She nods and enters, taking in the rumpled blanket on the couch, the empty whiskey glass on the side table, and last night’s dinner that still sits untouched atop my desk.
She moves that tray aside and puts down the new one. I turn back to the window.
“You have to eat,” she murmurs.
“I will when I’m hungry,” I grumble.
Ophelia’s steps are fae-silent as she walks back to exit the room. I feel the shift in energy before she pauses at the door.
When I glance over, she’s staring out the same window that I am, watching the smoke trickle to the heavens.
“Majesty, I know it’s not my place, but…” Her gaze slashes to the open rectangular box sitting atop my desk. The golden rose, still perfectly red, sits inside, waiting to be taken by someone. “I know you may not want to hear this, but I don’t think Miss Thornrose planned for what happened at the fire ceremony.”
I grind my next words to dust. “Then what do you think she meant, Ophelia?”
She fidgets briefly before clearing her throat and gaining the courage to go on. “I can’t imagine that she would ever have hurt you, and may I say that when she was here, you were, for the first time since I’ve known you, happier than you’ve ever been. Not that you weren’t happy with the late queen. You were. But with Miss Thornrose there was a lightness to you that I’d never seen before. And for what it’s worth, the night of the solstice was the happiest that I’d ever seen both of you.”
Her words make my throat dry.
“She loved you very much,” Ophelia adds.
And it’s those words that cause a shift in me, that make my heart tighten so hard it might explode.
Addison loved me? I rip my fingers through my hair. Of course she loved me. She got her magic the night of the solstice when I all but told her that I loved her. And I did love her. It’s a lie to deny it.
The floor falls out from under my feet.
What have I done?
I’ve taken everything from her family, and I did it all because I couldn’t let go. For so long I’ve held on to my anger, and now I’ve got my revenge. The bookshop’s burned to the ground, never to be reopened.
And how do I feel about it?
Even worse.
Ophelia’s right. With Addison, Iwasdifferent. I was, dare I even think it—happy. I was able to push thoughts of Tess aside and let them go. Fury didn’t have the same stranglehold on me that it used to.
But I gave all that up. For what?
Because she betrayed me, I remind myself.
“I’ll go,” Ophelia says.
She leaves, and the only sound is the crackling of the fire.
Until it isn’t.
“Oh my goodness, you don’t know how long it’s taken me to figure out how to get into this thing. Ugh. I thought three lifetimes might pass before I got out of that stupid compact and into a more suitable mirror.”
I’m staring at the one mirror in my study, and the reflection isn’t occupied by me. There’s a man in there—a man with a white pompadour that’s almost a foot high.
Am I imagining this? “Who are you?”
The image clears his throat and grabs the lapels of his jacket. “My name’s Elmore, and I’m a friend of Addison’s.”
I cock my brow. “A friend?”
“Yes, a friend. Someone you need to talk to.”
