Fangs of a Butterfly

CHAPTER 28

Days passed after the mourning, and I prepared to leave.

Back in my room I packed my bags. I never had a suitcase or luggage so it was my first time, and I didn't know what to bring.

But I have to learn.

I remembered Christmas. The scary outsiders. Their dirty peasant faces. What would they do if they knew Agnes was gone? Would they burn the castle or kill us?

I would leave before that happens. I'll abandon Sabine if she wouldn't come with me.

I slipped to Agnes' room and there, as I knew, she kept money. I put the coins and folded paper in a small purse that hung from the body. I put it over my neck, and kept other money in my luggage. I sought out small, precious things. Weapons, too, a small knife in a leather sheath.

Clothes were not important, I'll buy what I want outside and I wasn't afraid of the cold. I needed things that would be useful. I didn't tell any of the men, or Cecile. By the time I ransacked Agnes's drawers and dresser I was ready.

I turned with a sigh and Primrose stood there. I swallowed an automatic yelp.

"Take the girls, too," she ended up saying.

"I was going to," I replied.

"Clothing is in the other room." She tilted her chin to a smaller room with trunks of clothing, outside and inside.

Primrose helped me and the children silently, but the air about her told me she wanted me gone as soon as possible.

"Don't waste the blood," she said when she handed me a familiar vial. It was differently shaped, and I wondered about it until I realized it. Sabine had filled up multiple vials for all of us.

"We all love her," I whispered. "How can we not, when she loves us so much?"

Primrose watched me hold the glass to my lips and then whispered. "Yes."

Maybe letting her slap me was worth it.

I placed it in my purse and pulled the cord tightly to close it. I took Lark's small hand in one and made sure Adalyn and Bernadette were holding hands and didn't lose one another in the night.

Leaving was not sad. I looked at the castle in hatred. I no longer loved my mother nor the song she sang. Agnes had died and I felt confusion as I grieved. Why? Was I not always wishing for her death? And Selma and Rowena were sitting helplessly in the council's room without their master.

But most of all, I was eager to leave Uriel. The men. Even Cecile, who was so lovestruck she was being a fool. She was growing completely dependent on them, who knew nothing of her illness and the troubles she had.

As the sky darkened I hurried to the other side where the port was, making sure the girls had dirt on their face and I, myself, drew on blemishes and put white powder over my eyebrows and lips. I was no longer beautiful when I looked up, and my scowl made me look—ugly.

I was carrying a trunk and Adalyn another. Then I reached the village I always saw inside my tower. I knew what to do, ask the unsuspecting children where the ship to leave this island was, then buy a pass. The children might get away without any. Jardin took a day, so we needed a room, so the sun didn't burn us, too.

I had it all planned out, and if they needed help we had Uriel—wait.

No. What was I saying?

The hot tears came to my face and I wouldn't wipe it, in case it washed away the blemishes I drew. I breathed heavily and hard as I walked away, and then Lark touched my hands gently.