“And if I appeal to Madame Giroux?”
“She’ll likely stab you,” Selene said. “There’s a sword in her cane.”
“Good point. Luckily, I have incredible foresight.” Victor held up his basket. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I can’t,” Selene said.
Victor’s look softened out of mischief and into something a little too close to pity. He shrugged on his jacket, leaving his bare chest exposed. “Is there someplace we can go here?”
Selene’s stomach ached with hunger. She could do that. “Let me get dressed first.”
“Two minutes.” Victor’s eyes burned like the stage lights.
She shut the door behind him, pressed her back against the wood, and closed her eyes, willing the tears away. She needed a moment to process, to shake the image of Priya screaming on the floor and the feeling of the magic fighting back. To search inside herself for the sound of her father’s voice. It was still there, but softer. Selene couldn’t give up any more.
How close she’d been to losing everything. And Victor had stepped in to save her. But she wasn’t a damsel in distress. She’d been in control. Maybe that was what Victor needed to see, so different from the lightning strike that had changed her life. She wasn’t a small and helpless girl, meant to be saved. She’d grown up. Selene was powerful, indomitable. She was unstoppable.
And she wished he’d come into her life at any other point. A week earlier, a week later. Anytime but now, just as she was on the verge of something. She didn’t have the time for him. Her focus was needed elsewhere, remembering her music, searching for the death of a dream, returning to the ghost.
But the room wouldn’t stop spinning and Selene knew herself well enough. She needed to eat and take a breath and clear her mind. If she didn’t give herself a moment’s rest, she’d be useless.
Sitting down on the bed, she grabbed the only dress in reach. It was a mulberry gown with sleeves that peeled off the shoulders and tapered into fur. The wide skirt would allow her to move freely without aggravating the cuts in her leg. Gold embroidery trickled down the bodice. The high collar was lined with black fur. It was more extravagant than she needed for the day, but it would keep her throat warm and safe against the coming chill.
The door handle was sticky beneath her fingers, honey-coated from Victor’s touch.
Victor stood at the top of the stairs. He’d gotten restless. Little flecks of mud from his boots traced up and down the hallway. When he saw her, his sharp inhale was audible. His tongue danced on his teeth, like there was something he wanted to say. He shook his head, thinking better of it.
She held up the bundle. “I finally got your letters.”
Victor’s cheeks flushed. “Oh no. Maybe you shouldn’t—”
He reached for them. Selene pulled the letters back, overjoyed to catch Victor off guard.
“You think I’m going to give these up so easily?”
“Please forgive the ramblings of a lovesick teen boy.” Victor rubbed his face with his hand.
“We were kids.” Selene put the letters on her bed.
“And yet, I kept you like an oath.”
Selene had kept him like a secret, not even telling Gigi.
“Well, now that we’ve gotten that mortifying truth out in the open.” Victor offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Chapter 32
It seemed that every room in the opera house was occupied in preparation for the competition. Servants from the palace gave them a wide berth, casting suspicious glances toward Victor.
“We could always go back to your room.”
Selene shuddered. She couldn’t be in that space right now. She needed to be away from her sins, away from the promise of further solitude. But what choices did she have? There was one place she was sure they would not be interrupted, but it was dangerous.
“I know a place.”
She led him down the hallway, through the secret passageway to descend beneath the opera house. King Renard watched them with woven eyes. Selene flourished and pulled back the tapestry.
“Very clever. I knew you’d find the best secret places wherever you were.”
