Tornado of Nightmares (Book 2)

eighteen

Ember

GROWING UP, I HAD ALWAYS MADE SUCH A FUSS ABOUT LIVING IN MY SISTER'S SHADOW. Figuratively, that is. Everyone around me was obsessed with who she was, they wanted to be in orbit around her. It was nauseating at times, but I understood it. She had this aura about her, it brought people in. Made them never want to leave.

I had told myself that, now that things were different, I would never put myself in that kind of situation again. I would be who I was. My own person. Though, it's funny, because I'm quite literally in Jill's shadow. Things are different this time, I'm not in her shadow—figuratively. But, literally. Currently, I am hiding in the shadow of Jill's silhouette. Mirroring her as she walks down the halls of the castle. Taking us to Lawrence's room. Which, I'm assuming, is still the room we once shared. If he's gone somewhere else, then I don't know. I was trapped in the castle for almost a month, yet, know absolutely nothing about it. I don't know where a single thing is. If I were asked to find the bathrooms, I'd probably walk in on a courtesan being used by a councilman.

It sends a shiver down my spine. I hate how dirty the castle is. How women are to serve the nobility with their bodies. It's horrible.

I watch as Jill rounds a corner. A guard passes her, he flashes her a smile. His eyes lingering on her cleavage. He looks a handful of years older than us, but there is something about him that makes me want to go and take a shower after being in contact with him. Jill seems to smile back at him, looking back at him long enough to make him blush. Okay, I think she's buttering it on a bit too sweet here.

Take it down a notch. I tell her. The guard is finally out of our sight. Jill visibly exhales. She looks spent and so tired. Because she gave me her godsdamn strength. What is it with people giving me their strength and leaving themselves vulnerable? It is incredibly stupid. I know that Jill had not intended for her to be the plan, but still. It was careless.

Jill wipes her palms on the front of her dress. Nervously. She's an amazing actress, I'll give her that. For someone who has never had to wear a ball gown before, she's pulling it off pretty well. She holds herself steady and sure, even though I see her hands are shaking. It's evident that she doesn't enjoy violence. I get it, when I was young, I hated it. But I had to adapt quickly, I couldn't sit by and not do my job. Then again, my world is completely different than Jill's. She grew up in a happy home, despite the fact that her mother was convinced that everything that came out of her mouth was a delusion caused by her illness.

When we were still at Jill's house, Jeremy came to talk to me. To be fair, I was sure he was gearing up for another round. I was preparing to punch him in the face again when he apologized. He said he was being a dick and that he was only joking. Then he got frazzled.

"I'm not saying I was joking about you being attractive, because you are, very, good looking." He rushed out. "Not that I'm obsessed with your looks, I prefer personality anyways." Then he nearly whimpered in dismay, I was fighting back a laugh. "Not that you don't have a personality. Of course, you do, I just don't know you well enough yet—"

"It's all right, Jeremy." I told him, because it was. I was over it, and I knew he meant no ill will, he just was the kind of kid who talked out of his ass and didn't realize it. "I'm not upset. Though, your delivery could use some work."

He rubbed the nape of his neck, a sheepish smile on his lips. "Yeah. Probably."

I thought the conversation was over. But he continued to stand in front of me, like he had so much more to say, but didn't know where to start. How to formulate his sentences and get them outright.