Page 6 of The Scarlet Veil

Well, Beau’s half brother—and my first love.

My mouth nearly falls open at the sight of them. Once upon a time, I would’ve regarded each with suspicion and fear—especiallyReid—but the Battle of Cesarine changed all of that. As if readingmy thoughts, he lifts his hand in an awkward wave. “I told them we should’ve sent up a note first.”

Of all the group, Reid alone remains without a formal title, but his reputation as the youngest-ever captain of the Chasseurs still precedes him. Of course, that was a long time ago. Before the battle. Before he found his siblings.

Before he discovered his magic.

My smile, however, isn’t forced at all now. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’swonderfulto see everyone.”

“Likewise.” Swooping to kiss my cheek, Coco adds, “As long as you forbid Beau from telling tales of his previous exploits. Trust me, he would be theonlyone who likes them.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Lou stands on tiptoe to kiss my other cheek, and I cannot help it—instinctively, I engulf them both in a bone-crushing hug. “I quite enjoyed hearing about his rendezvous with the psellismophiliac,” she finishes in a muffled voice.

Overwhelming warmth spreads from my chest to my extremities as I release them, as Beau scowls and flicks the back of Lou’s head. “I never should’ve told you about him.”

“No.” She cackles with glee. “You shouldn’t have.”

They all turn to me then.

Though arguably four of the most powerful people in the entire kingdom—if notthemost powerful—they stand in the cramped corridor outside my room as if—as if waiting for me to speak. I stare back at them for several clumsy seconds, unsure what to say. Because they’ve never visited meherebefore. The Church rarely allows visitors into Chasseur Tower, and Lou, Coco, and Reid—they have better reason than most to never step through our doors again.

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.

Though Jean Luc did his best to remove the hateful words after the Battle of Cesarine, their faint imprint still darkens the entrance to the dormitories. My brethren once lived by that scripture.

Lou, Reid, and Coco almost burned for it.

Nonplussed, I finally open my mouth to ask, “Would you like to come in?” just as the bell of Cathédral Saint-Cécile d’Cesarine tolls around us. That warmth in my chest only builds at the sound, and I beam at the four of them in equal measure. No. Thefiveof them. Though Jean Luc glares at everyone in silent disapproval, he must’ve been the one to invite them, even if it meant skipping Mass. When the bell falls silent at last, I ask, “Am I correct in assuming no one plans to attend the service this evening?”

Coco smirks back at me. “We’ve all caught a chill, it seems.”

“And we know just how to treat it.” Winking, Lou withdraws a paper bag from her cloak and holds it aloft, shaking its contents with evident pride. PAN’S PATISSERIE gleams in bright golden letters beneath her fingers, and the heady scents of vanilla and cinnamon engulf the corridor. My mouth waters when Lou plucks a sticky bun from the bag and presses it into my hand. “They work rather well for a shitty day too.”

“Language, Lou.” Reid shoots her a sharp look. “We’re still in a church.”

In his own hands, he holds a pretty bouquet of chrysanthemums and pansies wrapped in pink ribbon. When I catch his gaze, he shakes his head with a small, exasperated smile and offers it to me over Coco’s shoulder. Clearing his throat, he says, “You still like pink, right?”

“Who doesn’t like pink?” Lou asks at the same time as Cocopulls a deck of cards from her scarlet cloak.

“Everyone likes pink,” she agrees.

“Idon’t like pink.” Unwilling to be outdone, Beau presents with a flourish the bottle of wine he held hidden behind his back. “Now, pick your poison, Célie. Will it be the pastries, the cards, or the wine?”

“Why not all three?” Dark eyes sparkling with wicked humor, Coco knocks his bottle away with her cards. “And how do you explain the pillow on your bed if you don’t like pink, Your Majesty?”

Undeterred, Beau forces her cards aside with the neck of his bottle. “My little sister embroidered that pillow for me, as you know very well.” To me, he adds grudgingly, “And all threehavebeen known to cure a soul ache.”

A soul ache.

“That,” I say ruefully, “is a lovely phrase.”

Bristling, Jean Luc steps forward at last to seize both the deck of cards and the bottle of wine before I can choose either one. “Have you all gone mad? I didn’t invite you up here togambleanddrink—”

Coco rolls her eyes. “Are they not drinking wine downstairs at this very moment?”

Jean Luc scowls at her. “It’s different, and you know it.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Captain,” she says in her sweetest voice. Then she turns to me, gestures toward the confiscated cards and wine, and adds, “Consider this a prelude to your birthday festivities, Célie.”

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