Page 25 of Secrets of the Six

"An orphan from the Brogratto wasn't exactly welcome to participate. If I was caught, I'd be shooed away on a good day and beaten on a bad one. After a few too many bruises, I'd do as I was told and go back to my side of the city with the other guttersnipes."

That seems to strike a nerve with him. The curiosity in his eyes fizzles, making way for sorrow. "I'm sorry that was your childhood, Vibora."

"It's fine." I shrug, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. "It's the way of the world."

"That doesn't make it right. You deserved better." His eyes soften when he whispers, "You still deserve better."

His words spear through the small crack in the wall I've maintained all these years and pierce my heart.

"You deserved better. You still deserve better."

"You are nothing. You are no one."

Salvador's words battle Marco's and my limbs go numb.

Suddenly, my skin is both sweaty and clammy and I can't breathe.

I claw at my dress, as if the fabric is what is constricting me, and stumble to the floor.

Salvador kneels in front of me and plants his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to meet his line of sight.

"What's wrong? Tell me what you need."

"Air," I gasp. "I can't… breathe."

Without a second's hesitation, Salvador flicks a knife from his boot and slices the back of my dress, so it falls open. I clutch it to my chest so I'm not fully exposed and take a moment to sit and catch my breath.

Doña Otero dismisses the musicians as she beckons for Lupe to bring me a glass of water, but Salvador doesn't move a muscle. He stays directly in my line of sight, and it isn't until my breathing levels out that I realize he's holding my hand, his thumb gently stroking my knuckles.

"Are you alright?" he asks, and I nod, retrieving my hand from his.

"This damn dress is too tight," I grumble. "Made me lightheaded."

We both know it's a lie, but he doesn't call me out.

The truth is I allowed memories of my past to weasel their way back to the forefront of my mind, weakening my defense mechanisms and causing a spectacle.

Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to have someone show sympathy for my lack of an upbringing. I'm used to fending for myself in a cruel and wicked society, but here, for the first time in my life, I feel seen. And I hate it. I feel naked. In fact, I'd rather strut down the street for all of Orlencia to see in nothing but the body I was born in, than have Salvador – or anyone else for that matter – offer sympathy for the tragedy that is my life. I might not have fine things or a family to call mine, but I have my own unyielding will and shall never cower to anyone ever again.

Against Lupe's instructions to keep still, I stagger to my feet and bow my head in a show of respect to Doña Otero. "I will be in my room if you need me, Doña. Unless you have further use for me."

Doña Otero shakes her head and motions for me to leave. "Take the remainder of the day to rest, mi querida."

Not needing her to tell me twice, I march out of the room, dismissing Lupe's attempts in aiding me, to retreat to my quarters and take a nice, warm bath in attempts to forget the viciousness that was my childhood.

As I climb the grand staircase, Marco's face pops into my mind and I shudder.

He was the first man I permitted myself to love, and he was also the first man I murdered.

Once I healed from his brutal assault, I waited for him in the darkness, a place I had become familiar and comfortable with. I was a brash eighteen-year-old who had not only been lied to and taken advantage of but had been left for dead. His mistake. I was naive to believe I could be a lady and marry a man outside the Brogratto, but I didn't have to allow him to escape justice for what he put me through.

He stumbled out of a bar in the Night District, the cold and bitter chill in the air whipping around like death's final caress. When he parted from his friends, I seized the opportunity to slip from my hiding place and plunge my dagger into his heart. He died with my face as the last thing he saw.

No one discovered his body. I made sure of it. The sea is his final resting place and to this day, I feel no remorse.

I blink and see Salvador's sympathetic eyes and rage bubbles in the pit of my stomach. The next time we meet, there won't be a crack in my armor for him to prod. At the end of the day, I'm the only person I can count on, the only person I can trust. He can take his pity and shove it straight up his ass.

Pull yourself together, Ines. Pull yourself together.