CHAPTER 34
lARISSA STARTED PROGRESSING QUICKLY. By Monday afternoon, she could turn her hair brown, though only for two minutes at a time.
Larissa was actually practicing when she wasn’t with Briony. It seemed that whatever it was that motivated her to get to Biltmore was strong.
Toven didn’t attend Sunday’s lesson, but when he walked into the drawing room on Monday to see Larissa with brown hair, he stopped in his tracks.
“Look!” Larissa said, jumping up to twirl for him, but almost as soon as she had, she lost her grasp on that thread and let her hair fade back to blond.
“Ah, damn it all.”
Toven slid his hands in his pockets and moved toward their chairs as Larissa closed her eyes and tried to find the concentration she needed.
“It’s impressive, even if it needs work,” he said softly.
“Be quiet,” Larissa snapped, her eyes squeezed tightly.
Briony watched Toven, taking note that his gaze never left Larissa as they all stood in silence.
Slowly, Larissa’s hair turned brown at the roots. With her face still squished in concentration, she said, “Am I doing it?”
“A little.”
Larissa huffed and shook out her arms, letting her concentration go again.
Toven cleared his throat. “My mother would like to entertain us all for dinner this evening.”
Briony’s jaw dropped. What a happy dinner party.
Larissa’s expression was wary for a moment. “I can’t,” she said. “I really need to be practicing this evening.”
Briony’s brows jumped. She couldn’t imagine staying in someone’s home and declining a dinner invitation.
“I’m afraid it’s not optional,” Toven said, looking down at his shoes.
Larissa glanced at Toven, chewing her lip—something Briony had never seen her do at school. She shook her head and grumbled, “What time?”
“Six.”
Larissa nodded, and Toven left without Briony’s response.
Briony crossed her arms as Larissa slumped back down in her chair. “You don’t enjoy Serena Hearst’s company?”
Larissa snorted. “Much the other way around.” She rubbed her thumb across her lips, her mind drifting. “I tried for years to get that woman’s approval. I’m sure you’ve noticed how she is. Sharing a meal with her is a just a chance for her to evaluate and dismiss. You’ll see.”
Later, Larissa used the dinner as a practice session, and endeavored to cloak a beauty mark on her cheek for the entire evening.
Briony sat down next to Larissa and across from Toven, Orion’s place opposite Serena at the head of the table not set.
“Thank you for having us to dine this evening, Mrs. Hearst,” Larissa said in the voice she used to use on the tutors at school. “It’s been far too long since I’ve enjoyed your kitchen’s food.”
Serena’s lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I thought it was time to have a meal with everyone under my roof.”
Briony paused in placing her napkin on her lap as a glance passed between Toven and his mother. Toven’s lips pressed together.
“Larissa is with us for only a week, perhaps a bit longer. She needs to spend some time learning some valuable tools with Miss Rosewood.”
“Ah,” Serena said, lifting her wineglass. “I presume that is the reason I see a spot appearing and disappearing on Miss Gains’s cheek.”
Larissa blanched before blushing.
“It is, Mrs. Hearst.”
“If I remember correctly, you were always well concerned with cosmetology,” Serena said. “You are in need of further effects for your appearance?”
Briony blinked. It was so strange to hear Larissa call her “Mrs. Hearst” when Briony had been permitted to call her Serena.
“All is necessary, Mother,” Toven said, readjusting his napkin. “I promise.”
Briony cleared her throat. “Thank you for having us to dinner, Mrs.
Hearst,” Briony said, lifting her fork.
“I’ve told you to call me Serena, Briony.”
Briony paused, her entire body flushing with secondhand embarrassment.
Larissa was still as stone next to her.
Throughout the rest of the meal, Briony tried to make easy conversation while Serena ignored Larissa, Toven ignored Briony, and Larissa shrank into herself, ignoring everyone.
* * *
“Let’s go again,” Larissa said, gulping down her tea.
It was Friday morning, and Larissa could turn her eyes green for twenty minutes. It was truly impressive, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. She’d need to cloak herself as another person for far longer than twenty minutes.
However, Larissa hadn’t quite yet accepted that she would not be going to the Biltmore party that evening.
She slapped her own cheeks to perk up, having nearly passed out from
exhaustion in the last session.
“Larissa,” Briony started.
“No. We go again.”
Briony stared at her. “You can try as often as you want today. It won’t change the fact that you’re not ready for this evening.”
