“Stupid? Me?” I choked on a laugh.
Chade stooped to peer into my face. “Come up to my chamber,” he said, in an almost kindly voice. He took my arm and I went with him.
The cheery room, the crackling fire, the autumn fruit ripe in a bowl; all of it clashed so badly with what I felt that I wanted to smash things. Instead I asked Chade, “Does anything feel worse than being angry with people you love?”
After a bit he spoke. “Watching someone you love die. And being angry, but not knowing where to direct it. I think that’s worse.”
I flung myself onto a side chair, kicked my feet out in front of me. “Shrewd has taken up Regal’s habits. Smoke. Mirthweed. El only knows what else in his wine. This morning, without his drugs, he began to shake, and then he drank them mixed with his wine, took a chestful of Smoke, and went to sleep in my face. After telling me, again, that I must court and marry Celerity, for my own good.” The words spilled from me. I had no doubt that Chade already knew of everything I told him.
I pinned Chade with my eyes. “I love Molly,” I told him bluntly. “I have told Shrewd that I love another. Yet he insists that I will be paired with Celerity. He asks how I cannot understand he means the best for me. How cannot he understand that I wish to wed whom I love?”
Chade looked considering. “Have you discussed this with Verity?”
“What good would that do? He could not even save himself from being wed off to a woman he did not desire.” I felt disloyal to Kettricken as I said this. But I knew it was true.