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Back The Midnight Lie
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. EPILOGUE
  57. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  58. Also by Marie Rutkoski
  59. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  60. Newsletter Sign-up

“Oh, I see. You want a cut of it. Well.” She busied herself pouring a cup of pink tea. “I can’t say that I am pleased by your greed. My plan was always to share everything with you. There is no need to be so demanding. Here.” She offered me the cup.

I dashed it from her hand.

“Nirrim!”

“That’s blood. You are drinking someone’s blood!”

“You are completely hysterical. Calm yourself right now, or you will answer to my hand. Blood! Nonsense. It is simply a drink that will make you prettier. I am being nice to you, and this is the thanks I get.”

“I am telling you the truth.”

She sighed impatiently. “Need we worry about everything? Am I supposed to never eat, out of pity for all the poor animals and plants that must die to feed me? Am I supposed to give everything I have to people who have less? Am I supposed to work for free? If there is blood in the tea, it surely can’t be much, given the color. It’s not as if someone died.”

“I don’t want any.”

“More for me, then.” She poured herself another cup. “Why don’t you lie down in your bedroom, dear? The sheets have been laundered with that soap you like, and I’ll have the maid bring you a cup of cold, honeyed milk. You’ll have a nice rest, and when you wake we will plan our future together.”

“My room,” I said.

“There you go again, repeating things like one of those pea-brained ithya birds. Yes, your room. Nirrim, I always planned to bring you here one day. You are my best girl.”

“Why should I believe you? You have done nothing but lie.”

Her smile was small, hard, appraising. She set aside her cup. “That is the question of someone grown. Not a child anymore, are you? Follow me, and you will see what I’ve done for you.” She took my hand. Hers blazed with heat. Mine must have felt like a block of ice as she led me upstairs and unlocked a door with a porcelain handle painted blue, in a pattern of one of my printed breads. She pushed open the door.

The bed was sweetly made, the counterpane embroidered with sprays of roses, a flower I had never seen before I left the Ward. The wardrobe, when I opened it, was full of dresses tailored to my size, the cotton soft. A beveled mirror set inside the wardrobe door showed my pale face. There were sandals, the leather stiffly new.