Page 49 of Whisper of Nightmares

But no matter how badly she wants to tell her—tell someone—Euphemia isn’t sure she can share that part of his story yet. Isn’t sure she can betray her mother’s trust.

In the end, all she does is shake her head.

Kelda watches her for a moment longer before her gaze finally settles back to the food in front of her. As the tension settles, Euphemia resumes nibbling at the display as well. Though her belly churns with every morsel, she forces herself to take a few bites of meat, before moving onto the oats.

Her stomach is finally settling, when Kelda asks, “And your sisters, they do not know, do they?”

Euphemia slowly shakes her head, brunette ringlets swaying.

“And your mother?” This time, Euphemia nods, and Kelda’s brows inch toward her flaxen hairline. “Interesting.”

She takes another drink, seeming to move on.

But now Euphemia is intrigued as well. She finds herself marveling at this woman’s mind. At how easily she gleans information that those around her work so diligently to protect.

If Kelda intends to scrutinize her, perhaps Euphemia could scrutinize her in return.

“You already knew that though…” she says with more confidence than she’s ever shown in anything but her brewing. When Kelda doesn’t deny it, a sigh of awe spills from her lips. “How is it you know things without any means of knowing them?”

“It is a gift—” Kelda says over her draft “—or perhaps a curse.”

Euphemia’s shoulder tense at the word. A cursed daughter. A cursed husband. Now a cursed mother-in-law? Somehow she keeps finding herself associated with that word.

Raising a brow, Kelda watches her. “I think you have it too.”

The statement jars Euphemia from her thoughts, her heart skipping into her throat.

She can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

Kelda knows.

About the nightmare.

About her curse.

About the secrets she intended to take to her grave.

And the longer Euphemia gawks, attempting to collect herself, the harder Kelda watches. Scrutinizing. Assessing. Uncovering more truths.

“H-have what?”

“The knowing. The ability to see things others can’t,” answers Kelda, and the tension in Euphemia’s chest eases a little. “In the tavern, the night I arrived, you knew that ruddy man was about to fall into a fit of hysterics before he tossed the coins on the table. Did you not?”

“Thurstan?” Euphemia releases the breath she’d been holding too tightly. “Of course I knew. But that’s just how he is. I’d hardly call it the knowing when whenever he comes in, it means there will be trouble.”

“Not always. From what I saw, the man could be quite the charmer when he wants to be.”

Euphemia has to resist the urge to retch.

“I only mean that he seemed adored by many. I watched him the way I watch everyone. Some moments, he was calm, like a quiet sea. Others, he was a treacherous storm.” She looks pointedly to Euphemia and adds, “And somehow you could sense the shifting of his tides before most.”

Euphemia shifts uncomfortably. “I’ve known his family a long time.”

“Ah, yes. That boy of his? The one you used to love?”

Euphemia has to stop her jaw from tumbling open. Mostly to deny Kelda the satisfaction of unmooring her—because she thinks that’s part of this game too. Seeing just how much she’ll react.

Or perhaps she’s trying to scare her away. But why?