It isn’t all for spite. I’m also sentimental, and whether either of us wanted it or not, he was my father.
If he wouldn’t care for me in life, then he will in death.
“Will you help me do the clasps of my dress, Papa?” I ask my father’s skeleton, even though no verbal command is actually required. Sorcery is not like magic in that it needs to be spoken; instead, sorcery is controlled by a mere thought.
It’s so much more powerful than any magic, but perhaps that is why it is illegal. Because people fear the sort of power it grants.
Boney fingers start on my clasp as I turn my attention back to getting ready for the ball. Taryn picked the best dress for me. So many colors clash with my red hair and make it difficult to wear, but this pale pink instead compliments and brings out my coloring in a manner that I would not have expected.
The sleeves flare at my elbow and the skirts swoosh over my petticoats. I rest my hand over my heart and determine to thank Taryn the next time I see her for doing her part in making me the prettiest girl who will be in Sunder Hollow tonight.
I wonder if I should invite her to my wedding. On one hand, I would want her to be there, but on the other I worry that she will see right through me and know that I don’t love my groom. For years, we lamented the fact that neither of us has brothers thatthe other can marry. The closest we came to being related is that at one point in time, there was an arrangement for her cousin to marry my cousin, but that fell through. Still, it doesn’t matter. I’ve since realized that I don’t need to be related by blood for us to be sisters.
After all, I don’t share a drop of blood with Corallin or the rest of my adopted family. And yet they are just as much my family as my own twin Bronwyn.
Taryn is a sister of my soul, and I feel her with me as I wear this dress tonight.
“I think I’m ready,” I tell myself, my looking glass, and the knitted bones behind me.
My father shambles back down to my cellar where I keep him hidden, and I put on the brightest smile I have, ready to enter that night and become someone else.
Someone that I might actually enjoy being.
Chapter Six
Natasya
It’s a crisp autumn night as I go out to the village square. The housewives of Sunder Hollow have been busy preparing for the impromptu ball, and the square is lit with candles that have been placed in carved out pumpkins to protect the flames from the occasional sharp, chill breeze.
While I was dressing with the aid of my skeleton butler, the townspeople decided it was time to show Evengi Ichabod that while we are a small town, we know how to throw a ball.
“My dear,” Brom whispers in my ear as he comes up behind me. He takes my arm and guides it into the crook of his arm. “You look exquisite tonight.”
I smile to myself, I do. And that’s all Brom needs me to be, his pretty little bride-to-be to hang off his arm. There’s no reason for him to ever need to know about the skeletons in my cellar because all we will ever be to each other is a trophy. And that’s fine with me.
It would get too messy if there were true feelings involved. I mean, just look at Bronwyn. Wilder has the power to completely control her emotions and can either ruin her day or make it with a simple string of words. I can’t imagine actually giving someone that sort of power over me.
“There’s our gangly guest,” I whisper to Brom, nodding my chin to Evengi who has stepped into the square. He’s traded out his dusty traveling clothes for a fresh tunic of royal blue, a short purple cape hangs from his shoulders. His golden hair catches in the candlelight as he turns as if he realizes that we are talking about him.
I feel my breath clog in my throat as it seems almost as if his eyes lock on mine even across the distance of the village square. Evengi smiles to himself and begins to stride across the square toward us.
“I swear, Natasya, there is something about this Mr. Ichabod that is oddly familiar,” Brom says to me.
I turn to him, my eyes flicking over my fiancé’s features registering the concern he feels. I don’t know who this Evengi is, but his presence here could very well jeopardize me. I want Brom complacent, not worried and on edge.
Still, maybe if he is so focused on Evengi, he won’t bother looking at me.
Fiddle and flute music fills the air, and the square begins to fill as the inhabitants of Sunder Hollow begin to party. We don’t have a proper bard, but some men here have picked up some musical knowledge from the odd traveling minstrel whowould stop and stay in the town. It’s not any sort of traditional sounding music that I’ve heard in the outside world.
That music is lilting and subtle, this is rustic and haunting.
I plaster a smile on my face as Evengi strides toward us, a glass of spiced apple cider in his hand. “I appreciate this ball, Brom,” he says, smacking Brom’s arm with a sort of familiarity that causes my fiancé to frown.
“It was our pleasure,” I say quickly before Evengi notices Brom’s frustration. I’ll admit, I find myself rather curious about this newcomer and why Brom finds him so familiar. I tell myself that it’s simply because I need to protect my investment. A threat to Brom is a threat against my chances of getting that spellbook. I wrap my arm around Brom’s waist, resting my hand on the spellbook resting there, reminding myself of what I’m doing this all for.
Brom mistakes my caress and pulls me closer, placing a kiss to the top of my head.
Evengi’s eyes, too sharp, too cunning, dart to my hand, then to Brom, before finally landing on me. I stiffen slightly. He has no reason to suspect me of anything, and yet, I can’t help but feel as though he takes in more than he should.
