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I knew this was coming. Since the abduction attempt, I’d accepted that there was a high chance that the Queen would summon me to the capital, and I knew that could mean an earlier than expected Ascension. That was probably why I wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t explain the lack of dread and fear.
All I felt was…acceptance. Maybe even a little relief because this castle was now the last place I wanted to be, and I wasn’t thinking about what could happen when I got to the capital. I wasn’t even thinking about seeing Ian again. I knew what else I felt, though. And that was confusion.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “How am I not punished?”
Hawke turned to me, and without looking, I knew he probably had the same expression on his face that Vikter would have had.
The Duchess didn’t respond for a long moment until she said, “I assume you’re speaking about Lord Mazeen.”
My stomach tightened as I nodded.
Her head tilted. “Do you think you should be punished?”
I started to respond as I would’ve two weeks ago before the attack, back when I was still trying so damn hard to be what I was begi
“Why not?” Curiosity marked her features.
“Because…there was a history there.” I settled on that, aware of how Tawny shifted so her leg pressed against mine. I drew in a deep breath. “I know I should be punished.”
“You should,” she agreed. “He was an Ascended, one of our oldest.”
Tension radiated from Hawke as I felt him move just the slightest bit toward me.
“You cut him up like a butcher would a slab of meat,” she continued. I should’ve felt horror or disgust—anything other than the surge of gratification that swamped me. “But I’m sure you had your reasons.”
My mouth dropped open.
The Duchess leaned back as she picked up a quill. “I’ve known Bran for many, many years, and there is very little about his…personality that I am unaware of. I had hoped that he would’ve known better given what you are. Apparently, I was wrong.”
I tipped forward. “Did you—?”
“I would not ask that question,” she interrupted, her unflinching stare locking on mine. “You would not like my answer, nor would you understand. Neither would I expect you to. Take this as a much-needed lesson, Penellaphe. Some truths do nothing but destroy and decay what they do not obliterate. Truths do not always set one free. Only a fool who has spent their entire life being fed lies believes that.”
Chest rising and falling, I snapped my mouth shut and sat back. She knew. She’d always known about the Lord and the Duke. Maybe not what they’d done exactly, but she knew. My fingers dug into the skirt of my gown.
“You’re the Maiden,” she continued. “That is why you will not be punished. Count your blessings, and do not speak of them ever again.” A muscle twitched under her eye. “And do yourself a favor. Do not waste another moment thinking of either of them. I know I will not.”
I stared at her as her white-knuckled grip on the quill eased. It struck me then. If the Duke had treated me as he did, why had I assumed he would treat his wife any differently? After all, I’d never seen them being loving towards one another, and that went beyond the almost cool nature of the Ascended. I’d never seen them touch. Being an Ascended didn’t mean you were no longer in a position to be abused.
Lowering my gaze, I nodded. “When…when do I leave for the capital?”
“Tomorrow morning,” she answered. “You will leave with the rise of the sun.”