Elysia stood up, dusting herself off. She shook her head at him in disappointment. “All I wanted was one night, one memory.” A bone-deep ache filled her, but she kept the dagger lifted as she started walking backwards. A certain sadness flittedthrough her voice. “I don’t know how anyone else reaches him, so don’t bother. Trust me that I’m going to do all I can.”
When she reached the edge of the woods, she lowered her dagger and whispered to the trees. “Truce over.”
Inside her, a little girl in a charcoal dress with a red ribbon sash watched one dream die as another was born. She would never wear the Kavian crown or stand beside the one who did, but maybe she could be someone who helped save her home from the ruin of rot that swept it now.
The dark-haired little girl looked out at her, dropping her red ribbon to the forest floor from her hand. In its place, a bronze-handled dagger shone bright and true, a flower appearing behind her ear where a skull and dice now lived.
Chapter 38
Elysia stoodin her living room with her feet leaden and heart in tangles. The wicked delight that normally enthralled and disgusted her in equal measure at the thought of loosening her grip on her magic until she nearly lost her head was nowhere to be found this year. She hated working for her father, but she had deep down loved the chance to break free of the constraints that normally chained her. The Raven Ball was a time for debauchery. No one ever batted an eye at strange behavior, it was practically expected, which meant it was the one night she had felt free.
This year the enchanting veneer of freedom was cracked and worn with the dinge of Kava’s plight and her own slick fear.
She knew she needed to hurry. Yet she stood silent in her flat, her body weighted and unwilling to move. A sense of foreboding came over her like a dark cloud, but she shooed it away. It was only natural that she felt dread. This could very well be the last time she saw her friends and family. No matter how horrible things had been, leaving her family behind without a word of explanation still felt like a betrayal.
She thought back to last year’s ball and wondered at how different her life had become in such a short time. She no longersought the perfect secret to please her father, or believed she might one day earn his love. She no longer yearned to crack open the ribs of her mother, so she could peer into her chest and see the shallow depths of her cold, unfeeling love.
The sense of possibility—a frivolous lie that felt like hope and wide-open paths—had left her for good. She had watched all of her possibilities shrivel up and turn to dust.
No longer was she burdened with false dreams of safety and love. The life she had imagined with a crown and her family finally embracing her had dried up and blown away. She now knew that these were merely delusions that had carried her for years. They were a child’s dream, and sometimes those were the hardest to kill.
Now that little girl stood calm and ready, her dark eyes serious and a dagger in her hand. She was the girl who had been found in a pool of blood inside a vendor’s cart. Trained and loved as if she were his own by Kava’s Shadow. She was the girl who had disappeared into nothing while her father carved her feet. She was the girl who threw herself at a man who did not love her to secure a better future. But now, she took all of it, and walked toward a future that was her own.
She told no one about her plan. She’d listened to all the whispers and hidden in the darkness of the House for two weeks, and while she didn’t learn anything to strike a better deal with death, she had learned something very, very interesting.
Tonight would be a night for the books—the most memorable Raven Ball that Kava had ever seen. She only hoped she lived long enough to see her mother’s face when it happened.
Elysia pulled out the garment bag from her armoire and grabbed her cloak, readying herself for the walk to the castle. Once at the ball, she would be demurely alert. She would swish and glide amongst the guests as expected. She would pretend tobe a beautiful woman wearing a beautiful gown who hoped for nothing more than a man to bend his knee.
Her nerves jumped at the thought of the prince. All she could do was pray to the undead gods that the man didn’t do something insane like try to kidnap her now that he knew she could reach the realm of the dead. If he did, she would be ready.
Bending low to scratch beneath Larkspur’s chin, she murmured softly to him. “If anything happens, Jessa has a key. She’s far more responsible than Beatriz and will take good care of you.”
She stared into his purple eyes for another moment, her heart breaking. Throat thick, she ran her hand over his sleek black fur one more time before standing and walking out the door before she could change her mind.
Elysia had only just arrivedat her room within the castle when there was a shout outside the door.
“Let us in, Elysia!” There was a shuffling and clicking of high heels followed by more muttering. “Fucking freezing in these halls. You’d think they could afford a fire or two.”
Smiling, Elysia opened the door and found the friendly faces of Daphne and Remy popping into the doorframe like meerkats. Unlike her, the two women did not smile.
“Oh my undead gods.” Daphne looked traumatized. She looked at Remy for support, now gesturing frantically at Elysia while making aghast faces of disbelief.
Remy strolled in, sliding off her gloves and calling back over her shoulder. “Procrastinate much? We barely have twenty minutes and you’re a mess.”
Elysia followed her in. “You should have seen me before the bath. And I might have sent my mother’s servants away. I couldn’t deal with their fussing.”
Remy looked down at the pile of muddy clothes on the floor. “You went to the forest, didn’t you?”
“Felt necessary.” She hadn’t planned on it. But the forest wasn’t only his, it was hers too. She’d needed a longer walk than just from her flat to the castle, and had found herself ankle deep in muck, soot, and mud before long.
Remy wrapped a strand of Elysia’s wet hair around her finger. “You’re nervous.”
Daphne bustled in, shutting the door and flying around the room to gather supplies. “Of course she’s nervous. Only the entire city knows the prince is supposed to propose this evening.”
She held up two different pairs of heels, her face deep in thought. “What color is your dress? The rumor mill kept saying you got your dirty claws on a Pleur.”
Thatmade Elysia grin. She walked over to the garment bag and made quick work of the ties. She stood next to the dress, face alight with anticipation. “Well, what do you think?”
