Page 58 of Anomalies

“Esme wasn’t a traitor!”

Her words burst from her like shattered glass, and the crackle of the fire fills the silence that follows. I stare back at her stoically. “What do you mean? Kimber said she killed⁠—”

“She killed no one,” Delia hisses. “Esme loved her mother. She loved her city…she’d have done anything to protect it. There’s simply no way she’d aid in its destruction.”

I stare down at the picture of her. She was so young when all this happened. Now, the city she supposedly loved so much is ruined, and the people she was meant to rule aren’t strong enough to do anything about it.

“But people saw her⁠—”

“I don’t know what happened, Lucina. But I knew Esme. She wouldn’t have done this.”

Maybe Esme fooled Delia…led her to believe she’d never do such a thing, but had some ulterior motive she kept secret. Maybe the version of my mother that Delia knew was fabricated.

“I tried to stop the accusations when they started, but no one believed me. The speculation caught fire, and when the dust settled, there was nothing I could do.” The Dame swallows thickly. “Lucina, if people find out who you are, they’ll kill you.”

My spine snaps straight as everything clicks into place— her orders for the Ajax coven to follow me around, insisting that Callan spare one of his men to watch me at all hours of the day…she led them to believe it was out of suspicion, but it was out of⁠—

“You wanted them to protect me,” I breathe in revelation.

The Dame falls still, her lips a tight line. And then she nods. “If I’d given him the explicit order to protect you, the Captain would have wanted to know why, so I was as vague as I could be. I just wanted someone there with you, just in case someone in Pirn found out who you were.”

My mouth hangs open as the Dame calls the Captain back into the room. His boots are heavy on the hardwoods as he comes to lean against the mantled fireplace. When I look up, he’s already staring back at me.

“Captain.” His attention snaps to the Dame. “This is Lucina Van Reenan—daughter of Esme Van Reenan, and your new orders are to protect her until⁠—”

“Until we clear her name,” I blurt, the words coming out before I can even make sense of where they came from. Maybe it was the smile Esme’s wearing in the picture I hold of her…or maybe it’s the blood we share…but something deep in my bones rejects her betrayal.

“Right?” I clarify when the Dame doesn’t answer. “You just said she was innocent.”

“We have no way of proving that,” is all she says.

Believing she’s innocent and accepting her false conviction anyway…what a cowardly thing to do to someone you claim to have loved. She said she grew up with my mother…knew her better than anyone…then she enabled the tarnishing of her reputation.

The Dame watches me expectantly, but I decide to keep my thoughts to myself. I have nothing constructive to say.

She straightens her starlit robes and slides the papers back into her lap. “Get some sleep, Lucina. We can skip our lesson in the morning, but we start back tomorrow⁠—”

“I don’t want to train with you anymore,” I spit out, and Delia’s brows rise.

“Lucina, there is no one else who can teach you⁠—”

“The Captain can,” I blurt and Callan stiffens in my peripheral vision. “He taught me in a few minutes what you and I have been working on for two weeks.”

She sits silently for a moment, her stare cutting to the Captain, and when I scrounge up the courage to look at him, I’m fairly certain he’s plotting my murder. He hardly has the time to sleep, and I’m asking to add more onto his already full plate.

“Very well,” Delia sighs, “Captain, you will take over Lucina’s training.” I rip my gaze from his before he can find a way to kill me with it. “We’ll meet once a week, so I can monitor your progress, and until you’re strong enough to defend yourself, be careful of who you trust with the knowledge of your bloodline. Understood?”

“Yes,” the Captain and I say in unison.

“Good.”

Callan says nothing the entire walk back. Not. A single. Word.

I shoot him a glare when I see that my front door is wide open, and he breaks his bout of silence to say, “At least it’s still on its hinges.”

I trudge up the porch steps, a detached numbness that feels a lot like exhaustion, wearing on my bones. I’m about to step inside when Callan yanks me back by my arm.

“What the fuck?” I snap, tugging against his hold.