“Yes, Your Highness,” Marus hisses, “I recall, and I have every intention of talking with her.”
“Onlytalk.” I cut a glare at him, but with my vision nearly black, I’m not sure if it has its intended effect.
Nyxia lowers her voice to a whisper. “Franco, you’re dying. Whatever you promised, it isn’t worth keeping from him if it means your death.”
My death. Yes, I am dying. How long have I been dying? Where am I?
“Franco!” Nyxia’s voice calls out with alarm, and I feel like I’m no longer inside my body. A second or an eternity later, I find myself on my back, something soft beneath me. My sister stands over me, voice quavering. “Just tell him where his fiancée is.”
Fear dances over my tongue—Nyxia’s fear—and I breathe it in. It relieves some of my agony and gives me a moment of clarity. “Princess Maisie’s room,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Only talk, though. Only talk.”
“Do you consider his promise fulfilled?” Nyxia’s voice is full of rage, but I can’t seem to open my eyes to assess her face.
“Not until I see her for myself,” Marus says.
My sister’s tone darkens. “I’ll take you there, but I won’t forget this, Marus. I won’t forget you let my brother’s life hang on the line. I could kill you where you stand.”
“And I won’t forget that you’ve both threatened my life in the span of a minute, Your Majesty. If you’d like to make good on your threat, then I promise you my brotherhood won’t forget either.” There’s a warning in his tone, but my mind is slipping again. I can’t make sense of what it means. Brotherhood. Death. All I know is pain.
When next I hear Nyxia’s voice, it’s whispered next to my ear. “I’ll be back. Hold tight. As soon as he sees her, your promise will be fulfilled.”
A flash of teal hair and smiling lips comes to mind, giving me another surge of clarity. I open my eyes to see Nyxia turning away and grasp her hand before she’s out of reach. “Don’t let anyone hurt her. Promise me.”
She furrows her brow. “I promise.”
That’s the last thing I see. The last thing I hear. Then nothingness swallows me whole.
* * *
EMBER
With a frightened squeal, the three wisps dart away and fly out the balcony door. My heart hammers, and I feel the blood leave my face at the sight of my stepsister standing on the other side of my threshold. Gone is the uncertainty she revealed the last time we spoke. She’s all smug confidence as she narrows her gaze at me.
“I know it’s you, so don’t even try to deny it.” Imogen brushes past me, leaving me gaping at the empty doorway.
What do I do? Try to convince her she’s wrong? Keep up the act?
Now that the bargain is broken, there’s very little she can hold over me. Before I revealed my true identity to Franco, my greatest fear was that he wouldn’t accept me for who I am. That he wouldn’t fight for me or defend me against my stepfamily’s wicked schemes once he realized what he’d be dealing with. There is still the matter of him fleeing so mysteriously, but I trust him now. Which means there’s nothing Imogen can do to hurt me anymore.
I close the door with a slam and round on my stepsister. “What do you want?”
“You don’t deny it. Good.” She reaches into the pocket of her skirt and takes out a piece of paper, holding it toward me as she unfolds it.
I freeze, recognizing my train ticket. The one I’d stashed with my ballgown and shoes. My eyes flash toward the trunk.
Imogen snickers. “I called on a locksmith to open that thing days ago when you were off playing princess with His Highness.”
My stomach roils. I recall how easy the lock was to open last night, needing nothing more than a few quick jabs with a knife handle. Now I know why. It hadn’t been locked at all.
She continues. “You may have fooled me after I confronted you about the locket, but I was determined to follow my suspicions to the end. Even once I found your old things and this little train ticket of yours, I knew there was still a chance Princess Maisie was only harboring you. Then, last night, Iknew.”
“How?”
Her lips curl into a sneer. “It was when I saw you at the ball last night. Your face may not have been your own, but your smile was. Your eyes were. No wonder you’ve been keeping your expression so impassive around me and Clara these past couple weeks. When I saw you smile and laugh with the prince last night, there was no denying who you really were. And when youdanced,” she says the last word through her teeth, “I felt the same way I do when you play your infernal piano. When yousing.”
I narrow my eyes. “I ask you again. What do you want?”
She takes a few leisurely steps closer, wrinkling her nose at the clothes strewn about the floor—clothes I’d originally had packed for my journey before Franco came to me last night. Without looking at me, she says, “I told Mother where you are. Told her about all the things I found hiding in Princess Maisie’s trunk. She’s on her way with royal guards to haul you back to Brother Marus. He doesn’t know yet. I’ve told only her.”
