Page 74 of Ruling Destiny

Taking something horrible and turning it into something beautiful, meaningful—it’s the perfect symbol for the sort of alchemy I’ve learned at this school.

“The only difference is mine was pink,” I remind him.

“And made of plastic,” Mason says.

“Do you like it?” I watch as he slides it onto his finger—it’s a perfect fit, just as I’d hoped. “I would’ve given you a tiara, but a talisman needs to be a little more discreet.”

Mason glances between the ring and me. “It’s perfect. I’ll wear it every day.”

“The important thing is that you bring it with you when you Trip.”

“Yes, Mom.” Mason laughs.

I grin in return, but it’s quick to fade. As excited as I am to be heading off to Italy, it’s shadowed by the truth that every Trip carries its own inherent risk—every goodbye here at Gray Wolf could well be the last.

“I know this isn’t the life you chose.” My gaze locks on his. “And if there was any way I could get you back home, I would. But I just wanted you to know that you’re still my best friend. For me, that was never in question.”

Mason pauses, and honestly, I’m not sure what to expect. But when he leans in and hugs me, for a handful of seconds, it feels like all is forgiven.

“Arrivederci,”he whispers into my ear.

“Buona notte,” I whisper back, erasing the tears from my cheek.

It’s not until I’m inside my room that I realize I should probably find a place to stash the perfume, the note, and the gold pocket watch while I’m gone.

Not that there’s a good hiding place, because if someone is determined to find it, they will. Still, there’s no point leaving it out in the open. I can at least make them work for it.

So, after slipping the note inside a pair of boots, I hide the perfume and the pocket watch on top of the canopy of fabric that hangs over my bed, positioning it close to the post so that the dip in the fabric is kept to a minimum.

It’s not until I’m washing my face and getting ready for bed that I notice the lingering scent of perfume still on my fingers.

And that’s when I realize it’s the exact same scent I smelled on Finn.

42

Surprisingly, I must’ve slept well, because it’s not until I hear the incoming chime of Mozart’s “Turkish March” that I finally rouse myself from bed.

I thought for sure I’d spend the bulk of the night tossing and turning with the usual nerves that come before any Trip. Never mind all the nagging worries about Finn’s possible connection to the Niki de Saint Phalle perfume.

But when my slab chimes with the inspirational quote of the day, I know that particular mystery, and all the others as well, will have to hold until my return.

I reach toward my nightstand and squint at my slab.

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and

love the people with whom fate brings you together,

but do so with all your heart. – Marcus Aurelius

Wise words from Arthur’s favorite Roman emperor.

A moment later, there’s a knock at my door. Knowing my breakfast is being delivered, as per usual on Trip days, I rush to open it, only to find Freya standing there, coppery curls twisted into a bun, her uniform freshly starched and pressed. She holds a silver tray in her hands.

My stomach drops. She’s pretty much the last person I want to see.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

She nods toward the tray. “I was told to bring you your breakfast.”

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