Chapter Twenty
For a moment we just look at each other. Olive slips her pointer finger into her mouth to suck at where it’s bleeding. My whole body is so shaky with effort, I collapse onto a love seat, and Emmy joins me with a heavy sigh.
As if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, the footman rings his golden bell signaling the start of the next rotation.
There’s a glance of recognition that goes around the room, as if the thought crosses all our minds simultaneously. If we all refuse to do this, a
loser and a winner cannot be chosen.
“Let’s call it a tie?” Greer proposes.
“It’s like you read my mind,” Emmy says.
“Agreed,” I add.
“Obviously,” Faith says.
Olive just nods, her finger firmly in her mouth.
We’re halfway down the stairs when Olive stops suddenly. “My bracelet!” she exclaims. “It must have come unclasped. Just one moment, I’ll be back.” As we wait, I stare up at the tree that reaches the ceiling, its green leaves quaking slightly, the very tops brushing the honeycomb glass.
I felt such determination the first time I saw this tree on the day of the Pact Parade. Now I just feel wrung out.
Olive comes bounding down the stairs a few moments later.
I’m half expecting the footmen or royal guards or the queen herself to stop us, but the six of us stride right out the door and across the lawn to our cottage, with no fanfare at all.
Marion is waiting for us, sitting at the dining table, where the cook has laid out an impressive lunch.
She pops up, her eyes wide with surprise. “What happened?”
Emmy plops down at the table and grabs a scone. “We decided you were right.”
Marion’s eyes get misty with tears, but she doesn’t say another word.
Faith sits down next to her and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Lunch passes with the tense silence of children expecting a scolding. We all flinch at the slightest creak in the floor, expecting some consequence for walking out of the queen’s second trial.
At teatime, there’s a sharp rap at the front door. We startle. “I’ll get it,” I say. Standing there is a footman with a package wrapped in brown paper. He hands it to me. I peel back the paper to take a peek and find an achingly familiar shade of green.
I run up the stairs to my room. “Who was it?” Olive calls.er finger into “Just a letter from my mother!”o shaky with I toss the book on my bed and tear the paper open to reveal the cover. In gilded lettering it reads Faeries of the British Isles.man rings his I flip open the cover to find a note from Bram. A book about magic, for a girl who already has plenty. —B.m, as if the It’s the same edition as the one I had as a child. There’s an annotationto do this, a inside the front cover. From the Library of EJB, 4 Waters Lane, Alton, England. 1702.
I clutch it to my chest, savoring the smell of it, then tuck it under my mattress.
Tonight we’re expected at the Welbys’ masquerade ball. Count and Countess Welby are some of the younger members of the peerage, with reputations forddenly. “My throwing full-on bacchanalia. Tonight’s party doesn’t even begin until aftermoment, I’ll ten and is anticipated to rage until sunrise.ing, its green The cottage turns into a tornado of silks and jewels and feathers. Olive runs back and forth from our room to Marion’s in nothing but her chemisehe day of the and a pair of butterfly wings. Greer’s enormous peacock feather backpiece is too large, and she is momentarily lodged in the stairwell. Emmy has to push her through, both of them laughing so hard they’re on the verge of tears.en herself to All the while, Lottie holds me still in front of the mirror, painstakinglye lawn to our placing crystals in my upswept hair. She even uses little bits of paste to stick a few to my cheekbones and at the corners of my eyes.the cook has My dress tonight is midnight-blue silk, with sleeves that fall wide at my wrists and a daringly low neckline. It’s embroidered all over with a golden spray of constellations.ded you were Lottie gestures for me to stand and then ties a cape around my neck that shimmers with hundreds of falling stars.nother word.
The final piece is a tiara made of stars, with one crescent moon in the
scolding. Wemiddle. sequence forEven I can’t help but gasp upon seeing myself in the mirror. “Oh, Lottie, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“I’ll get it,” IShe smiles proudly. “He’s going to faint when he sees you.” wn paper. HeI bite back a smile, picturing Emmett’s stunned face across a crowded an achinglyballroom. Then I immediately wipe the thought away, angry that it was there in the first place.
