Page 19 of Wicked Queen

“She can’t come here.” Mary looked around like we were in the middle of a shack.

“There are nearly eight hundred rooms in this house,” Clara said dryly. “We can find room.”

I fell in love with her a little bit more. Few people would stand up to Mary. Mary herself made it her mission to condescend to my wife at every opportunity. Clara no longer took any of it.

Then, I remembered that while I was falling in love, my wife had accepted a life of duty that no longer included feeling the same about me. My jaw clenched as I considered this, only partially aware of the bickering that had broken out between the group surrounding me.

Democracy was getting us nowhere. I should have stuck with being a king. “Enough. Sarah will come here. Clara?”

It was a statement to everyone else, but a question for Clara. Our eyes locked together, everyone else fading away. She could overrule me. She had that power, and she needed to know it. Norris was right. I might not deserve Clara, but I needed her. And I wasn’t going to win her back by dealing her out. She had to have equal say.

“Sarah will come home,” she repeated, changing the final word.

It was a little thing to notice—that simple word change. This was still Clara’s home—our home. But I saw it for what it was: a tiny speck of light blinking at the edge of my darkness.

Chapter 9

Clara

Sarah’s room was practically a time capsule. I was surprised to find no dust when I drew back the curtains. Light slanted across a room that time might have forgotten but housekeeping had not. It was then I realized that Albert had never given up hope. He’d kept her bedroom ready, as if she might walk into it at any moment.

A copy of Twilight sat on her bedside table next to a long-dead mobile phone. Would she come looking for these things? She’d gone away a girl and she was coming back a woman who’d missed ten years. As far as I knew, Sarah had never fallen in love. She hadn’t gone to college. She’d missed her brothers’ weddings. Life had moved on without her. She was as frozen in time as her room.

I’d never come here before. It felt like a violation. Now it was up to me to prepare it for her return, but I didn’t know where to start. I sat on the bed and stared at the remnants of the lost girl, feeling a strange kinship.

Except it wasn’t the last ten years I’d lost, it was the present. I was going through the motions, caught in an endless cycle of doing as I was told and having the rug pulled out from under me. I understood feeling powerless. I didn’t know Sarah. I actually knew very little about her. I’d always been hesitant to bring her up to Alexander and Edward. I regretted that now.

Was she the type of girl who wanted to pretend like nothing had happened? Would she walk back into this room and pick up where she’d left off? Or would being reminded of that stolen time sting and burn? I was an expert at pretending to pick up where I left off and that was getting me nowhere.

Taking out my mobile, I made a call.

“God, I haven’t been here in years.” Edward surveyed the room in wonder. “I snuck in after…after she died. I mean, after the accident.”

“I think it’s going to take us all a while to get used to her being back. I didn’t know if calling you for help was the right thing to do, but I can’t bring Alexander here. He blames himself for all of it—the cover-up and the lies. I can’t make him face this,” I explained.

“I want to help.” Edward sat beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “But he is to blame. At least partially.”

“I know that. I do, truly,” I said when he made a clucking sound.

“Do you?”

“Yes, and he has to be held accountable, but he also has to be forgiven,” I said softly. I’d seen the darkness growing in Alexander, threatening to consume him. It had been foolish to believe we’d vanquished it. Darkness was part of him—it drew me to him—and I was always waiting for the gates to open and let it through.

“I don’t know if I can.” Edward hung his head in shame. “I don’t know how you can, either.”

“If I stopped forgiving Alexander I wouldn’t be able to look at him. It’s part of the whole marriage package.”

“I heard you two yelling after the press conference,” Edward confessed, turning to study me. “I heard him tell you to leave. I thought about coming in, but…”

My throat slid as I considered what to say. I was glad he hadn’t. That afternoon had been the first time I’d been with my husband in weeks. For the last few nights, I’d had to come to accept that it might have been the last time I would ever be with him again.

“I can’t talk about that.” The words came out as broken as I felt. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” he said quickly, his curiosity shifting to worry. He lifted his arms from my shoulder and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But you know he doesn’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not so sure.” Trying to figure out what Alexander wanted was like trying to fit two different puzzles together. Every time I thought I knew who he was, I’d turn over a piece to discover that it didn’t fit.

“That’s not what’s really important. Do you want to leave?”