Larissa narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Rosewood.”
“That’s precisely what she can tell you,” said a voice from the doorway.
The two women turned to see Toven, observing them silently.
“Toven—”
“It won’t be tonight, Larissa,” he said softly. “Be all the more ready for next Friday.”
Briony watched a fire burn behind Larissa’s eyes as her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Finn will make an excuse why he can’t attend, and you both will appear next week,” Toven said.
Larissa stood with the petulance of a toddler and marched toward the door. As she passed him, Toven said, “And I assume you will hold up your end of the bargain with Rosewood this evening, as she has spent six days working with you.”
His words went unanswered as Larissa’s heavy footsteps echoed farther and farther away.
Without a glance in Briony’s direction, Toven excused himself.
Later that evening, Briony was just stepping out of the bath and draping her robe around herself when Larissa barged into her suite.
Briony peered out of the bathroom door and sputtered, “It’s polite to knock, you know.”
Larissa waved her off and went directly to her vanity to open the bag she’d brought with her. She started taking out brushes and powders.
Briony blinked, remembering what she’d said last week. I’ve heard from multiple sources now that you were a spectacular disaster at Biltmore. You looked a mess.
Breathing deeply, Briony said, “You’re here to make me look good?”
Larissa smiled condescendingly. “But of course. Looking good is my only talent,” she said, as if repeating the words from someone. She patted the back of the vanity chair and gestured for Briony to sit.
Briony didn’t know if she was supposed to disagree with Larissa or not.
She followed instruction and sat.
As Larissa started organizing all the powders and rouges, Briony frowned at her in the mirror. “Not every girl is done up and dressed to the nines.”
Larissa dragged the chair to face her with surprising strength. “Not every girl fetched sixty-five thousand gold,” she said, leaning down to meet Briony on her level. Briony froze at the knowledge that Larissa had finally figured out how much Toven bought her for. “Not every girl is on the arm of the wealthiest heir in line. Trust me when I say that you need to look and act the part. If you can’t maintain the lie, Rosewood,” Larissa said, voice sharpening, “you’ll endanger the entire Hearst family.”
Briony pressed her lips together. “I’m well aware of that, thanks.”
Larissa stood upright, a bright smile breaking across her lips. “Good.” She pushed a tube of something into Briony’s hands. “Now moisturize.”
Brushing the cream over her skin, Briony turned her eyes to Larissa’s left forearm. The flesh was mangled and silver-white from the acid that Finn had used. Briony realized that she now had access to someone who could possibly
give her a clue about the tattoos.
“Did it hurt?” she asked quietly.
“Don’t be an idiot, Rosewood. You heard me screaming. Now go ahead and ask the real question you want to ask.”
Larissa came at her with a large brush at that point, promptly covering Briony’s embarrassed flush with a beige goo.
“What do you know about the tattoos?” Briony asked, once the brush was away from her mouth.
“Absolutely nothing.” Larissa dipped the brush again. “All I know is that I
can come and go as I please.”
“Because you’re ‘dead.’”
Larissa’s lips twitched. “Well, yes. That does tend to be helpful.”
“I woke up with my tattoo already on my arm. Do you remember anything about the spell they used?”
“I don’t remember a spell,” Larissa said. “Just the elixir.”
Briony felt her skin prick as every hair on her arms stood on end.
“What kind of elixir?”
“Well, gee, Rosewood, when I was allowed to examine it, my findings were inconclusive—”
“You drank an elixir?” Briony grabbed her wrist, forcing Larissa to tug
her brush back. “You’re sure?”
She scowled at her. “I’m positive. I remember having my jaw pried open.”
Briony’s mind raced at breakneck speed. She’d thought that the tattoo was a spell cast upon a person, an external charm. Was Briony given this elixir while she was unconscious?
An elixir had an antidote. She tucked away this new information, excited to examine it later in the Hearst library.
Briony let Larissa continue in silent concentration, dabbing at her face and smudging powders onto her cheeks. She hadn’t bothered with any of this since before her father died. If there was a state event, the palace hired a team to come in and tend to her, but that was all she knew other than where to swipe rouge. Larissa, on the other hand, had already perfected a powdered and contoured face when they started school at sixteen. The only time Briony had ever seen her without a face on was when they were held captive together.
“You said you envied me in the Trow dungeons.” Briony’s voice was soft, as if she were speaking to a skittish cat.
Larissa didn’t look up from her palette.