The party is roaring by the time we arrive. The grand front steps of the house are aglow with torches, everyone in their fancy dress spilling out into the cover. Inthe night.
We help each other tie on our masks when we are out of the carriages. magic, for aMine is fashioned from a delicate silver mesh. Olive’s is made of monarch wings, matching perfectly her orange and black butterfly dress, nearly the annotationexact same shade as her ginger hair.
Lane, Alton,The crowd parts as the six of us enter the room. We make quite a sight in our costumes. Emmy to my right is in ink black, dressed as a bat, with wings it under mytied around her middle fingers that extend when she stretches her arms.
Marion shimmers in her mermaid costume, complete with a tiara made of shells and pearls. and CountessBut it’s Faith I’m jealous of. She’s dressed as Romeo’s Juliet. Her dress is eputations forthe simplest of all, a warm cream silk that laces up the front. There’s a golden in until aftercirclet on her head, and her brown curls are pulled off her face and cascade down her back. athers. OliveShe glares as she catches me staring. her chemiseAs usual, we’re not handed dance cards like the rest of the eligible girls backpiece isour age. Instead, we mingle by the champagne tower and gossip about the y has to pushother attendees.
There’s a sudden pull on my arm, and I jump, completely unlady-like, painstakinglyinto Lydia’s arms. paste to stick“What are you doing here?” I gasp.
She looks better than she did the last time I saw her. There’s more pink in l wide at myher cheeks, and her hair is markedly less dull. Her costume, however, is with a goldenuncharacteristically lazy. She’s wearing a lavender silk dress Mama had made for her first season, two years ago, with fresh flowers woven through
my neck thather blond curls.
“Mama thought it would be good for me.” moon in theMy mother appears behind her, my father in tow.
I give them all tight hugs, surprised at how my body relaxes, a bone-deep . “Oh, Lottie,longing for home I didn’t even realize I had.
My mother grips both my hands conspiratorially. “How have things been?” ss a crowdedI’m sad I can’t give her the juicy gossip she wants, and I refuse to trouble t it was thereher with my fears. That’s the thing about having a mother who remembers everything. I have to be careful about what I give her to worry about. t steps of the“It’s been lovely. The other girls are so nice, and Prince Bram is such a lling out intogentleman.”
She grins, and again I remind myself that every moment of pain is worth he carriages.the joy on her face. e of monarchTrumpets sound, and the doors swing open as Prince Emmett and Prince s, nearly theBram come striding in.
At the sight of Emmett’s face, I feel the fault line crack down the center uite a sight inof my chest, the two sides of me at war. There’s the side that wants only to be t, with wingsa good girl, a good daughter, and to help my family be integrated into society once more, and then there is the side that is allied with Emmett, the side tiara made ofthat’s willing to risk burning this all to the ground to build a world better than this one. . Her dress isAnxiously, I twist Bram’s pearl ring around my index finger. re’s a goldenWith my parents in front of me, I feel very much like a child again, with a and cascadechild’s heart that only wants them to be safe and whole and proud of me.
Emmett’s voice echoes in my head. You could be queen.
Viscountess Bolingbroke waves me over to rejoin the rest of the group eligible girlsnow that Bram has arrived at the party. sip about theBram walks right over to us, taking in our costumes. He’s dressed as something of a pirate, in a black velvet coat and a billowing white shirt open unlady-like,wide around his throat.
He turns to my parents and politely introduces himself. My mother giggles like a schoolgirl, and my father looks up at him like he’s the son he’s more pink inalways craved. however, isBram pulls Olive into a waltz first and then proceeds to dance with us one s Mama hadby one. “You’re getting better,” he says as he twirls me across the ballroom. oven throughI look into his eyes, the way Emmett taught me. “I’ve been practicing.”
