“Happiness?” Enne repeated deliriously. “What happiness is there for me, with a legacy of such destruction and evil?” She held her head in her hands. “What does thismakeme?”
“I didn’t want to tell you because, well...” He watched her sadly. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She let out a snort. “It’s a bit late for such concern.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
Enne leaned against the bureau to steady herself. The revelation that she was a Mizer had been difficult. It meant that Lourdes had lied to her, that Enne’s own understanding of herself was built on fallacy. And it branded her with a history that she’d never wanted.
But this time, it felt different. There were no more shadowy alcoves in Enne’s past, hiding her secrets. The light had finally been cast, and with it, Enne felt a sense of rightness. As a criminal, Enne hadn’t merely survived on the streets of the City of Sin; she’d thrived, and now she knew why.
Enne let out a cry, not from sadness, but from triumph. Any guilt she had felt from being too much of a gangster or too much of a lady vanished. She could be both without contradiction. This had always been her story.
“I don’t know what to say,” Levi said softly. He opened his mouth to speak again, but for once, he must not have had anything clever to argue, because no sound came out. He looked utterly at a loss, and Levi Glaisyer did not wear hopelessness well. It sagged at his shoulders, bled a bruised violet beneath his eyes.
She laughed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Once again, you’re interpreting me entirely wrong. I’m relieved.”
“How can you possibly be relieved?” he asked. “You know what this means if Fenice finds out.”
“I think for all the same reasons that you don’t look at your casino with any pride,” Enne answered. “It doesn’t feel good to question who you are.”
“And now that you know...” Levi eyed her warily. “Should I be concerned? I’m not sure Veil’s actions should empower anyone. I should know—I’m the one who idolized him.”
“I wouldn’t say empower, exactly. But...” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I want for myself, but this makes me think that...maybe one day I might.”
He nodded, staring once again at the Emperor card in his hand. “If it weren’t for Bryce’s game trapping us here, I think I might leave.”
“You’d leave New Reynes?” Enne asked incredulously.
“I don’t know. Maybe not forever,” he admitted. “But it’d be nice to see more of the world.”
Enne’s heart ached for him, for this freedom she couldn’t give him. Bryce’s game was impossible to win without the deaths of at least some of the people she cared about, and she hated to think what it would be like to live inside this curse forever, trapped in New Reynes and doomed to always look over her shoulder. Or worse, to suffer the loss of another friend.
But there had to be a way to win this. Enne and Levi had once played a different game that couldn’t be won, and they’d emerged victorious.
The thought gave her an idea. “This game is a shade,” Enne said, taking an excited step closer to him. “And shades can be broken.”
His eyes widened. “Like the timer. The timer held together the Shadow Game. There’s something that holds this game together, too.”
“And whatever it is, that means we can destroy it,” Enne finished.
Levi took a deep breath, an expression spreading across his face that Enne gradually recognized as hope. Hope, she realized, thatshehad given him.
He reached out and grasped her by the hand, tugging her until she stood over him. Enne fought the urge to jolt back at his touch, thinking of all the words and false embraces exchanged between them. Her heart had proven to snag on even the flimsiest of lines.
“I swear it,” he spoke, startling her even more. “Oath by oath. Blood by blood.” The words held no power here, the words of a gangster swearing to their lord. But then Levi reached forward and handed her his card. The Emperor. He gently lowered each of her fingers over it until she grasped it.
“Life by life,” he breathed.
Enne had come here for this very card, but now her hand shook to touch it. It felt fragile, the same way their lives felt fragile. With this card, if Enne died, then Levi would, too. And pardon or not, there was no shortage of perils in this city.
His hand lingered over hers, and her stomach knotted as she looked him in the eyes, even in the dimness of the room. She felt a desire seed and sprout inside her, until it felt as though vines constricted the very breath from her chest. It was a hurt. It was a need. The cumulative force of so much time spent longing for him, dreaming of him, and loathing him made her struggle just to stand upright.
But she had made many mistakes where Levi was concerned, so all she murmured was, “Thank you.”
He nodded, his gaze never straying from her own.
A silence followed, begging to be broken.
