Page 94 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“They’re afraid,” Julia clarified.
“Of me? Because of this thing on my back? Do they think I’m a monster now?”
“No,” Julia answered. “And you arenota monster. It’s your absence, hiding away in here. They wonder what you’re doing. They wonder what you’ve become. Rumors are cruel, and they’re imagining the worst.”
“They’re not used to battle so close to home,” Hollis added. “The attack left nerves raw.”
Bristol bit off a corner of her lemon popover. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one reeling from sudden changes. She swallowed. “Then I guess I should attend the festivities tonight. To put their minds at ease.” But the thought of being under scrutiny immediately made the popover stick in her throat.
“You’re going to stay?” Rose said, her long lashes casting a shadow under her eyes. The others waited for her answer too.
She was either fully in or she wasn’t. She took a sip of sparkling wine to wash down the popover. And then chugged back another long drink. She licked the sweetness from her lips. “I made a promise just like the rest of you. I never planned to leave until our goal was accomplished.”
She would stay and see this out, not to mention there were now even more answers she needed from her father, and she was going to get them—one way or another.
“Yes,” she answered. “I am absolutely staying.”
CHAPTER 65
Bristol had promised to meet the others at Sun Court as soon as dusk rolled in, but now it was well past dark. She had fussed over her dress, her hair, even the hollows of her cheeks that she feared made her look more sinister.They’re imagining the worst.
She ate more food, but of course that wouldn’t instantly fill out the few pounds she had lost. The fox sulked nearby as she ate the last stuffed fig. She changed her dress three times, nothing improving the sharpness of her cheekbones, and finally settled on a pale blue chiffon dress with lacy sleeves of swirling flowers. It was the cheeriest dress in her wardrobe, a piece of spun confection plucked from the sky. Surely it could dispel the whispers. She was not a monster.
And if she was, she was no more a monster than any of them.
She glanced at her hands, now glamoured to look as they had before.
The others had given her a quick tutorial on glamour when she hesitated because of her nailbeds. “Glamour’s easy,” Julia promised. “We can teach you in ten minutes.” She said she used glamour all the time in the mortal world to transform her cat eyes, and Sashka explained how she would change her butterfly-blue skin to a nice warm brown.
“Once you get the hang of it, it becomes second nature,” Julia said. “You’ll hardly have to think about it. The power is inside you. You just have to bring it to the surface.” They made her stand up, and Julia touched her finger just under Bristol’s chin, lifting it slightly. “Think about how you want your nails to look. Now pull back your shoulders and settle into your hips, your ribs. Feel the weight. Own what’s inside you. Every inch of it. Breathe deeply. Now focus your eyes a hundred miles away, a hundred years away.”
“Focus through my chamber wall?”
“Yes,” Hollis answered. “It’s not a place you’re seeing, but a distance. You own all that space from here to there. Breathe in and believe it. Say the wordsmahr credeigm, and let the power inside you do the work.”
Bristol thought she was getting more of a poise tutorial than anything magical, but she did as they said, walking around her room, chin up, her eyes focused a hundred miles away, ages away, seeing highways and landscapes and time blur past her, the nameless towns, motels, missed chances, and meadows that shaped her for better or worse, and she owned it all—instead of the shadows owning her. When she looked at her hands, she was stunned—they appeared the way they used to look. In her shock, they reverted back, but after a few more tries, she was able to maintain it. They were right, the deception of simple glamours was frightfully easy. That was how her mother had done it for all those years.
“Not many can see through it, unless they really make an effort, usually with an incantation,” Avery said.
“But that’s considered quite rude, like peeking up someone’s dress,” Julia added.
Now, with dress, hair, and even glamour in place, Bristol still found herself pacing the floor, reluctant to leave.He just returned this morning.Now that Tyghan was back, would he come looking for her? But it was late now, and he still hadn’t come. She remembered when she lifted her shirt on the foot trail, the gasps, the curses.
Was he as repulsed by the tick as the rest of them? “Of course he was,” she whispered. Who wouldn’t be? She lifted the skirt of her dress and slid her palm across her lower back. She wasn’t able to bring herself to look at the dark stain again, the twisted legs and body that pulsed in time with her own heartbeat, but her skin was smooth beneath her fingertips. She swallowed, forcing down the woozy sensation, and tried to imagine the tick wasn’t there at all.
She skimmed her wardrobe again, eyeing the cloak Esmee gave her—an invisibility cloak similar to the one Kasta placed on her shoulders for their ride here. While invisibility could be practiced and learned by most fae, for those with mortal blood in them, invisibility was not always possible. Suddenly, becoming invisible was the most important thing in the world, and she desperately wanted to wear the cloak to the festivities, but being seen was the whole point. She closed the wardrobe door before she changed her mind.
She walked out the door, her head held high, focusing on her destination at Sun Court, but she only made it as far as the upper gallery that bordered it. When the first few heads turned her way, she couldn’t bring herself to walk down the grand staircase, and slipped into a dark alcove instead. Only for a few minutes, she promised herself. She checked her hands. Two of her nails had reverted. She tried to focus a thousand miles away, to a lifetime ago when she was just Bristol Keats, part-time student, part-time assistant manager, full-time sister trying to keep her family together.You are the strong one.For tonight at least, she would believe it. When she looked back down, the sharp blue moons were gone, and her attention jumped back to the revelers below. There was something different about them tonight.
A current of uneasiness ran beneath the gaiety of swishing satins and tinkling crystal. It flowed just under the laughter, the dancing, and the arrogance. These powerful beings were afraid, the kind of fear that could never be admitted. It was disturbingly familiar to her, pricking memories of her parents rushing to pack up, her father’s foot pressing steadily on the gas pedal as miles sped past them in a desperate blur. She saw it all differently now. How hard it must have been for them to run with three children in tow, to tack on smiles, pack favorite snacks for the road, keep their voices light. But the lightness always had an edge, the sun catching it like broken glass. That’s what she saw now, an undercurrent of broken glass beneath the merriment. Was it because of the attack on the city—or because ofher?
Now she had to force herself to become part of it, smiling, dancing, and using a shimmering dress to cover all the broken pieces inside her that they might see.
“Finally emerging from your dark cave, I see.”
She swept her hands behind her back. Reuben came out of nowhere, like he’d been stalking her.
“Hiding something, Miss Keats?” he taunted, blocking her escape.
