At 11:30, Beatrix gave up all hope. The rebels were doing the sensible thing - refusing to allow Aaron to ride roughshod over them as he had everyone else. He had no power over them. Disnarta could still be saved.
But it was a shame. She would have liked to reach seventeen.
Beatrix felt strangely calm and accepting, finding refuge in her oldest friend - deception. If she deceived the whole world into thinking she wasn’t afraid, then maybe she wouldn’t be.
She was wasting her time. Her precious time. It fled past her as if it couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Did the world really hate her that much?
Ye gods! She was going to die.
I don’t want to, she realised. I want to grow up and fall in love.
But I have. I have fallen in love: Keiran.
She shouldn’t have left it the way she did. He thought so badly of her! That look in his eyes when he realised she’d lied... She would have liked to make it up again. Even just to see him again...
And Carla! Out there somewhere trying to make things right. Quigley, deep in some cell, wronged beyond belief. Owain, banished from his own home. Roald, murdered. Annesdale and his family killed most horribly. Was all this for nothing?
All that she’d gone through! Her crazed flight from the castle, those few beautiful snatched days with Keiran when she became halfway human. They should have had a whole lifetime to be together. Instead it was little more than a week.
Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. Nothing to do. Ye gods!
This is it.