Chapter 19: What Genevieve Wanted

Rosalind's POV

Genevieve stood in front of four hundred people with her braid undone and her face wet and ugly.

Nobody gave her a handkerchief.

"You want to know why?" she said. "Fine. I'll tell you why."

She turned in a circle, so that every bench could see her.

"I was born in the gatehouse. My father opened the gate for the Crowhurst carriage every morning of his life."

"I watched Alaric's family ride past me, and I watched him learn to walk in the sun."

"He used to come down and sit on our step. He told me I'd always be his best friend."

Alaric flinched beside the slab.

"Best friend," Genevieve said, and laughed.

"I was eighteen. I read my father's book, and I found out what the ring was."

"A girl from a gatehouse could never be given it."

"So I married a human man and waited. And when he died, I came back with a little girl and a cardigan."

"Everyone said, poor Genevieve."

"I let them."

The envoy tried to stand.

"Madam Aldine, you will be silent."

"You wanted her gone too!" she shouted, rounding on him.

"You said the next bride would be someone the Council could manage. You said it would be me!"

The hall gasped.

The envoy sat down again, very slowly.

I stepped off the slab.

I was shaking all over, and I walked until I stood two feet from her.

"You used a child," I said. "You told her to eat my cake."

"She's five. She doesn't know anything."

"No. She doesn't." I kept my voice level. "That's what I mean."

Genevieve stared at me.

"I would have liked you," I said. "Before. I really thought you were kind."

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