Page 118 of The False Vow

Sitting up, I removed the damp cloth which I now noticed had been placed on my brow. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep, but my entire body still ached from the use of my Wit. The pain was duller now, an iron pang nestled within my bones. “How do you know?” I asked.

Anais frowned. “What?”

“How do you know”—I coughed, my voice a croak—“that he’s alive?” I finished.

Clarity rippled across the other silkwitch’s expression. Leaning back on her stool, she nodded toward the far corner of the room—where, I now processed, a second figure was seated. “Oh,” Anais said dismissively. “She saw it.”

I turned on my pillows. Curled in an armchair, her knees tucked primly beneath her, was a pale-skinned, diminutive girl, undoubtedly the owner of the other voice I’d heard. Her blond hair gleamed in the sunlight, piled in a messy knot and secured with a silver comb atop her head. Still, her eyes were her most distinctive feature: so large they threatened to usurp the rest of her face.

An exhale slipped from my lungs. The plethora of mirrors in the room suddenly made perfect sense. “Marie-Louise.”

The Owl smiled at me. “Hello, friend.”

A knot of emotion caught in my throat. How long had it been since I’d last seen the other witch? Weeks, at least—since the day I’d called to ask for her recommendations on which of my bridesmaids to interrogate. I’d meant to follow up with her afterward, but between the other silkwitches’ threats on my life and the challenge of solving Sybil’s murder, and all that had passed between me and Noé…I’d simply forgotten.

My heart squeezed. Until now, I hadn’t realized how desperately I’d missed her.

Blinking rapidly, I addressed Anais again. “How did you know to go to her?” I didn’t think the fair-haired silkwitch was aware of my friendship with the Owl. Our interactions during the Vainglory had been rare, and Bastian had rescinded Marie-Louise’s invitation to be a bridesmaid after the silkwitch had refused his offer to kill me, meaning she hadn’t been around in recent weeks, either. Had Anais guessed at our closeness?

But the other girl shook her head. “Marie-Louise came to us,” she corrected. “Through the mirror in the hotel room you brought us to—frightened Manon half to death. Her husband’s men brought us here from the Isle.” Wrinkling her nose, she frowned at me. “You snore in your sleep, by the way. And kick.”

I paid her criticisms no heed. Through the mirror. I hadn’t realized the Owl could travel via looking glasses as well as peer through them—impressive. I dwelled on the notion for only a moment before another one of Anais’s words struck me. “Husband?”

Alarmed, I glanced toward Marie-Louise. As though sensing the path of my thoughts, the other girl shook her head, amused. “It is all right,” she said soothingly. “Cyril knows the truth about our kind and his. He did not bind me.”

He wed her, but he did not bind her? The two concepts did not follow. “Why not?”

The Owl shrugged. “We considered it and decided we did not wish to do it that way.”

She stated it as if it were obvious—the most natural thing in the world. We…decided we did not wish to do it that way. I nearly laughed. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized it could be that easy? That all my striving, all my scheming aside…

Perhaps change could be as simple as two people agreeing to make it.

On the stool next to me, Anais crossed her arms. The motion drew me back to her, reminded me of the promise I’d made, to warn her of the origin of the Weavers’ powers before her own marriage to Adélard. I hadn’t gotten the chance to before our feast descended into chaos; was now the time?

At my notice, the other silkwitch rolled her eyes. “The Owl already told me the truth,” she said in a dry tone. “No need to enlighten me.”

Had she? I turned toward Marie-Louise. “All of it?”

The Owl nodded. “She and Miss Blanc had questions after I arrived through the mirror,” she replied. “It seemed easiest to start from the beginning.”

Of course they would have. Both Marie-Louise and I had displayed powers which vastly exceeded the supposed limits of our Wits—if I were Anais or Manon, I would have been curious, too. “How long have you known?” Anais asked me.

“Since the end of the Vainglory,” I answered honestly. “It’s why I wanted to speak with you before your wedding day.”

Anais’s mouth twitched. I wasn’t sure what had prompted the reaction until she shifted in her chair and said, “That was…kind of you.” She cleared her throat. “To consider me.”

Her expression was soft. Noise in the corridor prevented me from replying. Without warning, the door to the bedroom swung open, revealing two additional people beyond it. Manon’s eyes widened as she stepped over the threshold, pupils swollen behind the thick lenses of her spectacles. “Miss Tamerlane! You’ve woken?” Her gaze flicked to Anais, softened. “You’ve been tending to her?”

Anais had perked up at the other silkwitch’s entrance. She leaned in to the sound of Manon’s voice, all sweetness. “As best I can.”

The tenderness in her tone, as well as the flush which colored Manon’s cheeks at her reply, told me all I needed to know about the state of their relationship. I turned my chin away, my eyes landing on the second person in the doorway. Unlike Manon, he was a stranger: a young man, reedy and tan-skinned, with a crop of dark hair and expressive, hooded eyes. By the plain gold band on his ring finger, as well as the way Marie-Louise’s entire face shone at his appearance, I assumed this was Cyril.

As if in confirmation, he bowed. “Miss Tamerlane,” he said. His voice was crisp and matter-of-fact. “My wife has told me much about you. Long have I desired to meet the girl she has titled her closest friend.”

She was still calling me that, was she? The term did not bother me as much as it used to. Nodding, I replied to him. “And I, you, sir. I see congratulations are in order.”

“Ah, yes.” Cyril’s countenance brightened at my mention of his union. Crossing to Marie-Louise, he laid his hands on her shoulders, peering affectionately down at her. “Am I not fortunate? Is she not the most stunning creature you have ever encountered?”