The words on the page swim before me, the book almost slipping from my damp grasp. I roll the silver ball in front of the balcony doors to obscure the beautiful brunette faerie.
I can’t,she grits out, and I am back in my body, trying to breathe through the pain.
I’ll be quick,I think.
I don’t know if I can—
I pull the two pins from my hair, crouching before the lock.Straining, my genius slips under the door, and I gather the faintest sound of snores on the other side.
I am in the garden again, gripping a book I’m not reading. I’m pacing before the brunette faerie, I am the brunette faerie, I am a child with clumsy hands, picking the lock of a basement window, my father urging me on from the bushes.
Remember the coin pouch,he says.
Now is not the time for sentimentality,Kassandra cuts in. I shake my head again, but the pain swells, a splitting of my mind, the galloping of my heart.
I can’t keep up three—
Drop the balcony Illusion,I say.
Are you in yet?she asks.
Are you in yet?my father asks. The window jerks in its frame, and I am shoving the pane upward, with all my strength. I slip inside the cool basement, dropping down on a desk.
The balcony doors click open. The snoring inside sputters, then starts again. My mind splinters.
Drop,I grit out.Drop something—
The silver ball pitches over the balcony edge, unraveling to a thread that lands before the silver cat. The cat pounces on the prodigal magic, the Illusion sighing in relief. The words on the page fall back into place, and the pain eases.
I am back in my body, my sweaty forehead pressed against the doorjamb, hairpins clutched in my hand. The air is cool and dark, filled with the scent of sex. I am inside Dominik’s chamber. Slowly, so slowly, I turn.
Garish crimson-and-gold walls greet me.
What color is the furniture?Kassandra asks.
My mind reels as her voice bites into my side.
I twitch.What are you doing here?
I’m stuck in you. Now—furniture?
My focus returns to the room. From my position on the floor, the red velvet drapes surround the four-poster bed, the chest of drawers and armoire stained black, the trim details more the colorof brass than gold. It’s as if someone designed the room to look regal without ever having been in the Pith before.
He could’ve used his own décor allowance,I think.
The chipped diamond bites into my rib playfully. Now that this space is known to the both of us—me for the first time, and Kass for the first time in decades, I can picture the path out of here, lacing directly down to the garden once I am done, avoiding the stupidity of the balcony.
My eyes fall on the servants’ door, blending in if one did not know where to look. At the very least, I could escape that way, but then I will be seen, no doubt, by one of Dominik’s attendants. After last night, we do not want to test anyone’s loyalty—no one but each other’s.
Has the tea been drunk?she asks.
A servants’ stand is to the left of the bed. I crouch forward, slinking along the carpet, until I can see the two teacups.
Drunk dry.
Based on the snoring from the bed, the sleeping tonic has taken effect. Dominik will eventually wake and may even rise after I’ve made my move, but not before then. That is what matters the most.
So I crawl to the side of his bed. His slack expression faces me, his companion on the other side of him. I cannot reach him like this, and it would be too risky to loom over his bedfellow. I must wait until he rolls over.
