.

The maid stepped in, and seeing me at the vanity, she gave a small start.

“Madam, you don't look well today.”

I lowered my eyes.

“I didn't sleep well last night.”

She didn't dare ask anything more and set briskly to doing my makeup.

Layer after layer of foundation went on, the blush brushed heavier than usual.

But the sickness in the mirror still wouldn't hide.

Faint blue shadows sat beneath my eyes.

And a grayish pallor clung to my mouth that nothing could cover.

The maid's hand paused with the brush.

“Madam, shall I send for a doctor to look you over?”

I looked up at her.

She lowered her head at once.

I knew she only meant well, that there was no malice in it.

But I couldn't let anyone send for a doctor.

Every doctor in the Prince's estate was Adrian's.

The moment they found out about my illness, Adrian would know soon after.

I didn't want to watch him pained by simple duty, and I didn't want to spin myself one more pitiful delusion out of his belated care, didn't want to deceive myself all over again.

I shook my head gently. “No need.”

“Add another layer of foundation.”

The maid had no choice but to obey.

But once she'd gone, I took the pill bottle out of the drawer all the same.

A human doctor had given it to me.

The medication suppressed the abnormal scent in my blood so no vampire would catch it, and it gave me a brief lift as well.

The side effects, though, were severe.

The doctor had warned me: one pill a day, no more.

I shook out two, paused, then tipped out one more.

They landed in my palm, a harsh, glaring white.

I looked at them for a few seconds and realized, dimly, that somewhere along the way I'd stopped taking any care of my own body.

For ten years I'd been learning to shortchange myself so as not to be a trouble to Adrian.

Until even my own sickness had to be hidden flawlessly.

My hand trembled on its own, and one pill dropped beneath the vanity.

I crouched to look for it, but the moment I bent down my vision began to dim, so I gave up.

I took out another to replace it and swallowed all three down.

The bitterness lodged in my throat and lingered for a long time.

Once I'd changed, I steadied myself against the edge of the table for a while, waiting for the dizziness to pass before I left the room.

Adrian was already waiting downstairs.

He wore a black dress coat, the heir's crest pinned at his collar.

Elegant, composed, perfect, the way he always was.

As I came down the stairs, he looked up, his gaze resting on my face for an instant.

“Why do you still look so dreadful?”

I smiled.

“If it bothers you, I can redo my makeup.”

He frowned, as if he didn't care for my tone.

But he quickly slipped back into his gentleman's manner and held out his hand.

“Let's go.”

I took his arm without thinking.

The gesture was so practiced it struck even me as pathetic.

For ten years, this was how we'd always been in front of others.

He'd hold my hand, open the car door for me.

Lean in before the Council members to ask whether I was cold.

Everyone believed us a model of devotion.

Only I knew that all that tenderness vanished the moment the guests were gone.

But today was the last time.

I told myself.

Get through this once more, and it would be over.

As I reached the door, I saw someone else standing by the car.

Clara.

She wore a silver-gray gown, her long hair swept up to bare a lovely neck.

Seeing us come out, she dipped into a bow at once.

“Lord Adrian. Madam.”

She was young, vivid, her eyes still bright with the certainty of someone who didn't yet know she could lose.

Once, a woman like her would have left me grieving for days.

I'd have wondered whether she was prettier than me, cleverer, better at winning his favor.

Now I only thought how pitiful I was, and how pitiful they all were.

Adrian seemed to be waiting for some reaction from me.

But I only gave a calm nod.

“Miss Clara.”

He watched me, then said abruptly, “She's coming with us tonight.”

I went on smiling.

“All right.”

Adrian's gaze cooled, and he said in a low voice, “Once I've divorced you, I intend to marry her.”

Clara's head shot up, delight flashing across her face before she quickly smothered it.

But Adrian wasn't looking at her.

His eyes stayed fixed on my face the whole time.

As if he had to find some mark of hurt in mine.

“That's why I had her come tonight, so she can meet some important people in advance.” He said. “It'll make things easier for her later.”

Once, I'd have frozen on the spot.

I'd have been unable to hold even the last of my composure, lowering my head in silence to hide the tears.

But now his voice seemed to reach me through a muffled rush of water, breaking in and out.

The medication had dulled the stabbing in my chest a little, but it left my head heavy and clouded.

All I could see was his lips moving.

I caught only a few scattered words.

Divorce.

Marry her.

So he'd already picked out his next wife.

I lowered my eyes and slowly lifted the corners of my mouth.

“All right.”

Adrian's face changed.

“Is all right all you can say?”

I looked up at him.

“What would you have me say?”

He fell silent, his blood-red eyes turning away.

I truly didn't know what to say.

Congratulate him?

Demand answers?

Or set down my pride one more time and beg him not to treat me this way?

It felt as if I'd already said all of it, over these ten years.

Now I only wanted to get through this banquet and be wholly free.

Angered by my manner, Adrian pulled his arm back.

Losing my support, I swayed on my feet, my back knocking against the stair rail.

He saw it.

But he didn't come to steady me again.

He turned and walked toward the car, his voice indifferent.

“Since you're so very gracious, you can ride in the car behind.”

Clara stayed where she was, looking faintly awkward.

She glanced at me as if she wanted to say something.

I didn't give her the chance.

I just held the railing and edged slowly toward the car door.

With every step, my heart felt as though it were being sliced thin.

Cold sweat seeped down my back, sticking to the lining of my gown, clammy and miserable.

I bit the tip of my tongue, using the pain to keep myself lucid.

I couldn't collapse.

At least not in front of Adrian.

Getting in, I bent more slowly than usual.

Adrian attentively opened the door for Clara and handed her in, watching me with cold eyes.

Through the haze, I could barely tell where the dull ache in my chest was even coming from.

Perhaps it was only the illness.

After all, I was already divorcing Adrian.

And I shouldn't care about him anymore.