“He was big into the arts back then and was enthralled by magic. Something he never could get to conform to his will. So he befriended our family. People like to be close to our world. But it takes much to be in it.”
Grandmom faces me, scorn and question burned into her expression.
“I don’t know that he would have had the stomach to induct. Too weak. Their monarchy fell at his hand, you know?” She runs her fingers across the pile of rubble and its ashes stir, as if unsettled by a gust of wind. She pulls back on the pile with her fingers, and the broken pieces of the dresser cinch back together, shedding their blackened finish for its former gilded veneer.
I gasp.
“I keep it here as a reminder.” A knob that had rolled across the room snaps to the dresser and it sits perfect as if it had never been destroyed. “Kings can be brave; they can do wonderful things. Beautiful things. And yet their monarchy can still fall. Their legacy moving on without them.” She glimpses herself in the mirror, which has re-formed as well. “A hundred years from now, House of Marionne will be more than fancy dressers and gilded ballrooms.”
She steps toward me.
I don’t step back.
“Running the Order isn’t unlike running a kingdom. You do what you must for the greater good. And in this case, that is our family. Our bloodline. The future of this House. Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
She’s unmoved and turns away from me.
“Which is why binding to the House with the tether is so important,” I say, hoping to dent her doubt.
That swivels her head around.
“It ensures my loyalty is unwavering, that I’m committed to serve this House, whatever comes.”
She folds her arms.
“If I am in this, I am in it all the way.”
“Then prove it. Give me your key chain. Rhea would never accept you grafting yourself into this world. You have to let this dream of her and you go. If you’re in this, as you say . . .” She holds out her hand. This I didn’t expect.
If I do this, I have no way to communicate with Mom. But it would seal Grandmom’s trust that I mean what I say.
“Well?”
“Yes, of course, Grandmom.” I dig the key chain out of my pocket. There has to be some other way to find Mom when I leave this horrid place. I set it in her hand, and she turns it to dust in an instant.
A piece of me fractures. I hope that wasn’t the wrong decision.
“Very well.” Her chin rises. “That dresser was fortified with protection magic. Your toushana is untrained, but it runs strong in you. It might give you a fight on that stage. Your heart must be sure or it’ll turn to metal. You must be resilient and resist hard. While maintaining poise. No one must know what you’re battling.”
“I understand,” I tell her. “I can do this.”
“I hope you can see how much I love you, Quell.”
“And I am so grateful.” I slide my foot behind the other, one knee inside the other, and fold in a perfect curtsy.
Grandmom opens the door. “You should get yourself some proper rest. Cotillion is tomorrow. I expect you in my room by six a.m. Do not make me have to come to find you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She slips on a ring from a desk drawer. Then smooths her hands over my face, beneath my eyes, and over my hair, and nausea rises in my throat at her touch. “Now run along.”
I pass a mirror and glimpse her Shifting handiwork, her gift for hiding the truth. Looking at me you’d never know I’d spent days locked away crying my eyes out.
It’s late evening and most are in bed as I hurry down the hall to my room. I offer a plastic “Good evening” to a handful of onlookers. Some ask where I’ve been, to which I just smile. Inside my room I bar the door closed. The minute I leave here, I don’t know how long I’ll have before Grandmom outs my toushana to the Dragunhead. I have to find Mom fast.
And I’m going to need help.