In the morning I woke to find Windsor still asleep, snoring softly in a cocoon of a blanket. He’d be a cover stealer, I thought. I almost didn’t want to wake him. Almost.
“Get up beforethe villigers form a mob outside my house!" I caroled. He growled and rubbed his face against the floor, drawing his eyebrows up and musing his hair even more. Not for the first time I realized what made other girls like him. As much as I hated to admit it, the man was adorable.
I slunk into the kitchen and started up the stove for some bacon. No doubt he’d want breakfast. I turned around and eyeballed him, “You want food or not Dog?”
Windsor mumbled ascent, and pulled on my dad’s old coat. It was one of my favorites. There was a patch in the shape of a star on the back shoulder, where it had been ripped open by a rogue branch. I sewed on the patch myself. He caught me staring, “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, “Just reminiscing. That was one of my dad’s favorite coats.”
“Ah,” he said, as if he understood. I doubted it. Anthony Windsor had never wanted for anything, his daddy and mummy had made sure of that. “Sorry about what happened to him, and your mother, by the way.”
“It was a long time ago…” I said softly, begging him to change the subject with non-existent mental abilities.
“Still. Jeremy’s parents were killed in that fire too, you know.”
“Yeah, that was uh, that was where we met, at the funeral for the victims.” It felt strange, talking to Anthony about Jeremy. “He asked me to the Sunday Night Roast."
"Hmph. You’re not going.”
I laughed outright, the order was so absurd, and put the bacon on while sneaking a peak at him. He looked genuinely hurt. I clarified my outburst, “Says who?”
“The Deputy of Ajerbae. ‘S my duty to protect my citizens.”
“And you’re going to stop every else from going to the roast…”
His light brown eyes sparked, lip perking up in a snarl, “Only the young women Dandy.”
I turned around sharply, giving him a nasty look, “You think?...” He nodded, opening and shutting his mouth in a ‘well yeah,’ gesture. “But, Jeremy’s your best friend, Windsor!”
“And I smelt him all over the bodies a few nights ago, when I was down in the morgue. He’s been acting, strange, lately, Dandy. I don’t want to believe it any more than you do.” He buried his head in his hands, as if blocking himself from a blow, “But I don’t see any another option. I don’t want any more girls to die, and I’m not selfish enough to favor our friendship over their lives.”
“Or brave enough.” I was angry. I was furious. I was apoplectic. I didn’t trust myself to remain in the same room with him, I was so angry. I seriously considered waiting until all the grease was bubbling and hot then tossing it in his face. How dare he? How dare he?
A man found interest in me, and Windsor was just all jumpy and excited to take it away, well no sir.
He looked up at me sharply, eyebrows drawn down. “Well then how do you explain the smell on the bodies?”
“He probably brought them down there himself, handled them is all!”
“And he touched their cuts? He stuck his fingers in your cousin’s throat?” He said incredulously, eyes wide and cruel lips mocking me, “I thought you were smarter than that Dandelion Kingsley. I thought I could work with you without you falling head over heels for the first poor sap that fell into your path, but, being since you’re so desperate... I should let you have him.” His voice never rose above the mocking tone. The words themselves were shouts.
I backed up against the counter. So desperate, maybe I should let you have him…
“Well guess what?” Anthony threw up his hands, “I agree. Better a murderer in your bed than none at all am I right sweetheart?” he winked, and laughed.
My mouth was opened and quivering, just itching to scream at him. But I had no comebacks. My mind, usually so good at banter, drew a blank. I was stunned. I wanted to slap him, I wanted to tackle him, and stuff his face in fire for insulting
Jeremy and I so. But I couldn’t, I was struck dumb. Then the hurt started to set in, real soul numbing hurt. I turned back towards the bacon, turned off the burner, watching the meat sizzle. I wanted more than anything to say what truly was on my mind. Too bad for you, the only thing you can screw is the Silverston’s prize Setter. But the words never formed. I tried pushing them out, but all that was heard was my unstable breathing, like I’d just been socked in the stomach.
I turned and left the room, heart battering against my chest. The door made a soft thud as I closed it, and finally the tears starting rolling down my cheeks. I inhaled sharply, shocked at how such simple words that would mean nothing to a stranger could hurt me so. And why did his opinion matter anyway? Two days ago I would have killed for him to insult me, just so I could have reason to insult him back.
I crawled back into bed, all of a sudden aware at how I had barely slept a wink all night. I was weak, exhausted to my very bones. So much for big tough Dandelion. All I wanted to do was just sit in my room and cry. I reflected then; at all the other girls who had sobbed over a boy when they were too young to have been on their monthly yet, and more than ever I wanted to smack them. They didn’t know what hurt was. Or, perhaps they did and I’ve just been a bitch since forever. Right now, I leaned towards the latter..
I heard the front door slam shut.
