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“I should’ve been here for the first feeding,” Yves said, smoothing Adrien’s hair. “This is my fault.”

“No.” The word came out of me forcefully. “Whether you were here or not, the result would’ve been the same. This is clearly my fault.”

I’d hurt this sweet, charming boy that everyone demonized. I recalled how Yves assumed Adrien was to blame for my broken nails. Duval made sure to warn me about the nanny he shoved to the ground. Then Severin’s comments about him wandering. Adrien himself even lamented his inability to listen.

The bedroom door opened, and Severin appeared. The very last person I wanted to see. He surveyed the scene with a disbelieving sneer as he stepped inside. His dark eyes landed on me. Full of accusation. A sick feeling rose in my stomach.

He didn't say, ‘This is what comes of hiring a witch,’ but he didn’t need to. It was written all over his face.

Severin spoke to his uncle in a dialect of Old Sang called Sanguisi that I wasn’t familiar with. I could only pick up a word or two.

Demon.

Tolerance—no, tolerate.

I listened, mortified. When they both fell silent, I felt even worse, regarding Adrien as he shivered. I took comfort in the fact that neither one of them looked as if he was going to die.

“Well, what is it?” I asked. “Will he be alright?”

Yves took the damp washcloth from Mr. Duval and dabbed at Adrien’s chin. “Some young vampires need to build a tolerance to magickal blood,” Yves explained. “This is a reaction to his first encounter with magick. He’ll recover and be just fine.”

Severin added, “This is why noble blood is preferred and why witches are not hired for the position.”

A low, throaty growl emanated from Yves’s chest. It made the hairs on my arms stand straight up like a warning sound from a predator.

“Before I go, you should know that Lady Christine stopped to ask me if she could send a maid to be of use.” Severin cut a scathing look at me. “They heard her screaming.”

What Severin meant was they heard me screaming the duke’s name. Not a pleasantry or a title. His given name. A stupid misstep that he was going to hold against me, in addition to nearly poisoning his cousin.

“Of course she was screaming for me!” Yves snapped back. “She’s Adrien’s nanny. He’s sick.” He leveled Severin with a glare I hadn’t seen before. “Keep them out of here. And then get back to our investigation.”

Severin bowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

He disappeared from the room like a phantom.

I couldn’t bear to look at Adrien, so I began trying to clean up the mess, getting down on my hands and knees and scrubbing at the blood stain on the carpet. I was here, in the room, and in the icy river, scrubbing the blood from my skirt.

My broken fingernails ached, but I didn’t care. I scrubbed harder.

I’d known this arrangement was a bad idea from the start. I was better off alone with my garden and my herbs and potions. Everyone around me got hurt. Everyone I cared about died.

“Cora, stop.”

I shook my head. Tears blurring my vision. Yves tried to pull the rag from my grip, but I smacked him in the shoulder.

“Let me fix this!” I shouted at him.

“There is nothing to fix!”

He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled the rag free, tossing it on the ground. I tried to snatch it back, but he held me by the shoulders.

“Cora, look at me. Look at me!”

I refused, struggling against his hold. “Let me go!”

He got both his arms around me, crushing my arms against my side, holding me against his chest. He didn’t let go. Not even when I cursed him. Not even when I started sobbing. My forehead fell against his shoulder. “What am I doing here?” I asked. “Just let me disappear.”

Yves held me as I not-so-quietly fell apart. I’d kept in all the grief I had for my family for all these weeks. I’d kept the tears at bay by telling myself it was my mother’s fault. She was to blame. I still believed that, but I also knew I wasn't blameless.