“You said you were envious of ‘what my life would be,’” Briony said.
“What did you mean?”
Larissa laughed, a bark of glee that made Briony jump in her seat. Larissa looked around the bathroom suite, gesturing with her brush.
“You knew, even then, that Toven was going to buy me,” Briony said.
Larissa stabbed a new brush into a powder and hummed in confirmation.
Briony took a breath, heart pounding. “Do you know why?”
Larissa turned to her, hair swaying delicately. Her eyes took in Briony’s, studying her, before narrowing like a predator.
“I do,” said Larissa, with a twist to her lips. “Eyes closed, Rosewood.”
Briony opened her mouth to protest, but Larissa was already coming at her with the brush. Briony closed her eyes, puffing out her breath in defeat.
She kept silent and still as Larissa finished her eyeshadow. After, she felt Larissa twisting her fingers through Briony’s hair, letting magic drift through the curls, tightening and taming them. When she was finally finished, Larissa
grabbed the back of the chair, wrenching her toward the mirror so she could see herself.
Briony was a shadow. A figment of someone’s imagination. Her cheekbones shimmered and her eyes were enormous. Her brows were crisp and jaw sharp—just like Larissa’s. Her curls danced around her face like a lion’s mane.
“You hate it, I know,” Larissa said, putting her things away with a flick of her fingers. “But you’ll have to bear it.”
Larissa started to clean up all the powders and brushes, and Briony felt the clock ticking closer to ten.
“Is there anything else I should know?” Briony asked, her stomach twisting in knots.
“Be sure to take all this off and wash your face afterward,” Larissa muttered.
“No, I mean...” Briony hesitated. “Anything about how to act?”
Larissa met her eyes in the mirror and bit back a smile. “What do you want to know?”
Briony watched her organize the counter.
“What does Toven like?”
Larissa laughed. “Well, doing what Toven likes and doing what looks good at Biltmore are two different things.”
Briony’s brows furrowed. “Do you mean that Toven doesn’t like conventional affection?”
“No, no. It’s just that...” Larissa smiled. “Well, doing what he likes while trying to play a part? That’s asking for a bit of trouble, don’t you agree?”
Briony didn’t follow. Trouble for who?
Larissa shook her head and said, “You know what, why not?”
She bent over Briony’s chair and ran her fingers through Briony’s thick curls. Briony immediately thought of the evening woman Larissa had told her about.
“Toven tends to like soft touches to the back of his neck.” Larissa demonstrated, letting her fingers tickle the back of Briony’s head. She gave small tugs on the wispy hairs at the base of her skull.
Briony thought it felt quite nice, but it wasn’t really a turn-on for herself.
“Especially when your fingers are cold,” Larissa said, pulling her hand away.
“My fingers are always cold,” Briony quipped.
Larissa snorted. “That’s right,” she said with a knowing smile. “Are you really still cold in Bomard? After all these years?”
Briony nodded.
Larissa leveled her gaze at her. “It’s summer, for stones’ sake,
Rosewood.”
Briony shrugged.
Next, they went to grab Briony’s dress and heels from the wardrobe.
Larissa cast a charm on the shoes to make them more comfortable and prevent Briony’s ankles from rolling. It was life changing.
“Have a good evening,” Larissa said. “My goal is to have an hour of full transmogrification by Monday.” She walked to the door with a sway to her steps. She would probably be up the entire night working on her studies.
“Do get some rest, Larissa. It’s no good passing out during lessons.”
At the threshold, she turned and smiled. “Oh, don’t go getting attached to me now, Rosewood. It will make it so much harder to despise you.”
She disappeared, and the door clicked closed behind her.
* * *
Briony’s dress was black lace tonight, with a low neck. It was tight on her body, leaving very little to the imagination.
With shoes on and one last look in the mirror, Briony headed down the hallway. She’d found her footing by the time she descended the stairs, but the sight of Toven watching her from the ground almost sent her stumbling again. His eyes dripped over her face, dress, and legs before tearing away and staring down at the marble.
It was the first time he’d looked directly at her since Saturday, when he’d described in perfect detail all the ways in which he had her every day. He’d refused to look at her at dinner with his mother. Briony’s heart raced and her skin tingled.
She clicked down the stairs in her heels, awkwardly listening to every step until she reached the bottom.
He didn’t immediately cast the portal, so she asked, “Is it the same entry every time? Through the main gates?”
