Page 143 of Because I Killed Him
“I know you admire your grandfather’s achievements,” Phillipa says, though there’s no pride in her voice, only pressure. “But his sacrifices belong to another era. The only path to glory now is through politics. Like your father. Like your brother.”
“Glory?” Edmund’s tone bristles. His expression, already drawn, ices over with contempt. “We once fought to protect our world, Mother. Ourpeople. Now we fight to protect our power. Tell me—where is the glory in that?”
Phillipa’s hand clenches the Doberman’s fur so tightly that it whines. “Ourpeople?”
“The low-citizens are not like us,” he replies. “But they were once, before we divided ourselves. I will not forget that.”
Her lips curl in revulsion. She shoves the dog aside, and as it scurries to the corner, she raises a finger toward Edmund, her eyes flashing.
“There’s a line, Edmund—one you’re dangerously close to crossing. For years, I’ve tolerated your inappropriate proximity to your low-citizen companions. But once you marry Irene, that ends. Neither she nor I will—”
“Miss Hussey has no say in the matter,” Edmund cuts in. “The terms were clear. If she harms Mr. Carroway or Mr. Langley or attempts to threaten them in any way, the contract is void.” He pauses, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “But it will be void either way.”
Phillipa’s brow creases. “How so?”
“Miss Hussey is imprisoned, awaiting trial for a crime she will soon be convicted of.”
Phillipa scoffs and flicks a hand in dismissal. “She will not be convicted. We already have—”
“Whatever plan you have in motion, I will not support it.” Edmund steps closer, his movements growing restless, like that horse again, circling its pen, pacing toward a break. “I will protect the key witness with my life until the trial concludes. And after.”
Phillipa goes still, her hands hovering mid-air. “Bruce Waldsten’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Because she’s in your entourage?”
“Because she is my friend.”
Phillipa’s mouth pinches at the corners. Her fingers drift to the pearl on her bracelet, scratching the dull nacre as if consulting it for advice. Then, with a slow, shuddering breath, she blinks until her eyes well up again.
“Edmund,” she says quietly, “I’ve done my best not to interfere in your low-citizen relationships, but this time it’s different. You know what your father thought of Miss Waldsten’s parents. You know whatIthink. That family has earned our hatred more than any other, and if you continue prioritizing Miss Waldsten over your fiancée—overme—I’ll consider it a betrayal.”
Edmund watches, unmoved, as a single tear spills down her cheek. “I am not an empty vessel into which you may pour your grudges, Mother. Your enemies are not my own.”
I ease forward from my crouch, trying to get a better angle on him through the curtains. The tension between them feels like an old, hardened blister, pressurized and ready to split. While it’s far worse than any argument I’ve had with Dad, the words themselves are familiar. I’ve lost count of how many times my parents warned me about the Prews, saying that if I ever had a reason to fear a Blue family, it would be them. But now I see it goes both ways.
Whatever lies at the center of this feud, it’s not new. It’s older than both Edmund and me, buried deep between our families like roots beneathfloorboards, silent until the day they grow strong enough to break through.
“And what about Irene?” Phillipa demands. “Does it not concern you that her family and the Waldstens are also at odds? That you are allowing a personal entanglement to cloud your obligation?”
“No. It does not.”
“So, itisbetrayal, then.” Phillipa’s mouth twists into a snarl. “Youarechoosing a low-citizen over your oath.”
Edmund’s hand curls into a fist so tight it looks bloodless. “Do not speak to me of honor, Mother. I was prepared to uphold my oath to Miss Hussey. I had already resigned myself to the marriage, even to the prospect of children. But by breaking the law, she forfeited the protection that oath once offered. And I will not shield her from the consequences.”
“It’s more than a consequence, Edmund—it’s execution.Death.You truly won’t help her? Not even on my behalf?”
He pauses, his eyes smiling again.
“Yes, Mother. Once Miss Hussey is convicted, I shall personally help her into the back of the Copper transport.”
More tears stream from Phillipa’s eyes, but there’s no grief left, only anger. Her hand trembles as she scrubs them away with a vicious swipe, then turns on her heel and rushes toward the half-open door.
The Dobermans remain behind and begin circling Edmund. He angles away with a curse, his chest rising once, then stilling as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his face is bone-white. He exhales a ragged breath and folds his hands behind his back, fingers locking at the base of his spine.
Everything in me stops: the breath, the shivering, even the chatter of my teeth. I don’t know what I’m watching, only that Phillipa never meant to leave the room.
