“Hai,he will. Otherwise, he loses me.”
At the quizzical lift of my brow, she raises her left hand and pointedly slides off her enormous black diamond ring shaped like a crown. The message is loud and clear. If Papa doesn’t free me from the bonds of his succession and let me leave the underworld behind—ifthat’s what I want—the love of his life will leavehimbehind.
“Mama,” I breathe, my vision blurring as she slides the ring back on. “Papa iseverythingto you. You’re soulmates. You can’t—”
“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do.” Her chin lifts as she shifts her fierce gaze to the sea. “I have already sworn it upon the stars, and so it shall be done should the time come.”
“I don’t know what to say. This is…unexpected.”
“Your father has seen the changes in you since this disaster began. I’ve seen those same changes since you abandoned your dreams.”
I swallow the burn in my throat. “Arigato.”
Mama kisses her fingertips and settles them on my dragon tattoo inspired by hers. “Please, darling, don’t thank me for this. I’m your mother. Loving you isn’t a duty. It’s a privilege and an honor. Forgive me for forgetting that.”
I clamp my lips to hide their quake. “Daisuki da yo,Mama.”
I don’t remember the last time I said that. Probably when I was still writing fairytales.
Mama wraps her arm like a wing around my shoulders, tucking me into her side. She smells like incense and honey, bitter and sweet. A perfect mirror of her soul.
“I love you more,” she whispers, kissing the crown of my head, “my little Poppyseed.”
TRAGEDY
Brontë
“I’m fine, Brontë.” Poppy sighs in my ear as I suture the throat of a woman who swallowed swords for a living and slid her last one down the wrong hole. “For the thousandth time, there’s no need to worry.”
For days, she’s been recovering from an infection in her healing wound. Her fever broke this morning, but my mind won’t stop replaying the night she was stabbed. I should be with her, not working yet another graveyard weekend that was dumped onto me at the last minute when my colleague called off sick.
“Just take it easy,Petit Diable.”
“Sooo,don’t fuck myself while you’re not here?”
A burst of irrational envy blasts through me. “You arewhat?”
“Mm, anger. Would it help to know it’syouI’m thinking of?”
“Poppy,” I growl, seconds from crushing my phone. “Your body needs rest.”
“I’m tired of resting.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Ugh,fuck you. I’m not a brat.”
“Lie.”
“Just for that, I’m grabbing my enormous, scaly, purple dragon dildo hidden in the coffee table you’ve used a thousand times without opening.Au revoir!”
“Wait, wha—”
Click.
I sigh down at the corpse. “Areyoutired of resting?”
The cadaver remains peacefully still.