After a beat, he nodded, almost as if snapping out of a trance. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and surprised her when he offered, “The dinner will be infinitely tamer tonight.”
He sliced his finger and cast a portal. Briony paused before she offered her arm to him.
“The president of Southern Camly doesn’t support Mallow, does she?” she asked. “That’s why Juliana was taken and made a heartspring. To coerce him into changing his mind.”
“That’s about the short of it,” he said.
He took her elbow, pulling her through a void to the path outside Biltmore.
She allowed the long walk up to the gates to center her mind, the breeze to cool her emotions, and the sound of her footsteps to confirm that it was truly happening again.
The wolves howled, the guards smacked their lips, and the crowd of Bomardi in the courtyard whistled. She ignored them all, hardly registering their jeers about her bare legs as she focused on a lake with still waters.
Toven was putting on a show of being quite relaxed. During their first walk into Biltmore, he was rushed and anxious. This time, he was shouting back at the crowd with a laugh, stopping to chat with someone at the top of the stairs, and teasing someone who was coughing on their cigar. But when the spectators vanished and it was only the two of them, his face fell, an empty expression in his eyes.
He led her through the doors to the grand hall, and Briony’s breath caught to see Ilana turning to them with a tray of champagne.
“Master Hearst,” she said with a flirty grin. “Good evening. I have Minister Bagis back again.”
Toven declined a fact sheet, and Ilana’s eyes met hers briefly before offering her champagne.
“Miss Rosewood, welcome.”
Briony reached for her own glass this time, hoping to draw Ilana’s eyes, but she was already pushing aside the curtain and letting them into the hall.
The music and the chatter hit her like a wall, stirring her memories of two weeks ago. She was flooded with terror for a freezing moment before feeling Toven’s hand on her back, warm and steadying.
He stopped to talk with people as they sipped their champagne. Briony tried to catalog the guests and conversations more fastidiously this time. Two weeks ago, she was far more focused on the women. This time, she needed to listen to the whispered jokes and unspoken clues.
Toven greeted Carvin, who did not have Phoebe hanging off his elbow.
Briony’s eyes scanned for her as inconspicuously as possible, but with no luck.
“Toven,” a slimy voice called out behind them. They turned and found Caspar Quill, Liam’s father, approaching, one hand on his cane. There was a round man at his side. “I was just telling Minister Bagis from Starksen about the protections on our heartsprings.”
Toven shook hands, and Briony finally matched the name with the face of Minister Bagis. He was one of the leaders of Starksen’s government and had conveniently ignored the letter she’d written to him in urgency, asking for his support while Mallow marched on Rory’s armies. He was portly with rheumy eyes and pink mottled skin.
Quill continued, sloshing his glass a bit as he spoke. “I assure you, these protections we have cannot be beat. These tattoos? Unbreakable.”
Briony’s ears pricked.
“Ah,” said Toven. “So these ‘tattoos’ cannot be broken, but the portal boundary lines can?” His eyes glinted cruelly as he watched the insult land on Quill.
“Precisely,” Quill growled. “The magic is impenetrable. We have gone further than anyone in history to secure our heartsprings!” Quill gestured to the whole room, sloshing his glass. “The ancient Dawards, the clans of Starksen. Not even the Durlings could succeed where we have!”
He was drawing attention. Several nearby heads turned to see the
commotion.
And it all fell into place. Quill had created the tattoos.
Briony looked down, her mind working quickly.
The Durlings.
She’d seen the term before. She couldn’t place where, but the group had appeared somewhere in her reading.
“Right you are, Caspar,” Toven said silkily. “And I do hope my father’s library was helpful to you in your efforts to secure the portal boundary line.
We are happy to point you in the right direction, should you ever be lost again.”
Briony’s brows jumped before she could school her face. Quill looked murderous.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really should be going.”
Toven’s fingers curled tightly on the curve of her waist, unsteadying her until she had to step back, following him toward the stairs.
She was racking her brain so hard to remember who the Durlings were that she almost forgot that she was headed upstairs into another viper’s pit.
“Not leaving already, Hearst?” a gravelly voice sounded from their right.
“I haven’t even had a chance to say hello.”
Toven froze. Briony’s chest rattled, her hair standing on end from the memory of eyes on her naked body, a hand between her legs, a scratchy voice whispering filthy things into her ear.
A tall man with a twisted nose and twisted smile stepped into their path, and Briony came face-to-face with Lag Reighven for the first time since he’d won her at the auction.
