The supply of pastries began to run short, and people still seemed to be hungry. I headed for the kitchen to check with Florica. As I entered the passageway, my cousin stepped out of the shadows and grabbed me by the arm, making me gasp in fright. There was nobody else around.
“Don’t do that!” I snapped as my heartbeat slowly returned to its normal pace.
“Are you trying to avoid me, Jena?” Cezar asked, not letting go. “I need to talk to you alone. I said so when we came inside, but you’re always somewhere else. Come and share some ?
Rest for a little.” When I opened my mouth to tell him that Aunt Bogdana had asked me to come straight back, he added, “I have something to say to you. You must know what it is. Jena, this needs to be in private.”
I glanced around frantically. The sound of laughter and clink-ing platters filtered up from the party. From the other end, behind the closed kitchen doors, came the sound of scrubbing: Florica and her assistants, starting to clean up. In the middle, Cezar and I stood in our own little patch of awkward silence.
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“If you’ve got something to say, better just go ahead,” I told him.
He had held on to my arm all this time. Now he grabbed the other arm as well. I had my back to the wall, and his face was unpleasantly close to mine. I could smell ?
“You know what it is. You know how much I want you, Jena. You look wonderful in that red gown. I can’t keep my eyes off you. Jena, you will marry me, won’t you?” The words came out in a rush. Before I could draw breath— let alone start to say I wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man in all Transylvania—Cezar bent forward and kissed me.
I had often dreamed of my first proper kiss, though the dreams had not contained a particular man, just a vague idea of one. The kiss itself, I knew all about. It would be tender and sweet and exciting all at once. It would make my knees go weak, and at the same time it would make me feel safe, and loved, and beautiful.
The touch of Cezar’s mouth on mine destroyed every trace of that dream. His kiss was not about love or tenderness. It was a kiss of possession, and it bruised my lips and wounded my heart. When he was done, I wrenched my arms from his grip and stood there shaking, using all the strength I had to stop myself from hitting him.
I drew a deep breath. There were words bursting to get out of me—furious, hurtful words. Though I was shaking with 246
humiliation, I kept them back. Cezar held power in our household. If Father died, that power would become absolute. My refusal would offend my cousin, there was no avoiding that. But I must do it as tactfully as I could. He had the capacity to cause terrible damage to all the people I loved.
“Thank you for your proposal,” I said in a tight voice.
“Cezar, this just wouldn’t work, you and I. We’re too different. We don’t think alike. We don’t enjoy the same things.
We’d argue all the time, and be desperately unhappy—”
“Jena, Jena, Jena,” he muttered, moving in close again. He pressed his body up against mine and put his lips against my ear. “You don’t mean that. Haven’t we been friends since we were small children? All lovers quarrel, that’s the way things are. Besides, this solves the problem of your father’s estate. I’m family already. I’m sure this is what Uncle Teodor would want.
Come on, Jena, you’re just teasing me. . . .”
His hand went down the front of the red gown, and my rage finally got the better of me. In the pocket, squashed between Cezar and me, Gogu was quivering with fury. “Stop it!”
I shouted, and hit Cezar across the cheek, hard. “Don’t you dare touch me like that! What do you think I am, some girl who lets every drunken oaf pinch and fondle her in dark corners? I’m not going to marry you, Cezar, and if I have anything to do with it, nor are any of my sisters. Don’t ever put your hands on me again. I’m saving that privilege for my future husband. And there’s one thing plain as a pikestaff: that won’t be
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*
*
*
After the guests had retired for the night, I retreated to our bedchamber, exhausted and distressed. My mind hardly had room to hold the double shock of Sorrow’s foolhardy appearance in our midst and Cezar’s crude behavior.
I took off the red gown, knowing that I would never wear it again, and slipped into my night robe. I put Gogu on the side table. Stela was asleep. Tati lay in bed with her eyes open. The others were sitting on Iulia’s bed, conversing in whispers. Nobody looked happy. On some level, perhaps, our party had been a success, but the possibility of finding suitors we genuinely liked seemed farther away than ever. I remembered Tati saying once that the Other Kingdom might spoil us for life in our own world, because nothing could ever match up to it. Tonight I was beginning to wonder whether that was true.
“Jena!” exclaimed Paula as I turned and she caught sight of my face. “You look terrible! It wasn’t as bad as that, was it?”
I cleared my throat. “Cezar just proposed to me,” I said. “I turned him down.” I had not planned to tell them just yet—the hurt of his abusive kiss was still raw. The words had spilled out despite myself.
There was a stunned silence. Even Tati stared at me, getting up on her elbow to do so.
“True,” I said. “He kissed me, and groped me, and it was disgusting. I tried to be nice about refusing, but I lost my temper. I’ve made him angry. Even angrier than he was before.” I poured water into Gogu’s bowl. There was comfort in the small daily routine.
