Once it has its claws in you…
No king waiting in the shadows here, no ceremony pledged to steal my soul. I was safe, as safe as I had ever been at Evermore. But Ruby and my father weren’t.
Dorian sighed, propping himself up on one elbow. “It’s the calm, isn’t it?”
I looked up at him, startled.
“The quiet,” Dorian continued softly. “I hate it too.”
I turned as a shadow fell across us. The warmth of the sun was swallowed by something tall, standing at the edge of the field. Dorian went motionless.
Two figures had appeared on the path leading to Ariel Hall, their silhouettes stark against the hazy glow of the late afternoon sun. One of them I recognized instantly. The executor. Theman who had first led me through the doors of Evermore, who had placed the contract into my shaking hands, who had incitedall of this. He looked different now, though. Paler.
It was the second figure who prickled the skin on my arms. He was dressed impeccably, his long black coat lined with silver embroidery, his waistcoat buttoned high over a crisp white shirt. A pocket watch gleamed at his hip, the delicate chain glinting in the fractured sunlight. And when he lifted his chin to finally look at me, his face was familiar.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Davenant.” He took a single step forward, his polished boots pressing into the overgrown grass. He nodded to Dorian. “Mr. Cavendish. I do hope you’ll forgive my lateness.”
Lateness.He spoke like he was expected, like this meeting had been preordained, an inevitability.
Nausea crept up my throat, slow and acidic. The executor said nothing, standing beside him like a ghost, like he was caught between his duty and the dread that covered his face like a mask.
“Archibald Astoria,” He extended a hand. I forced myself to remain still, even as my breath turned shallow, even as something deep in my ribs screamed to move. A single ring adorned his left hand, the insignia carved into it so familiar it sent something curling in my chest, something clawing at the edges of my memory.
Had I seen it here, at Evermore? No.I had seen the crest before somewhere, somewhere back home. Before the Rift. Before the cards. Before I had known the truth of it all.
Archibald Astoria tilted his head, watching me study him. “Your mother spoke so highly of you.”
The air left my lungs. I felt Dorian shift closer, but it was as if I had been unmoored, as if my mind had separated from my body and was drifting somewhere else. I was trying to makesense of the shape of the words, the way they fit together in ways they shouldn’t.
“My—” My voice broke. I swallowed hard, forcing steel into my spine. “You knew my mother.”
Astoria’s smile sharpened. “Knew?” He echoed, as if the word was a curiosity. His eyes gleamed. “Why, I still do.”
The executor flinched. Dorian’s hands foolishly searched his pockets, grappling for a weapon he did not have.
Archibald Astoria exhaled through his nose, the kind of sound a man makes when he’s already seen the ending of a story. His hand dipped into the pocket of his coat. “Your mother left something for you, you know.” His voice was calm, but I felt the weight beneath it, the slow turning of fate’s wheel. “I have been waiting a very long time to deliver it.”
My throat tightened. “What?”
He withdrew a single envelope, its edges worn soft with age, the paper yellowed like parchment left too long in the sun. “You’ll need to read it before term begins.”And then, as smooth and damning as the final note in a requiem, Archibald Astoria said, “It concerns your place at Evermore.”
