Ivy’s eyes flit to the ground. “If you’ll excuse me—” She curtsies again, and the footman takes her hand in his and helps her down the steps and into the carriage. Leaving me standing in the foyer, frozen.
Mor turns to me. “It’s for the best,” she says.
“What did you take in return?” I ask, thinking of her bloody teeth.
She huffs out a small laugh. “Only a molar. The bargain itself seemed punishment enough. But you’ll find another girl of the week and Bram will be happy. It’s a win-win situation as far as I’m concerned.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You always win.”
She walks back into the palace, and I follow her up the stairs to our respective quarters. She pauses at the top and shrewdly sizes me up with those uncanny eyes of hers. “I gave her the option to marry you.”
The fae can’t lie. I used to love that about them, but I hate knowing that she’s telling the truth.
Reckless, selfless Ivy. It only makes me love her more.
I don’t sleep for the next twenty-four hours.
I spend every waking minute in the library, pulling book after book off the shelf, hoping for some new clue, any message from my father.
It’s agonizing, like an infected wound, to know he’s under the same roof I am and we cannot speak. What will we do when the bargains are broken? I can only hope my father knows, because I do not.
I’ve never been this reckless before. I’m usually meticulous to leave no trace, lest the queen get wise to us, but I don’t care anymore. The shelves are mostly empty, and I’m standing in a sea of half-open books scattered around the library.
Finally, in a volume of medieval poetry, I find a series of faint pencil lines, each underneath a new letter.SOON.
I’ve only ever known love through codes and things half-said. Ivy says exactly what she’s thinking at all times. I wish I could be more like her, instead of constantly chewing at the ropes I’ve tied myself in.
SOON.
It has to be soon, or I’ll have lost her forever, and that’s not something I’m strong enough to bear.
I think of my father, somewhere in this same palace, but he feels farther away than ever. I can’t help but feel that I’m failing him, the mission, all of England. Ivy was only ever supposed to be a means to an end, not a weakness I couldn’t afford. But I know now, the thingabout love is that you don’t realize you’re in it until it’s too late.
The next day, Bram bursts into my room as I’m preparing for the ball at the Kendalls, I know I shouldn’t go. I should make the same excuses I always do and go drink until I can’t remember my own name at some shitty pub in the East End. I dismiss my valet as my brother walks in.
Bram sinks down into the chair across from me, his face tight with paternal worry. “Are you going to tell me why you asked your valet to collect your bank statements?”
“I should fire him for gossiping.”
“It’s not gossip, it’s valid concern.”
“You’re always encouraging me to be more responsible.”
Bram sighs. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on gambling it away.”
“You have to spend money to make money,” I reply with a smile I know will drive him up the wall.
“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.”
“I’m laughing.”
Bram passes me the stack of papers from the bank. A quick glance at the statements confirm what I suspected. My stipend from the Crown is basically zero, but I have enough inherited from my mother’s side of the family that I could take Ivy and me anywhere in the world and build her the kind of life she deserves, then leave the rest to her family.
I asked for the statements a week ago, but I was too late. Now I think I’ll go somewhere alone, somewhere I don’t have to see Ivy at Bram’s side every day.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of doing something stupid,” Bram grumbles.
“I’ve never done anything stupid in my whole entire life.” I grin, even though it hurts.
