Guards herd us away before we can say another word.
“I’m sorry!” I call to Marion and Faith, but I don’t know if they hear me. I’m knocked unconscious as soon as I step down from the platform.
Chapter Twelve
I wake up some time later, groggy, with the distinct, bone-rattled feeling of having gone on a long journey.
“Hello?” My voice is raspy and dry. I swallow and it hurts. “Lydia?” I try again. I can scarcely breathe. The corset hasn’t loosened and it’s squeezing my ribs with bruising pressure. The walls around me spin, and the inability to take a full breath is only making my panic worse. My vision goes spotty around the edges and the floor seems to sway beneath me.
I try to slip the tips of my fingers under the boning at my waist, to give myself more breathing room, but it’s simply too tight.
My vision darkens.
I’m going to be so angry if I’m killed via suffocation by corset. What a profoundly stupid way to die.
The doors swing open and I blink against the sudden light. It’s only now that I realize I’m in a carriage of some sort. No,carriageisn’t the right word. A prison cell on wheels is more apt. Paneled in dark wood, with only a single hard bench to sit on, the transport vehicle is completely windowless. It’s like they wanted it to feel as much like a tomb as possible.
A shadowy figure jumps in with me, the light glinting off a blade in his hand.
“No—” I pop upright and raise my fists.
He thrusts the knife toward me.
“Please—”
“Stop moving,” the figure commands, barely above a whisper, and I recognize that voice.
“Are you going to stab me?” I ask him the same question he once asked me in a carriage a long, long time ago, but he doesn’t laugh.
“Bloody corset,” Emmett mutters. “It’s enchanted to squeeze tighter every time you lie, and you did quite a lot of lying back there.”
In one fluid motion he pulls my gown off over my head, then uses his knife to split open the corset laces up my back. The metal tip is cool as it just barely grazes my spine.
A parallel moment flashes through my head. A rainy inn. Emmett’s low voice sayingI know my way around a corset.
I heave in a full breath, my limbs tingling as the oxygen reaches my bloodstream.
“Thank you,” I gasp.
Emmett’s eyes graze down my body, now in nothing but a translucent chemise. Just as quickly, he glances away and bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that it looks like it hurts.
Hastily, Emmett helps me back into my dress. Then he scoops the ruined corset up off the floor and hides it in the storage compartment under the seat.
It’s only then that Emmett finally looks me in the eyes.
I open my mouth to say something, but there are so many questions raging in my head that I don’t know where to begin.
Emmett looks pained. His brows are knitted, his lips pressed together, his hazel eyes alight with flame. His eyes flit from my mouth to my eyes, then back to my mouth.
The clatter of carriage wheels outside startles us both.
“I wasn’t here,” Emmett says in a rush, and then disappears out of the carriage and shuts the door.
A few minutes later, the silhouette of a man darkens the open carriage door. “C’mon, up with you.” The faerie guard’s harsh voice is in direct contrast with his angelic features. I’m quickly learning that’s what the Otherworld is—cruelty cloaked in heart-wrenching beauty.
I’m once again tempted to run, but I know I have no choice but to go out and face whatever awaits me. If not for my friends, then for my sister.
I pointedly ignore the guard’s outstretched hand as I hop down from the carriage. The delicate silk slippers I put on this morning crunch into a thick layer of underbrush.
