“No, Your Majesty, I do not intend to leave,” she said, smiling back at him. My heart ached. My lungs refused to fill.
King Léo’s eyes met with mine. “Who is this vexing you, my pearl? The servant you mentioned?”
The servant.Was that all I was to her?
“Yes, this is Lope.” She offered me a kind smile, melting away a bit of the frost between us. “All I want is for her to join me, yet”—her expression shuttered—“she does not seem to care for dancing.” Ofelia looked at me quietly once she finished speaking, some question in her eyes.
I imagined myself among the nobles, performing their silly, regimented dances while a portal to the Underworld existed undisturbed in the gardens. Even if it would make Ofelia smile, the image felt so dissonant that it made me squirm. “I—I—”
“There are plenty of other ladies who would love to partner with you,” the king interrupted, tipping her head forward to kiss her forehead. The king whispered something in her ear, and she shook her head adamantly.
Ofelia wiped a stray tear from her cheek, that strange, immovable smile still upon her face. “It’s fine, Father. I just need a minute longer.”
“As you wish.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a quasi-embrace. He raised a brow in my direction but didnot even deign to look at me, only at Ofelia. “Doesn’t my daughter look beautiful tonight, mademoiselle?”
She did. She was blossoming, thriving, glowing. My stomach tied itself in knots.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said, my voice dry and hoarse.
He patted her back in a quick farewell and then reentered the crowd, back toward the throne.
I had completely destroyed the conversation, but I could not quite determine how to correct things. I meekly touched a hand to my heart. “Forgive me—truly, I did not mean to vex you—”
“Yes, you did.” Her voice was so small, so defeated. “You came here to speak of monsters and villains and foes to battle. You don’t listen when I tell you we aresafe.” She gazed up at me, her brown eyes a warm glow against the gold and red around us. “Give me a sweet word. Tell me something kind. You have poetry running in your veins. You always have!”
If only she knew the sort of nonsense I’d written abouther. She wished for me to conjure beautiful words out of thin air. And what was I meant to say? My heart was beating the rhythm of the truth, and that is all I wanted to say to her,Danger,Shadows,gods,deception, but she wanted sweetness.
And now that she had asked for it, so suddenly, here in this ballroom, with beasts running wild outside... all my words dried up.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I—I can’t.”
Ofelia took a step back from me. There was a coldness in her eyes that convinced me, for the first time, that she really could be the king’s daughter.
“Then good night, mademoiselle,” she said. “I am going to dance until sunrise. I will try not to disturb you when I return.”
She turned on her heel, her red skirts flaring like a rose in bloom, and then wove back into the crowd.
I’d not felt a pain like this before.
Claws against my arms, the nick of a sword upon my cheek, air burning as it left my lungs in a dying breath—
What a fool I was.
A worse fool, too, because I loved her still.
17
Ofelia
My head was pounding when I woke, and sunlight burned bright against my eyelids. I pried my head from my pillow. The rose petals had fallen from my hair and lay scattered about my sheets. Somehow, I’d managed to fall asleep in my gown.
“Lope?” I asked groggily. “Gods, I’m a mess. Can you—”
I paused. The daybed was empty, neatly made. A sigh loosed from my lips. I loathed the feeling that there was something invisible and amiss between us. Like a story left unfinished. Even thoughshewas the one being so stubborn and gloomy. All I wanted was to embrace her and to hear her whisper,All is well.
I slipped out of my luxurious, soft bed. One of my feet was bare, and the other was covered in a yellow stocking, the garter still tied above my knee.
I glanced to the nightstand, where a small piece of paperhad been folded up. An elaborateOwas scrawled on the top. I quirked an eyebrow as I flipped open the note.