She had wanted this for so long. Imagined those words. Now it was here and this was real and the sick feeling in her stomach was real, too.
“I brought down the chandelier. I can’t win.”
“That’s precisely why you have, my dear. That sort of power …” He closed his eyes, lips curling up like burning paper. “Let’s make this official, shall we?”
He took out a gold snake pendant with a black stone and held it up to her bare throat. Selene took a step back, body pressed into Victor’s. The king looked perturbed, like he hadn’t expected her to refuse him.
“You have a strong will,” the king said. “Like your father. No matter.”
He slipped the pendant around her throat, the clasp clicking shut with an overwhelming sense of finality. The setting was striking. A snake that wrapped its way around her neck, settling around the swirling dark gem.
Something was wrong, but the knowledge of what eluded her. A note she couldn’t sing. A piece of music she’d lost the melody to.Thiswas wrong. She needed to get away before she lost the chance.
The remaining audience burst into applause. The mages trained for the spectacle burst her name in lights. The orchestra had all but fled; one sorrowful bassoon played her fanfare.
Her instinct to flee drifted. She relaxed against Victor.
“This is the part where you say, ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’ ”
Her insides burned with rage. This man was responsible for everything that had gone wrong in her life. He had kept her father from her. He had orchestrated all of this. He’d let her believe her father was dead, dropped her wounded at an opera house, bid her be taught. And when she’d stumbled, he’d ensured she would stay in the competition. He had insisted she make it to the next round. What did he want from her? She hated him. She would not give in. But then the vigor of those feelings faded, and she gave him what he wanted.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Selene said.
“Come,” he said. “We’ll send for your things in the morning.”
“Now?” Selene said. She was so tired. She wanted to sink into her bed, her own bed for one more night.
“My dear, after I make a request you do not ask a question. You comply.”
Selene thought of her father in the cottage, in the palace, in his painted room. She understood him in a new way.
Who could say no to a king?
She couldn’t even if she tried. And she tried. Every part of her fought him, fought to keep herself together against this oppressive force. She would sing the air from his lungs. She would bring the chandelier back down. She would strike lightning into his ancient heart.
Except, she couldn’t.
She was frozen to this spot, waiting for his words, waiting for him to tell her what to do next. She tried to reach for the necklace and tear it off. But her hand did not belong to her.
Mine, the king said.
And there was a magic to that claim.
Victor held her fingers very tightly.
“Go,” the king said. “The carriage will be waiting.”
Victor tugged gently at her hand, leading her away.
“Not you,” the king said. “I’d like a word, Victor.”
And she could see in the stubborn set of Victor’s jaw that he’d like to stay. She had no choice but to release him. The king’s eyes lit at that. He smiled at her, showing his teeth.
Each one a pearl.
The Opera Magique shrank behind her. She rode in the carriage alone, as she’d arrived here. The great copper dome watched her, a single eye against the expanse of stars. They danced, forming new constellations like they had in the mirror.
It was over. L’Opéra du Magician was done and she had gotten everything she’d ever wanted.
