A Wicked Thing by Rhiannon Thomas Page A

so bluntly, so matter-of-factly, that it took Aurora a moment to realize what he had said. “That’s why I had to move here. Why I live in an inn. I’m guessing that you’re not particularly surrounded by family either.”
    She shook her head, unable to form the words. My parents are dead. It was too horrible, too undeniable, to say out loud. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, trying to blow away the tightness in her chest. They sat, silent except for their breathing and the occasional sound of life below.
    â€œDoes it get any easier?” she asked, after so much time hadpassed that she was sure he had forgotten their conversation.
    â€œNo.” The word fell heavy in the air, but it wasn’t sad. Painfully, bluntly honest, but not sad. Aurora let the word roll in her mind, relishing its plainness. “It doesn’t. But—I don’t know. You find other reasons to live.”
    The lights flickered below them. With her eyes fixed on the forest, she reached out and grabbed Tristan’s hand. For a heartbeat, he paused, and then he squeezed tight, his thumb tracing shivers across her skin.

EIGHT
    â€œPRINCESS?” A HAND LAY ACROSS HERS. “PRINCESS, it’s time to wake up.”
    Aurora dragged her eyes open, blinking in the bright light. Betsy stood in front of her, dark curls frizzing wildly around her face. “Princess, why are you sleeping here?”
    â€œI was reading,” she said. “I must have fallen asleep.” The Tale of Sleeping Beauty lay open under her elbow, balanced precariously on the arm of the chair. The paintings of her mother and father smiled up at her. She tried to sit straighter, and her shoulder ached in protest.
    â€œOh, Princess, you must get some proper rest,” Betsy said.She placed her breakfast tray on the table nearby. “I worry about you. Sometimes you look like you never sleep at all.”
    â€œI’ve already slept more than I’ll ever need to,” Aurora said. She forced a small smile.
    â€œBut you still need real sleep, if I may say so.”
    â€œI’m adjusting.”
    Betsy put a plate down by Aurora’s side. “At least you can eat.” Aurora picked up a jam-covered roll and took a tentative bite, letting its sweetness fill her mouth.
    â€œWhere are you from, Betsy?” Aurora asked as the maid turned away to the wardrobe. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
    â€œI don’t mind,” Betsy said. “But it’s not very interesting. I was born in Petrichor. My mum has worked in the castle for as long as I remember—she worked for the old king, before that guard killed him. I didn’t work here then, though. But my father, he was a blacksmith, and when he died, my mum moved us both here. Best place to be, she says, long as you keep your nose out of people’s business and do what you’re told.” She blushed. “But you probably didn’t want to know all that.”
    â€œI do,” Aurora said. “I want to know. Is it—your mother didn’t think it was safe outside the castle?”
    â€œWell, my dad, he was killed during a riot a few years ago. Not everyone likes people with ties to the royal family, and he did work for them, shoeing the horses and the like. But where else could we work, except here? Better to live inside the walls and eat well and stay safe, than try to be in both worlds at once,out there and in here. Or so my mum says. Don’t get me wrong, the people are good here, in the city and in the castle. But as I’m sure you’ve heard, Princess, it hasn’t been the best of times while you were asleep.” She turned back to the wardrobe. “How about the blue dress today?” she said. “I think it will look lovely for spring.”
    Aurora nodded.
    Betsy fidgeted as she arranged Aurora’s hair, taking the same pin in and out several times, as though uncertain what to do.