The clock strikes midnight, and Bram disappears with the men to the upstairs drawing room to smoke cigars and discuss topics too worldly for our delicate ears.
a bone-deepIt’s been hours, and I haven’t seen Lydia again. I wonder bitterly if she’s snuck home without saying goodbye. have thingsThe party shows no sign of dying down, but Viscountess Bolingbroke is snoring softly in the corner, slumped in a chair after one too many glasses of use to troublechampagne. o remembersI slip out into the garden, where torches cast long shadows over hedges and twisting oak trees, to look for my sister. am is such aThere’s a raucous game of croquet happening off to my left, but that’s not where Lydia would be, so I go right, where it’s darker and quieter. “Lydia?” I pain is worthcall. There is no answer but the rustle of wind through the fruit trees and the hedges trimmed to look like zoo animals. tt and Prince“Lydia?”
“Lady Ivy, is that you?” a male voice answers. wn the center“Emmett?” nts only to beI see him now, moving toward me in the shadows, haloed in moonlight. d into society“I was looking for my sister,” I say. mett, the side“And I was looking for you.” ld better than“Oh?”
“Come quick.” He reaches down as if to grab my hand, but thinks better of it and shoves his hand in his pocket. again, with aHe’s wearing an open doublet, with a costume crown slightly askew on his dark waves. Both our masks were discarded hours ago.
I gesture to his outfit. “What are you supposed to be?” of the group“A prince.” He looks over his shoulder and flashes me an infuriating half smile. ’s dressed as“That doesn’t count—you’re already a prince.” ite shirt open“I’m one from”—he gestures his hands vaguely—“The days of yore, or something.”
My mother“This is the laziest costume I’ve ever seen.” s the son he’sHe clutches his heart in mock distress. “You wound me, Lady Ivy. We can’t all be lucky to have costumes as impressive as yours.” e with us one“Are you impressed?”
His eyes rake down my body, then back up again to my face. I shiver, as if he’s just touched me. “You look like a fallen star.” There is no hint of e men to thelaughter in his words now. orldly for ourWe come to a garden gate at the back of the house, where the noise from the party is dampened. It’s partially hidden by overgrown rosebushes and
tterly if she’sshadowed by a willow tree.
He reaches around me to pull the gate open, then gestures for me to go on olingbroke iswithout him. “Bram is waiting for you.” ny glasses ofI told him I needed more time alone with his brother. “I’m glad to hear you can take direction,” I reply, but it comes out strangely choked. over hedges“You know me,” he replies, face stony. “So obedient.”
I do want to win. I want to help Emmett and the rebellion and my family. but that’s notTime with Bram will help me win. So why does it feel like I’m losing? er. “Lydia?” II step through the gate, and Emmett disappears into the darkness. I don’t trees and thehave it in me to watch him as he goes.
Bram is waiting for me in the center of the hidden garden under the weatherworn statue of a trumpeting angel.
“Lady Ivy.” His face lights up as I approach. “A sight for sore eyes.”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“I wasn’t sure what to expect. My brother led me here and told me to wait for a surprise. I must admit I was a little nervous, given the venue, but you’re better than anything I could have hoped for.”
I’m confused, but then he gestures to the patch of earth closest to us, and I thinks bettersee the fine mist net over the plant and the little stake in the ground that reads foxglove, next to it, monkshood, and behind it, laburnum. tly askew on“He left you in a poison garden?” I ask.
Bram just laughs that easy laugh of his. “My brother does have a sense of humor.” furiating half“Or maybe he just thought no one would come looking for us here. I hear he’s clever, your brother.” Emmett’s face pops into my head again, the infuriating smile, the hair he can’t seem to tame, those goddamn eyes. s of yore, or“Ahh.” Bram nods sagely. “Very clever indeed.”
Brown hair. A strong hand on my forehead soothing away a fever.
Emmett is just something I need to sweat out. I’m nothing to him but a means ady Ivy. Weto an end.
