Selene thought of the ghost. Of what he might have done to deserve being trapped in the mirror. The possibilities were endless. If she could find out who the girl was, it might lead her closer to finding out the reason for his imprisonment. If she could find something terrible enough to warrant that punishment, she could find out who he was.
There was a part of her that didn’t want to know, her imagination run wild with what he could have done. She knew what Henri did and now that merited a crown. What sin was so great that it warranted a hundred years trapped in a mirror? Or was there some other trick to it, some explanation she couldn’t quite reach? She didn’t want to mar her vision of the ghost.
“She doesn’t want us to win. She might not want anyone to win.”
“We’re still missing something.” Gigi shifted the contents of her sewing basket. “Have you seen any of my needles?”
Selene had one in her pocket. A tiny sword waiting to spill her blood. She wouldn’t give it up.
“Have you checked behind the dresser?”
Gigi sighed and dropped onto her stomach, shifting the dust that lived beneath.
“Benson would have made it,” Gigi said. “Don’t you think?”
Selene closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about Benson. Didn’t want to think about what they had lost. She needed to save that pain and make use of it. It did no good to bleed here without purpose.
“Yes.”
“Aha!” Gigi came up with a handful of ribbons, a knot of thread, and a slightly bent needle. “It’ll have to do.”
Yes, it would.
Gigi made a few attempts to sew on her ribbons and then tossed the bent needle aside. She looked like she was going to cry again. She pulled her knees up to her chest and took a few steadying breaths, exhaling the frustration.
“Are we designing dresses?” Gigi retrieved her sketchbook, clearly in need of distraction.
It still seemed surreal to Selene that they had a whole team of seamstresses at their beck and call, ready to sew whole dresses based on their sketches and dreams. This was part of the privilege of the competition. They could have what they wanted because it was what the king wanted. All Selene wanted was to close her eyes to the world and wake up to the setting sun and the hope of tomorrow. But Gigi needed this. She sat up and patted the bed beside her.
“Absolutely.”
Gigi flipped through a half dozen designs. She talked about fabrics and their movement and how they took the light. Selene tried to listen, but her head was full of bees.
A royal carriage rolled by on the street below. Selene followed its movement until she lost sight of it. They could not see the palace from this vantage. She’d always been grateful for that.
Until now.
Victor was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be off doing whatever third princes did. Starting wars or sending ships or losing the crown jewels in an illicit poker match. This was her space, her life. He wasn’t a part of her anymore.
Her heart fluttered against the lie. She wished it were true. She wished she could look at him and feel nothing. She wished that she could take the painful hope of those memories and bleed them out. Make a magic out of them and use it to forget.
He remembered her.
Maybe she should let the darkness have her. Let it take and take until there was nothing left.
“What colors go best with your piece?” Gigi said. The look on her face told Selene that it wasn’t the first time she had asked.
“I haven’t written it.”
“I thought that’s what you’ve been working on. All these late nights.”
A lie bubbled in Selene’s throat. She borrowed enough truth to assuage the guilt. “Nothing has been good enough.”
Selene had been given a yes. The door had been cracked open enough that she might slip in. All she had to do was be the best. Show everyone that she was made of stars and shadows and a power so great she’d break them all. She would be the bird, not the shell. She would be the thing inside with a voice and wings. Not left on a shelf. Not an end, but a beginning.
“You have to go and write your aria.” Disappointment crept into Gigi’s voice.
“Yes. But if you need me …”
