“No, I love you because you are powerful.” He kissed my cheek. “Your disregard for someone else’s rules proved you could hold your own as the Duchess.”
He plucked a low note that reverberated in my chest. “Besides the practical aspect…every time I remembered that sly little smirk of yours, my heart fluttered. Thinking of another boy holding your hand made me feel sick. I dreamed of you nearly every night.”
I slammed my eyes shut to stop the incoming tears as the claws of guilt shredded me from the inside. I had lied to Derrick fornothing.
“I only learned romantic lines to match yours,” Derrick said with a hollow mirth. “I just wanted to impress you. Sure, the Selection Night choice was mine, but I wanted something no Duke of Lycaster had for generations…”
A tear rolled onto my lashes as the music swelled.
“…I wanted a wife who was in love with me.”
The sob that rattled out of me was a sour note in Derrick’s melody.
He set the harp down and placed his hand on my cheek. He wiped my tear away with his thumb. “I know. None of this is fair.”
I shook my head. Nothing was fair because the world was cruel and so was I.
He had no idea how much I had used him.
Derrick gave me another sorrowful smile as he wiped away another tear. “Midnight just wanted to be with Birdie.”
Midnight and Birdie—our code names in our letters. We had both played roles, sending romantic fluff back and forth. Though underneath the syrupy prose and coy banter of Midnight and Birdie, there was still Derrick and Serafina.
And Derrick loved Serafina—sneaky, wicked, and powerful as she was.
The white flame seeped through my chest, forcing up every ounce of my shame, my sorrow, and my guilt until I could not hold back.
Isthiswhat my magic was compelling me to do? Purge my guilt?
“I hate this,” I sobbed, wiping away a tear with the back of my hand. “I hate what I have done.”
Derrick’s eyes glistened. “Do not be ashamed of what happened at the ball. I…I know what it is like to wake up confused and sick, but none of it was your fault.”
Even after all my manipulation, he was still only concerned for me. I was worse than a snake.
“I embarrassed myself,” he said, “and my father will see to it that I mend my reputation in front of the Barons.” Revulsion dripped off his words. “I would rather cut off my own hand thango to the Darkest Night tomorrow. I do not know if he will sneak more Cupid’s Blood into my drink and let that monster loose on the crowd or if he will force me to fuck your mother while everyone watches.”
My stomach turned. “Cupid’s Blood?”
Derrick swallowed and looked away. “The potion that forces you to forget everything you are and fixate on only one thing. I have retched it up enough times to be very familiar with it.”
He leaned away from me, his eyes still downcast. “Ever since…what almost happened to Brietta the other night, I am too scared to even eat or drink anything.”
I turned toward him as much as I could with how close we already were. “Derrick…you have not eaten in four days?”
He shook his head, but still refused to look at me. “I cannot do it. Even still, Father could still trap me and force something down my throat like he did on my birthday. I can donothingabout it.”
The fear and anger that cut through his voice made my skin crawl.
“I will go with you,” I blurted out. “I will go to the Darkest Night with you.”
Derrick had said my letters had made him brave. If I could just give Derrick that small bit of security back, a small amount of his power back…maybe I could start to heal the wounds guilt left within me.
The white light brightened in my chest and I followed its energy.
“It might be a masked ball, but you will find me,” I said as the fire swelled within my soul. “Look for the Midnight Dream dress.”
Derrick lifted his eyes and a small smile flicked up his cheek. “I would know you even in a mask, Serafina.”