“I don’t want to talk about my brother,” he says, his gray eyes sparkling like starlight. They’re not a color I’ve ever seen on a person. e. I shiver, as“What do you want to talk about?” I ask. is no hint of“I don’t think I want to talk at all.” He picks up my hand and traces along my pointer finger. His hands are warm. “You’re wearing my ring.” he noise from“Haven’t taken it off.” sebushes andMy heart leaps into my throat, but the space between us goes quiet and
still. It’s not desire I feel, but the burn of inevitability. r me to go onI swam in the sea once as a child and got knocked over by a wave. I tumbled in the surf, scraped my knees against the sand, and snorted water up glad to hearmy nose.
It was the first time I felt truly small, the first time I knew what it felt like to be carried away by a force I couldn’t control. d my family.I taste salt water in the back of my throat now.
“Ivy.” He whispers my name under his breath like he’s been longing for kness. I don’this mouth to taste it.
Then he takes one more confident step toward me and presses his lips to en under themine.
I’ve never been kissed before. It’s warmer than I expected, a little wetter, too.
For one panicked second, I just freeze, but Bram takes over, confident ld me to waitand sure. It’s obvious he’s kissed others, but in this moment I’m not sure if I e, but you’recare.
I move my lips against his and thread my hands through his curls st to us, and Ireflexively. nd that readsHe pulls me closer, his hands strong on the small of my back.
I keep waiting to feel something. I thought I’d feel sparks or church bells or licking flames. But all I can think is Am I doing it right? I have to get this ve a sense ofright. I have to make him want to marry me, or I’ll let Emmett down. I could be letting the whole country down. s here. I hearBram wrenches back as if it pains him and looks down at me. He really is d again, theextraordinarily handsome, his face just this side of otherworldly. I reach up and trace the pointed shell of his ear, just because I can. He shudders against my touch. way a fever.He smiles softly, and finally I feel something, a hollow wrenching in my m but a meansheart.
I have to fake it, so I smile back, then duck my head. I don’t think I have yes sparklingit in me right now to play lovestruck, but shy, I can do.
“I have to go find my sister,” I whisper.
“I’ll help you,” he whispers in return, and I have the feeling that there is d traces alonglittle I could ask Bram that he wouldn’t do for me.
We’re rounding the corner back to the house when I see a small figure in
the dark, hunched over on a bench. oes quiet and“Lydia?” I call.
She raises her head, and I can see her better now. The flowers in her hair by a wave. Ihave wilted. rted water upBram follows me to where she’s sitting. She’s got that dazed look on her face, the one I loathe so much because it makes me worry that’s she’s lost hat it felt likeagain, and I cannot survive her being gone for good.
I bend down and peer up at her face. “Lydia, let’s get you back to Mama.” n longing forShe blinks back to herself, like she’s been wandering somewhere I can’t see. “Oh . . .” She trails off. “Yes.” ses his lips toBram walks to the other side of her to help her to her feet.
“You must be the famous Lydia,” he says kindly, with a voice one might little wetter,use to speak to a small child.
She looks up at him, as if only just now realizing he was there. There’s a confidentmoment of pause, and I’m racking my brain for something charming to say to m not sure if Idefuse the situation, when Lydia clutches her stomach and retches all over Bram’s fancy shoes. gh his curls“Lydia!” I exclaim. Bram steps back in shock. Vomit splashes all over the gravel and onto the stars embroidered on the hem of my dress.
“Lady Benton, are you all right?” I don’t know which of us he’s asking. church bellsHe pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and passes it to Lydia. ve to get thisShe doesn’t take it. Instead, she mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll find Mama,” and down. I couldruns off into the big house before either of us can stop her.
“I’m sorry about my sister—oh, and thank you for the book!” I call over . He really ismy shoulder, but I’m so busy chasing her, I’m not sure if Bram hears me. y. I reach upI race inside, near frantic with a sickening combination of humiliation and dders againstworry. The golden candlelight stings after the darkness from outside. My eyes burn with tears of embarrassment, and my mouth still aches, as if nching in mybruised by the kiss.
Bram doesn’t follow us, and I hardly blame him. t think I haveBack in the ballroom, the music swells like nothing has changed.
