Selene pulled her hair back into a loose braid and put on her boots. All she needed was something old. She’d spend the day composing and configuring her magic.
There was a commotion in the hallway.
Selene peered around the corner. She recognized Benson’s mother and father. They’d been here before. Long visits on Sunday afternoons—the one day Madame Giroux allowed them to rest. Selene had spent that time in the practice rooms, pushing herself. There was no family for her, no one to visit. More than once, Benson had bullied her into joining his family for supper. She’d been grateful for those afternoons, even though there was a part of her that hated seeing what she’d missed. Benson’s family served as a reminder of a different life. One she’d never have the chance to lead.
And now Benson wouldn’t have it, either.
His little sister, Marie, stood with her back against the wall, thumb tucked in her mouth. They were packing up his things. Clearing the space for someone else.
“Selene?” Marie’s voice was watery with tears.
Selene closed her eyes a moment. She hadn’t meant to be seen. But she needed to do this. She owed Benson that much.
There was no need to force the sadness into her smile. Seeing Benson’s big eyes on Marie’s face did that easily enough. She didn’t ask Marie how she was. She knew.
“Marie,” Selene said.
At the sound of her voice, Benson’s parents stepped out to greet her. They’d separated his things into piles. Selene could pick out his most precious books, stacked haphazardly in what was no doubt the discard pile. When they were gone, she’d take the ones he’d read the most and put them in the library he so loved.
“Thank you.” Benson’s mother wrapped Selene in a tight hug. “Madame Giroux told us what you did.”
Selene stiffened.
“It was nothing.” Emotion washed over her. The look on Marie’s face brought her back to moments she’d rather not remember. There was too much power in this pain. Enough to split her open and drive her into madness without a single note. “How is he?”
His mother’s eyes filled with tears. “He’s settling into the Asylum. We put your name down, if you want to visit.”
Selene’s smile could have cracked her teeth. She didn’t want to visit. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that place. “He will be missed.”
“Was he scared?” Marie’s little face was wet with tears.
“No.” What was one more lie? “It was quick.”
Marie nodded. She wrapped her arms around Selene’s waist. Selene pressed her hand into the girl’s back. If she could have, she would have told her to use this, to embrace this pain and let it shape her into something stronger. Let it burn away the impurities and forge her into something new.
“Come on, Marie.” Benson’s mother ushered the girl back into the room. She looked at Selene with tired eyes. “Thank you, I mean it. It could have been so much worse.”
The door to Benson’s room locked. The weight of that finality pressed into her chest, nearly knocking her to the floor.
Selene retreated to her room for a moment to gather her thoughts. Grief manifested in the strangest places, seeing his books stacked, books he’d never read again. She fought back tears.
Madame Giroux did not wait for permission to enter. There was a knock, and before the sound could register, she was inside. She gave one discerning look to her splayed daughter and then focused on Selene.
“The prince has requested that you give him a tour of the opera house. I deemed it unnecessary, but he insists.” Madame Giroux was clearly displeased, pinched and put out by a man who wanted to insert himself into her opera house.
“Now?” Selene’s heart beat impetuoso, against her will. She wanted to feel nothing. It would be so much easier if she could expel Victor from her bones.
“Now.”
“You can’t wear that,” Gigi protested. She propelled herself off the bed and toward the dresser.
“She can.” Madame Giroux’s voice was clipped and cold.
“Mother,” Gigi said. If it had been possible for Madame’s face to pinch even more, it would have. Gigi cleared her throat and then corrected her approach. “Madame. This is the prince. And we are afforded a unique opportunity for his patronage. If it is Selene he wants, then should we not offer him our best Selene?”
Perhaps the argument had done the trick. Perhaps Madame liked the thought of keeping the prince waiting. She tapped her cane against the floor. “Be quick about it.”
She shut the door behind her with more force than necessary.
