23
“Straighten up, Narcissa. You are slouching,” Mother said, circling me. The click of her heels echoed in the cavernous room.
We were in an empty ballroom. The space was lit by a soft pink glow. I looked down. A dress of scarlet satin drowned my body, glittering with rubies.
“The ball is tonight,” Mother continued. “You must dazzle. Stupefy. Entrance.”
She lifted my chin with her fan, staring at me with her hard, steely eyes. “Very good,” she murmured as I stood, frozen in perfect posture. My ribs were constricted as if Mother had tight-laced my corset. She only did that for the important balls, where our appearance mattered most. “You will rip the hearts out of every nobleman in the room.”
“But Mother,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I don’t want to.”
“What you want does not matter,” she barked. Her face softened when my eyes blurred with tears. “You are a vision, my dear. You will rise to greatness as I did at your age.” She stroked my cheek, pinching the flesh between her fingers. “Even more so, if I can help it.”
Mother released her hold, but kept her hands outstretched. I watched in horror as they became drenched in blood, splattering onto the marble tiles. The hem of my gown deepened into crimson.
“No.” I stumbled back. “I don’t want this.”
“You do not have a choice, Narcissa. We are bound by blood,” Mother said.
I ran as her words reverberated around the ballroom. The tiles slipped beneath my feet and disintegrated. I fell into my chambers at the palace, the walls and windows distorted. Amarante knelt before me as I carved my initials into the back of her hand, blood red.
I felt frozen in my own body, sickened as it performed such cruelty upon another.
“Cruelty is a weapon, dear girl,” Mother crooned into my ear. “Use it and no one will dare hurt you.”
“Stop!” I sobbed. “Stop it!”
Suddenly, I was left with nothing but darkness. Ice seized my limbs. I whirled around, grasping at nothing.
“M-Misty?” I called out, desperate for warmth.
I stumbled forward. A familiar alleyway materialized before me, crowded with wagons of decaying produce. The palace dumping grounds. A tiny kitten cowered between two heads of brown cabbage.
“Misty!” I reached out, but she hissed and darted away. My heart constricted. This wasn’t right. She was supposed to leap into my arms, then together we would go to the kitchens to sneak a piece of salmon.
We swore to be together forever.
But I was alone, surrounded by mildewy brick walls. I collapsed onto the rotting vegetables and wept.
Stop being dramatic. I’m here,a voice echoed.
The alleyway disappeared. Pillowy warmth enveloped the top of my head and whiskers tickled my cheek.
Sleep well, darling.
Then, it was blissfully quiet. No visions of Mother plagued me. Sounds of murmuring voices and rustling emerged occasionally from the lulling darkness. Someone brushed my hair back. A damp towel stroked my cheek, followed by a lingering brush of soft lips on my forehead. Cedar and spices hung in the air. The scent was familiar, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.
A door slammed faintly, followed by a woman’s voice.
I can’t believe you let her run off like that. What were you thinking?
I didn’t know she was going to put herself in danger,another voice responded. It was soft and deep and comforting. I wanted nothing more than to sink into it.
Of course, no one knew that! But you let her believe you thought the worst of her when that letter came.
But I never thought—
Has anyone told you, Your Highness, that you have a brick for a face?