Viscountess Bolingbroke still dozes in her wing chair, and the other five girls lean on the wall nearby in various states of boredom. g that there isMarion looks on the verge of falling asleep herself; Olive swivels her head around the ballroom, giving her an air of quiet desperation; Emmy, mall figure inFaith, and Greer have stolen a bottle of champagne and are giggling, barely disguising the sips they are taking behind their feather fans.
For a horrifying second it looks like Lydia is about to run directly through
rs in her hairthe center of the dance floor, where couples are spinning like tops. I’ve done so much work to rehabilitate my family, and this would undo it all. d look on herBut blessedly, she cuts left, to where my mother is lounging in a half t’s she’s lostcircle of love seats with her friends. Lydia collapses into our shocked mother’s shoulder. I make it to them seconds later. Lydia is inconsolable, you back toincoherent.
“Darling, what happened?” My mother isn’t asking Lydia, but me. Sweet where I can’tLydia, always given every benefit of the doubt by our parents. Of course my mother assumes it must have been my fault.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” I say. “She humiliated me in front of Prince ce one mightBram, though.” I loathe the rage that rips through me, the concern I felt just seconds ago transforming into a familiar anger. ere. There’s aLydia and I, always two sides of the same coin. Her hurt is spilled out ming to say toonto the floor, messy in a way that demands it be witnessed. Mine, shoved so ches all overdeep down, my steps are heavier with the weight of it.
Why can’t she suffer in a more palatable way? Why can’t she find a way es all over theto make her agony lovable, her pain marriageable, when I’m trying so hard?
Be prettier when you cry, the part of me I hate most wants to say to her. he’s asking.Maybe this is the crux of my anger with Lydia. I am ready to marry a man I do not love to save our family. I am relieved that Lydia, the person I love Mama,” andmost in the world, will be spared the same fate, yet I resent her for letting me do it all alone. !” I call overMy mother hauls Lydia to her feet. “I’ll send a note tomorrow with news of your sister’s health. I’m sorry, sweet girl, she didn’t mean to do this.” miliation andHow could my mother know anything Lydia means to do, when I don’t outside. Mythink Lydia knows herself? aches, as ifLydia raises her tear-streaked, snotty face and meets my eye. “I didn’t
mean to.”
She never means to. That’s the problem. has changed.I love her too much to bear looking at her like this. her five girlsSo exhausted by the turn in the night’s events, I walk out the door and to the carriages without an escort. If I get scolded by Viscountess Bolingbroke e swivels herin the morning, so be it. tion; Emmy,The carriage delivers me to the front of the palace, and I cut through the ggling, barelygrounds to the cottage.
A parade of storm clouds has blown in, nearly blocking out the light of ectly throughthe moon and stars. I drag my heavy, beaded dress through the grass, trying
ps. I’ve doneto outrun the rain. The air smells of it; it won’t be long now.
I expect the cottage to be dark and quiet with the other girls still at the ing in a halfball, but I startle at the sound of fabric moving through the grass. our shockedFrom the corner of my vision a flash of movement makes me jump. For a inconsolable,split second I think it’s the other girls returning from the ball, but it’s not.
Queen Mor walks toward me, only a few dozen feet away, her steps ut me. Sweetcompletely silent. Her pale skin is a near-ghostly pale blue in the moonlight, Of course myher dark hair loose around her shoulders.
She’s in an ornate gown of cerulean silk the color of the night sky. She’s ont of Princecarrying something, a basket, perfectly still in her right hand. ern I felt justShit.
Like a prey animal, something primal pings in me at the sight of her, a is spilled outlong-forgotten instinct to run. ne, shoved soHer black eyes stare me down.
I unlatch the door to the cottage. “Please, won’t you come in,” I say, he find a waybecause politeness is the only armor I have.
“This is my house,” she replies with a serene smile.
Nonetheless, she follows me in to the sitting room, where the staff have marry a manstoked a roaring fire. person I loveWe step inside just in time for the rain to arrive, beating on the roof and or letting mewindows.
“May I ask the reason for your visit?” My voice wobbles. ow with news“No.”
