I savored his desire and drank his hope.
He nudged the arms of my unlaced gown over my shoulders. The dress gasped to the floor, pooling heavy around my ankles and gusting cool air through my chemise. I sighed into his mouth. His hands dropped to my waist and smoothed over my hips. He lifted me, bracing me against his hard body.
And when he leaned me back against the bed, trailing searing kisses down my throat, I realized how much I wanted this too—this glittering moment looped bright between us. I wanted to taste his kisses and swallow his promises until they were polished hard as diamonds that could never break apart. Maybe then I would be all right.
We wouldbothbe all right.
“Of all the places you could have asked to meet me,” remarked Lullaby as she walked up to the door of Severine’s chambers, “this one is easily the most macabre.”
Even though I’d summoned her, I still jumped a little at the sound of her bell-bright voice. Nerves tangled in my chest as I reached for the doorknob. Lullaby didn’t know Severine was still technically alive—I’d had neither the inclination nor the opportunity to tell her. But now I thought I must. I only hoped this shared secret could stitch our friendship back together, not drive us further apart.
“Thanks for coming.” My voice sounded stilted, even to my own ears. “There’s something I need to tell you. Or maybe I’d better just show you.”
I led the way into the chamber to the curtain-shrouded bed and my sister’s prone figure.
“What—?” Lullaby’s face creased with confusion, then crumpled into horror. Color drained from her skin, leaving her pale and shaking. For a brittle moment, I thought she might faint. But then she flushed, hot and angry, and marched closer to the bed. “A bloody assassination resulting in the deaths of twoscore noble children and countless Paper City rebels. A broken crown with empty coffers, an exiled army encamped in brutal conditions. A city chafing at the bonds of martial law—striking workers, criminals looting businesses, ordinary people rioting in the streets. All that—? Do you mean to tell me all that was fornothing?”
The echoes of her words bored holes in my chest.
“Notnothing.” The word choked me, heavy with the weight of my own doubts. “Dowser says she is unlikely to wake ever again. She will not stand in the way of my coronation.”
Lullaby’s eyes narrowed. “Who else knows?”
“Dowser. Sunder, so probably Oleander too. And you.”
“Do you want me to finish the job?” she asked abruptly. “Do you want me to kill her for you?”
I stared at Lullaby with my mouth open, shocked into silence for once in my life.
“I’ll do it, you know. For what she did to Blossom—to all of us. But especially for what she did to Thibo.”
“It’s not right,” I said, without conviction. My palms itched, and the air around us shimmered with all the boundless nightmare deaths I’d never had the guts to inflict on her. “It would be a brutality.”
“It would be mercy,” Lullaby spat. “After everything she has done? It would almost be a kindness.”
“Maybe.” I hated that my voice quavered. “But if anyone does it—it has to be me.”
“What are you waiting for?”
I hated myself for killing her once. Imagine how I would hate myself for killing her twice. “I think I’m waiting to prove her wrong. To prove I can do better than her. To prove—like you said—that this was all worth it in the end.”
“Is this the reason you brought me here?” She gave her head a rough shake. “I’m not sure what good this does us, Mirage.”
“I also—” I hesitated. Echoes of what had once been a friendship drifted tenuous between us. An apprehension of loss clutched me, and I knew if I couldn’t be vulnerable with Lullaby now, I would lose her forever. And I didn’t think I could do any of this without her. “I also wanted to ask for your help.”
Caution and disdain played a complicated game across her face. “With what?”
Wordlessly, I took Lullaby’s hand, closed my eyes, and dreamed of a world I’d never seen—the world of the ocean.
It was a dream of turquoise deepening to azure. A froth-danced surface blotted out the red sky above: a dark-water womb of salt and sand. Shafts of sunlight painted a silent susurrus against the ocean floor, illuminating blossoms of algae and coral blooming pink between the greening fronds. A school of jeweled fish darted past, shatter-bright and gleaming.
I opened my eyes in time to see the illusion go wrong—ghostly water stained dark as vengeance, cloudy sea-foam frothing spittle along bloody sand, poison tendrils slapping against bloated bodies. I clenched my fists, biting down on the corrupted vision. It hissed away into nothing.
“Your illusions.” Her sea-blue eyes met mine with something darker than pity and paler than curiosity. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Recently—” I hesitated. I didn’t want to admit what I’d known almost since that day in the Marché Cuirasse. Admitting meant it was real. “Ever since I tried to kill Severine, they’ve all been stained with blood, tainted with Duskland shadows. It’s like all my dreams have turned into nightmares.”
“Like that Nocturne in the dungeons,” she murmured.
