Page 150 of Castle of Nevers and Nightmares

“Buggers out there wouldn’t know beauty if it bit them on the bollocks.” Peggy herds them into a group hug, kissing them on the head. “You lot areallbeautiful.” She waves me over. “Come on, hun. You too.”

I join the hug, squeeze them tight, and vow that next time, I’ll be here to protect them. Lost in the feelings of bliss this friendship gives me, I almost miss my reflection in the mirror.

My ugliness is gone.

Chapter

Fifty-Two

WILLOW

We approach a commotion on the way to the House of Embers. A crowd has formed around the woodland path further down. Alfie’s red hair flashes amongst the gray uniforms. Tensing, I consider bypassing them altogether. But then his head swivels our way.

Instinctively, I step in front of the others. I’m unsure whether it’s my reflection, Fox’s whispered words when he thought I was asleep, or knowing I’m making a difference, but I feel at home in my skin for the first time in days. I feel like I used to when it was just Rory and me training in Nero’s garden. My muscles ache, but in a good way, the way they are meant to ache.

When Alfie arrives, his grin broadens when he takes in my face. He attempts to pull me aside, but I plant my feet. A flicker of confusion passes in his eyes, but he murmurs, “Lord Sylvanar is questioning everyone who went to B.A.R. after the Holly King’s feast.”

“Bar?”

He smiles tightly. “Burn After Reading.”

“Right.”

A part of me retains so much loyalty to him; I long for the naïve friendship of our youth. But this newer, scarred, andthicker part of me draws away from him. I search his face for a sign of his belief that I am a spoiled princess, but the same the same green-and-brown-flecked eyes peer back at me. It’s a marvel how some faces reveal every ounce of emotion, like Fox’s. But others use their faces as masks to hide twisted secrets and ugly lies.

Why does he want to marry me at all? Does he expect I’ll grow my powers back? That I’ll be his magical tool for world domination, just as Nero hoped I’d be for him?

Ultimately, I settle for asking, “How can anyone confess if they can’t remember?”

“He’s grilling everyone here, asking if they went, who they saw on the way, and when they exited the establishment.” He frowns. “You weren’t with us when we left. I was worried.”

“What’s the commotion?”

His jaw clenches, and then he steps aside. Exhibitors stand around a stone statue that wasn’t there last week. The statue’s broad-shouldered back faces us, frozen in his attempt to flee the Baleful Hunt. Half-glimpsed images from when he crashed into me confirm his identity.

Alfie glances at my face once more. “Lord Sylvanar’s son, Lord Milford, is missing.”

I tense. “Okay... so why are you warning me?”

“Willow,” he admonishes. “I know you can’t remember, but with your beauty returned, you obviously went to see him. He was well known to?—”

His gaze snags on something behind me. Geraldine stands a few feet back, eyeing my interaction with suspicion. But it’s the red charm Alfie noticed. Milford’s charm.Shit.

“Clever,” he praises me, tapping an almost identical charm on his Chaser chain. “Kill two birds with one charm. It’s good to see you’re finally getting with the program.”

Outrage consumes me. I can’t believe he thinks a night of socializing with his friends would make me someone who kills innocent people because it’s what’s expected of Shadows. Who is this man? Or the better question is, who am I? Because I’m certainly not the same person who kills on command anymore.

“Off to class!” Peablossom’s raised, shrill voice pierces the cold air as she approaches along the path. “Embrace the flutter, oh sweet mortal blooms.”

“See you in class.” I don’t wait for Alfie’s reply. I’m too busy racing down the path, dragging Geraldine with me, trying to find somewhere quiet to explain why she needs to return the charm I gifted her. It never occurred to me that Milford had a signature gemstone, but it makes perfect sense. Every House probably has a unique type or set. It’s how they send coded messages from Burn After Reading.

“What is he talking about, Willow?” Geraldine asks.

“Who?”

“Your Chaser friend.”

“He’s not my friend.” Not anymore.

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