I call for tea because it seems the right thing to do, but I don’t drink a when I don’tdrop as we wait. I have to hold the cup steady against my leg so it doesn’t clink against the saucer as my hands shake. The clock on the mantel ticks and ye. “I didn’tticks, each second slower than the last.
The agonizing silence doesn’t seem to bother Queen Mor in the slightest.
She sips her tea, and I wonder if an eternal lifetime feels a lot like waiting.
We must be nothing but a blip to her. I wonder if she’ll even remember the e door and tofirst crop of silly girls she tortured to find a bride for her son. I’m struck with Bolingbrokethe deeply unsettling feeling that we may be the first class of many.
Perhaps I am delirious from lack of sleep, or perhaps it is because I fear I t through thewill never get another chance, but I set my teacup down on the table and open my mouth to ask a question. “Will you tell me what my sister’s bargain t the light ofwas?” grass, tryingHer gaze snaps to mine, and she shakes her head like a mother, ever
patient but exasperated. “I will not.” ls still at theThere’s another question on the tip of my tongue. I can’t stop it from spilling out. “But do you know where she was those weeks she disappeared?” e jump. For aThis time she answers more slowly, like she’s chewing on my question and can’t quite decide how she wants to react. steps“Of course I do.” he moonlight,The words land like a punch to the stomach. She wasn’t in the Otherworld, I know that for certain now. Where the hell were you, Lydia? ht sky. She’sThe front door swings open and Viscountess Bolingbroke and the rest of the girls come piling in, finally home from the ball.
There is giggling, the swishing of silks, wet shoes plopping onto the stone ght of her, afloor.
And then the hush of terrified silence as they enter the sitting room to find Queen Mor and me in front of the fire. me in,” I say,“Sit,” she commands. The drawing room is small, and with this many bodies, it’s crowded.
Olive perches on the edge of my armchair, her butterfly wings wilting he staff havebehind her. Faith and Marion tangle together on the chair across from us, Marion’s seashell tiara now askew on Faith’s head. Greer and Emmy sit on the roof andthe ground right in front of the fire, and I’m terrified that Greer’s peacock feathers are going to catch some embers, but I’m too afraid to break the tense silence to warn her.
“It seems you didn’t enjoy our game today,” Queen Mor says, frowning. don’t drink a“There are few things I hate worse than poor sports.” so it doesn’tMy stomach curdles with fear. Olive’s knuckles go white as she grips the ntel ticks andedge of the armchair.
“These lessons are important, they help me get to know you. Bram needs the slightest.my help in selecting his bride,” she continues. “One of you will one day like waiting.become a most-beloved daughter-in-law, and we can’t leave something like emember thethat up to chance, can we?” m struck withNone of us answer, too scared or angry or frozen to manage it. But she stares us down with those uncanny black eyes until Emmy breaks. cause I fear I“No, ma’am.” We echo her in a shaky chorus. able and open“I realize now, the fault was mine,” Queen Mor says. “I should have ter’s bargaingiven you more instruction. How can one play a game when the rules are so poorly defined?” mother, everShe lets her words hang in the air, then closes her eyes and takes a big
inhale, her body visibly relaxing, as if luxuriating in our fear. “Let’s add a stop it fromfew more terms, shall we? The girl with the lowest score at the end of all this isappeared?”will have her family stripped of their titles and their land. Any more acts of my questioninsubordination will be your last. Understood?”
My blood turns to ice. She’ll kill us all if we don’t play along.
asn’t in the
nd the rest of
onto the stone
room to find
th this many
wings wilting
oss from us,
Emmy sit on
er’s peacock tense
ys, frowning.
she grips the
. Bram needs
will one day mething like
ge it. But she
should have e rules are so
d takes a big
inhale, her body visibly relaxing, as if luxuriating in our fear. “Let’s add a few more terms, shall we? The girl with the lowest score at the end of all this will have her family stripped of their titles and their land. Any more acts of insubordination will be your last. Understood?”
My blood turns to ice. She’ll kill us all if we don’t play along.
