Page 48 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“No,” she says.

“I can do?—”

“I said no!” Her head drops into her hands with a groan.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Desdemona sighs. “Yes.” She looks over her shoulder, out past the sea. “Is it windy, do you think?”

“Faintly, I suppose.”

“Right, well,” she scratches her ear, “I don’t think fires and wind go together well. Maybe we could revisit this?”

“I’m not convinced that will be a problem.”

What if Lusia gets to her before I can? Desdemona is the path to revenge. I have to take it before I lose it.

“Maybe it’s for the better,” she finally answers.

“And your mother?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“Do you think that being weak will bode better for your mother?”

Desdemona stomps in my direction. “You don’t know anything about?—”

“I know she’s somewhere you aren’t able to get to. That even if you do find where there’s nothing you can do because you’re weak.”

Inches away from me, she stops, sneering. “Do you really think I give a damn what you think, Prince?”

“Yes,” I say. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so flushed.”

“Maybe I’m just warming up.”

“By all means,” I say, raising my hands. “Try to burn me.”

She scoffs, a sound akin to a laugh, yet starkly devoid of humor. “We’re done here.”

“Perhaps we are. Normally when I court the Folk I choose the ones with more… pleasant features.”

She turns back to me. Perfect. “You think I’m here for you?”

“I do own a mirror.”

“I am here for my mother,” she speaks through gritted teeth.

“And what will she say when she sees you quitting? That you’re living up to the family expectations?”

“What?”

“That you’re going to die, darling,” I say with a smile. “How else could I say it? That you’re a failure, perhaps?”

Desdemona’s eyes glow a magnificent orange. I put my hands on her shoulders and twist her around, whispering in her ear, “Tree.”

The bottom of the tree, where the trunk meets the grass, glows the same orange as her eyes. I can feel the heat from here. Desdemona looks from the fire to me. The emotion in her eyes is not the one I expected. She looks horrified.

Perhaps the powerless act has not been an act at all.

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