I swallowed a hot lump and swiped away a tear. What was wrong with me? I cursed, tugging at my stubborn stays.
“Will you call Elodie for me?” I’d gotten passably good at doing my own corsets, but the thick fabric of this gown made it impossible to take off without help. “I’m having trouble with this dress.”
“I’m already here,” Sunder said. “Let me help.”
“And I suppose you’re an expert at corsets?”
“Taking them off, at least,” he drawled.
I glared around the edge of the screen.
“That was a joke, demoiselle.” A smile coiled in the corner of his mouth, and he crooked a finger at me to come closer. “I grew up with a sister whose own servants refused to touch her. I know how to lace—and unlace—a gown.”
I stepped out, clutching the half-laced dress to my waist and shrugging against its sagging shoulders. Sunder’s eyes darkened. I turned my back to him, giving him easier access to my laces while hiding the heat flaming at my cheeks. His hands—encased in suede gloves, as usual—slid against my neck, lifting my mass of dark hair and nudging it over one shoulder. I shivered as his fingers gently tugged at my stays.
“Why did Oleander’s servants refuse to touch her?” I gasped out, to distract myself from the fire-flush burning a hole in my belly.
Sunder made a noise in his throat.
“No, I mean—” I choked on hesitation. I knew neither Suicide Twin particularly liked talking about their malignant legacies. “She wears gloves to keep her touch from being poisonous. Couldn’t they have done the same?”
“The gloves are more warning than safeguard.” A shock zinged down my spine from his fingers, as if to corroborate his words. “When Oleander first grew into her powers, there were—accidents. A careless maid ended up with both her hands amputated. A pretty groom in the stables lost his lips and teeth and never spoke again. After a while, she feared to touch them even more than they feared to touch her.”
“And so you helped her lace her corsets.” Shock and creeping pity sank sharp teeth into my heart. “Weren’t you ever afraid she would poison you?”
“She is my sister. I could never fear her. Not when I know exactly what it feels like to be feared. We are a matched pair—as long as we are together, we feel a little less like monsters.” He gave my stays one last tug. “There. You’re finished.”
His hands lingered at my waist. I turned, met his eyes. An ocean of desire frothed against the icy cliff of his will.
“Where there any accidents?” I knew I shouldn’t ask. “When you first came into your powers?”
“Almost too many to count.” His gaze writhed with ancient torment and fresh anguish. His hands fell from my waist. He stepped away from me. “I hate that you went to the Paper City without a garde last Nocturne. It was reckless, impetuous, and borderline suicidal. After everything we’ve all done to secure your place as Sun Heir, we deserve to know you’re safe.”
“I know.” I clutched my loose bodice against my chest. I expected to resent his words, but just felt wretched instead. “I know I haven’t lived up to the potential you all saw in me. I know you thought that impossible world I dreamed up would give you all the empress you deserved.”
Something fractured in Sunder’s face. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Deserve.”I rolled the word around my mouth and tasted its cold contours. “As a child I begged the Sisters to love me. I wrapped my arms around their legs and kissed them as they passed me by, but I had too much dusk inside me for them to love. When I grew old enough to leave, I sought a new world, but all I found were hollow promises of that glittering life I’d dreamed. So I stole what I thought I deserved—Istoleit, with guile and blood and death. I stole dusk into the light and now you wonder why it’s still so dark here.”
Sunder’s mouth went soft, then hard. “Is this about Gavin?”
My fingernails bit into my palms. Sunlight and golden coins, laughter and ease. I didn’t know how to compete with that. Especially when I’d failed to manifest anything from that impossible world I’d once dreamed.
“Is this who I am, Sunder? A mirage of something I might once have become, if only I hadn’t reached too high and fallen too far? Will I ever be more than the girl waiting impatiently in the dusk for something she could never earn and would never deserve?”
“You will earn your place.” Sunder caught me against him. I could feel how tightly he was holding himself together—his muscles strung hard as bowstrings, his hand tingling strange where it cupped my head. “You will earn their love. Not because of what you deserve, but because of who youare. Because of what you dream. Because of how hard you fight for the worlds only you can see.”
“How do you know?”
He just smiled, tilting my face toward his.
“I know.”
The sound of his voice sifted fire along my bones. He touched me like I was something precious he had lost. Unveiled desire pulsed in his eyes, and for a moment that hurt more than his touch. Scion, how badly he wanted this.
I closed the gap between us, and kissed him.
I tasted my own indecision first—a creeping inhalation of regret transcended by a lingering exhale of resolve. His fingers moved like moths on my neck, then glided along my collarbones, stinging yet soft. His tightly wound muscles held his legacy in check. I shuddered, leaning into him even as I cautioned myself for craving his touch. He buried his hands in my hair, scattering diamond pins on the floor. My mouth opened on his and he deepened the kiss, until all I could taste was my own delirious dread at doing something I knew must end in pain.
