Page 66 of A Lesson in Thorns (Thornchapel 1)
Auden learned that the hard way.
It’s uncomfortably like what my father said about learning how dangerous Thornchapel was with my mother, and I have a real moment where my angry, hurt feelings about Saint slide into all the angry and hurt feelings I still have about Mom. Poison and danger, daughter and mother. Alive and dead.
There’s a knock at the door, and given that I’ve only just entered, I’m close enough to pop open the knob without taking another step.
Delphine stands there in pajamas, two colorful packets in her hand. “I want to do face masks,” she declares, and then without waiting for me to answer, she comes inside my room and deposits herself on my bed.
“Um,” I say.
She’s already opening the first packet. “Don’t you want to have clear, dewy skin for the ritual tomorrow?”
“It hadn’t occurred to me,” I answer honestly.
She tugs the slimy mask free and unfolds it into its horrific fake-face shape. “Here. You need it.” She narrows her eyes at me as I approach and take it from her. “Have you been crying?”
“No,” I say.
“So you’re about to cry, then.”
“I’m not,” I protest through gritted teeth.
“Your eyes are glassy and your chin is doing the thing. Come onnnn, put the face mask on, I promise you’ll feel better.”
With a sigh, I obey. When Delphine wants something, she is a force of nature, and I’m too tired to fight nature right now. I lie down on the bed, adjust the cold, glutinous mask over my face, and then close my eyes to wait.
“So what happened between you and Saint?” Delphine asks, settling in next to me. Even through her pajamas and my sweater, her shoulder is warm and soft, and she strokes an idle foot along my shin in a casually sexy way that raises goosebumps along my flesh.
How has Auden not fucked her yet?
Since I don’t feel particularly invested in protecting Saint’s pride at the moment, I answer, “Well, we kissed and then he told me he was poison and stormed out.”
“Oh my God, really?” Delphine says.
“Yes, really. And it’s not the first time it’s happened. I should have seen it coming.”
“You mean he’s kissed you and told you he was poison before?”
“The night we played Spin the Bottle, I chased him out and we . . . you know. Had a moment. Then he said we couldn’t be together.” I feel even stupider now that I’m saying all of this out loud. When did I become a Russian Doll girl? Except instead of dying over and over again, I’m just doomed to repeat the same kiss and the same fight with St. Sebastian Martinez.
“Why can’t you be together?” Delphine asks, puzzled.
I open my mouth and then close it again, having to readjust the mask as I think. I can’t tell her about the village and what it thinks about me marrying Auden; it’s too ridiculous and it could be hurtful and I’m not going to burden Delphine with it—
“Is this about Ralph wanting you to marry Auden?” Delphine says, and I freeze.
“You know about that?” I ask, shocked.
I feel her hand wave my question away. “Oh, everyone knows about that. He even told me before he died. ‘If you marry my boy and keep him from Proserpina Markham, you’ll be damning him to hell’ or something like that. I mostly ignored him.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Delphine, please know that I don’t have any intention of—”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Stop. Ralph was beastly, and nobody would ever blame you for the things he said. I told him to fuck right off.” She laughs. “Golly, that made him furious.”
“Why was he so obsessed with this idea? Me marrying Auden? It’s just so random.”
“Well, I used to think him quite mad . . . but then I saw how Auden looked at you when he was spanking you, and I have to say, it didn’t seem quite so delusional then.”
Her voice is so mild, so unaccusin
