“She falls silent whenever she disagrees with people,” said Gabrielle Mirren, and I stopped leaning on the pillar so I could see her. She was dressed in expensively discreet gray. “And she is silent a great deal.”
I had not noticed the members of the Light Council paying attention to how I acted before. I had not thought that they would care much about me, but of course Ethan and I were new additions, and this was a time of misery and unrest. There would be a vote soon, with at least one new member chosen to replace Charles, and who knew how the balance of power might shift on the council? They were all searching for allies, and I was convenient and connected to a Stryker.
I told myself that they might be useful and tried to pin a smile on my face. I found I could not.
I was so tired.
“Consider this,” I said. “When a girl sits and smiles and is silent, you can decide you know her, but that does not mean you do. Don’t read into my silences or my smiles. Don’t assume that you know a thing about me.”
I walked away from them and did not look back at my new enemies. Walking through these people was like wading deep in the sea, feeling as if the waters were closing over my head every moment. None of the faces were distinct—the light all around was too dazzling for that. It was like being blind.
Until I saw one face, the pale, ordinary countenance of a waiter. He was someone that nobody at this party would have looked at twice, more an appliance than a person to them.
I knew him. I was almost sure I knew him. His face was familiar, even though I did not know where I knew him from, and suddenly he was the one person I wanted to talk to. I surged forward but felt a hand catch at my elbow and grip hold, keeping me anchored to a spot where I had no wish to be.
I turned around, ready to spit in Carwyn’s face, and saw another face instead, like Ethan’s but not an exact copy, hazel eyes narrowed in what looked like worry rather than his usual confusion. Jim Stryker.
“Can I talk to you a minute?” Jim asked.
“I can’t right now, Jim,” I said curtly.
“Please,” said Jim. “It’s about Ethan.”
The waiter, the whole party, all seemed to rush away with a dull roar. I had been afraid of Mark. Jim was not quick enough to notice anything. I had never thought he might suspect.
“You’ve gone white,” said Jim. “So you’ve noticed it too. The strange way he’s behaving.”
I laced my cold fingers together and swallowed down a cold retort. “How do you mean?” I asked in a distant voice.
Jim looked around the Grand Ballroom, and I followed the line of his sight, the light of the chandelier above and the glitter the chandelier cast on the gleaming circles of the people below. There was so much brightness that the room blurred before my eyes, turning into a sea of stars.
“It’s like he’s a different person,” Jim answered slowly. “He talks to me and Dad like he hates us. He was always smarter than me, but he never . . . he never used it, like he does now. I get it, of course. Uncle Charlie’s death wasn’t easy on any of us, but can’t you . . . I was wondering if you could talk to him. He obviously still likes you. You’re the only one he still likes.”
The relief almost made me laugh.
“Oh yeah, all the disgusting comments he makes indicate deep affection.”
“He’s teasing you,” said Jim defensively. Even though he had just been complaining about how Carwyn behaved, the way he behaved to me had to be all right. As if any attention paid to a girl was a compliment, and a compliment I should accept.
“I don’t care why he behaves the way he does,” I said. “Why should I care what he feels when he doesn’t care about what I feel? I don’t like it, and he doesn’t stop. That’s all I need to know.”
“Wow,” said Jim. He looked a little lost, and a little hurt. “Are you guys going to break up? I always thought of you two as the couple that was going to make it and stay together while everybody else got super freaky in college.” He stopped talking when he saw the twist of my mouth, smiled to placate me, and with a sweeping gesture to his own white shirtfront said, “I mean, why else would you go for Ethan and turn down all this? Am I right?”
I smiled reluctantly back.
I had started thinking about things like that once I met Ethan: wearing a white dress, inscribing promises of Light with my rings onto Ethan’s skin. Once I had believed that ordinary girlish dreams like fairy-tale weddings had died with my mother, but Ethan let me dream again.
I had never wanted Ethan to save me. But I had always been so grateful to him for saving my dreams, for bringing the hope in me back to life.