ALEX
“Profits are up twenty-two percent…” Dennis says, reading me his morning report.
But my attention is on Lord Cavinder, who’s just entered the theater with Phillip at his side.
“Will you excuse me for a minute?” I ask Dennis, already turning toward Frederick’s father.
“Good morning, Alexander,” Lord Cavinder says as if the events of last night never happened. “I trust you slept well?”
“What are you doing here?”
He raises his brows. “I believe I have an investment in the theater. It’s only natural I would drop by occasionally. And besides that, we have something to discuss.”
I glance around, deciding there are too many people nearby for this conversation. “Why don’t we talk in my office?”
Lord Cavinder and Phillip follow me out the side stage door and through the hall. When we reach my office, I sit at my desk, and they take the seats across from me.
“What do you want to discuss?” I ask, my tone venomous now that we’re alone. “If it’s about your investment, the show is well on its way to paying it off. If it’s about Sabine, there’s nothing to say.”
Lord Cavinder shakes his head as if vexed. “You’re so much like your father, Alex. Can’t you see what I’ve done for you? I freed you from your tie to Ian. You should be thanking me.”
“But you tethered Sabine to him in the process—and you forced her to continue your illicit trade.”
Calmly, he says, “I am finding homes for people who have nowhere to be. Is that truly so horrible?”
“I have scars proving it’s horrible, yes. Selling people like farm animals is immoral, and there’s no way you can justify it.”
He sighs. “Nothing I can say will change your mind. We have a difference of opinion, and that is simply that.”
“Why did you sell me to the Fae?” I ask bluntly.
Phillip flinches, but Lord Cavinder does not. “I told your father repeatedly that he should not allow you to go into Faerie with the troupe.”
“But you admit you set up the others?” I demand. “Why would you do that?”
Lord Cavinder studies me, looking like he might actually tell me what happened five years ago. I wait, holding my breath, needing to know. It’s a black cloud in my past, lost pieces to a puzzle I could never understand.
“Your father and I had a disagreement,” he finally says. “And I’m not proud of what I did.”
I begin to snarl a response, but he holds up a hand, asking me to let him finish.
“Even though I am the reason the Gryphon Lane Theater exists, your father refused to make me a partner after he paid back my initial investment—a poor decision. I had recently signed the agreement with Queen Marison, and I sent the troupe to her, knowing their disappearance would be a hard blow to your father. I assumed he’d have to scramble to pull together a cast for the next show, and that he’d have to postpone the opening night. I was ready to step in to pay his current investors—as soon as he agreed to make me partner.”
“How could you do that?” I whisper.
Ignoring me, he continues, “However, you defied his orders and went with them. Instead of the troupe’s disappearance being a small setback, he lost the will to live.” Lord Cavinder shakes his head, his eyes distant. “Such a tragedy. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss him.”
His words slither like a snake in my stomach.
“Why didn’t you take over the theater as soon as he died?” I ask.
The remorse falls from Lord Cavinder’s face, replaced with anger. “Because he willed the entire property to you, and the constable ruled you and the others as missing. The city couldn’t auction off the property.”
“I returned too soon.”
His expression softens. “I wasn’t upset you made it back, Alex. It was a relief.”
I look away, nauseous, breathing slowly.