I inhaled deeply. “I am different, Eve.” It felt both freeing and burdensome to admit it. It struck me that I hadn’t been daydreaming nearly at all since my classes had begun at Cardan Lott.
Itching to avoid the subject of school, I jumped off the couch and pulled out my old book of fairy tales from under the bed. Running my finger over the title, I walked back to where Evie still sat on the couch, twirling her short hair around a finger.
“Mama panicked when I came home from school like this,” Evie said, pulling her legs under her. “I almost felt like you, the way she hounded me.” Her giggle felt like a knife through my ribs.
“I’m sorry, Evie.” I’d left her alone with our mother for four months. It was no surprise she’d chopped off her hair. I only hoped that was the worst she’d done in my absence. “And don’t you try to be like me,” I said, folding down beside her.
Her brows lifted, making her look young again. “But all I’ve ever wanted was to be like you.”
Tightness pinched my throat, and I had to try three times before I could swallow. “Would you still let me read to you?” I asked. When she nodded, I had to bite back a small laugh that sounded almost like a sob.
“What is it?” Evie asked, her hand reaching for me.
“Nothing.” I thumbed through the book, fighting memories of Rush, which led to memories of Scarlett’s empty threats, then to fears of Duke Covington’s revenge, should he find out what I know. This book contained stories of star-crossed, impossible romances, stories Evie and I had acted out countless times over the years. I’d always played the prince, because Evie had always insisted on being the woman who captured his heart.
I’d always enjoyed the achingly romantic illustrations in the book,Tales of Enchantment from Avencia, especially the ones featuring the godborn with their mortal lovers. As a child, I’d dreamed of wearing clothes like theirs, staring wistfully into the eyes of an immortal who’d chosen me over all the glittering beauties of his own court. Now the stories felt more like punishment, a reminder that loves like that were notreal.
After reading her favorite story, I shut the book. “Where’s Mama?” I asked.
Evie shifted, her arms drawing closer to her sides. “She’s out selling her scarves.”
“She never got a real job?” I scowled.
Evie stood up, touching her hair to ensure it still looked fine. “Your nobleman friend sends us plenty of money. Mama said she didn’t have to accept the typist position.”
“So shewasoffered a job? And she rejected it?”
Evie nodded. “And Mama decided to move me to Rochester instead of Whitehall, with the funds and all.”
“Shewhat?” Rochester was almost as expensive as Cardan Lott, which meant they weren’t eating any better or living any more comfortably than before I’d left.
“Oh, don’t bark at me, Ari. With the money coming in, we can afford it.” She walked over in front of our only mirror, a small one hanging on the wall beside the bed. “One of the boys at Rochester is the son of the railroad tycoon.”
My arms lifted at my sides. “But you still livehere, Evie.”
Mama had called me the dreamer for as long as I could remember, but her delusions about Evie’s prospects were the real threat. Giving the girl false hope was a crime. She was pretty, to be sure, but there were rules when it came to marriages. My heart sank a little, but I ignored it. Even if I were accepted as a real dragon rider when everyone at Cardan Lott found out my heritage, my elevated rank wouldn’t affect Evie.
Smoothing out her skirt, she lifted her chin and peered at me in the mirror. “And you don’t anymore, Ari.”
My lungs collapsed. Right now, changing society didn’t sound as meaningful as protecting my little sister from the jaws of a hungry world. I set the book down and walked to Evie, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “I know,” I whispered. “But I still want to make sure you’re safe.”
She shrugged me off, a new thing. “Ari, I’m almost a grown woman. I’m fine.”
“It’s because you’re almost grown that you aren’t safe anymore.”
A huff escaped her lips. “You never let Bennett tell you no. Or Mama. You always just did what you wanted.”
The wind rattled the warped glass in our window, a familiar sound. Evie moved to start a fire in the dark hearth, and I stooped to help.
“I’m still your sister. Always your sister,” I said, handing her a log. “And I did listen to Bennett—about some things.” He’d taught me basic self-defense, and I was alive because of it.
“Bennett said he plagued you for years to join his gang, but you never would,” Evie said, letting me take over the task of starting a fire. She stood and peered out the window at the soot-streaked city.
I struck a match and held it under the kindling. “You’ve spoken to Bennett?”
“Yes. He’s been by a few times.”
A flicker of fear surged in my veins. “Why?”
