23

Anzi said nothing after that, neither when she picked Violetta up from the ground nor when she helped clean off her bloody face nor even when they returned to the palace. Whatever the reason for Violetta’s willing subjection to such mistreatment, it was up to her to confess it. She was an adult. They were both adults. And they were neither friends nor each other’s confidants.

“I lied to you,” Violetta blurted. She had whirled around to face Anzi with clear, stubborn eyes, and her hands were clasped together white-knucked-tight over her chest. A semi-defiant incline raised her chin.

“Lied?” Anzi repeated. “How.”

“I told you the girl who was supposed to teach you is sick. Berenice. She is, but what I didn’t tell you is that today, everyone else planned to go out into the city. But someone has to stay behind to entertain any unexpected guests, and that’s me. It’s always me, every time. I stay behind and mend the