Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(87)



Two more days. I’ll encourage larger orders with the false insinuation that I’ll be leaving for a honeymoon a few days after the wedding. That should take me well over my goal, and I’ll be gone before anyone knows it’s a lie.

That my life is a lie.

The night before my wedding, I’ll hack my way out—with Lord Aaron’s help, if necessary. I’ll escape via horseback if that’s what it takes. One can never trust technology not to fail at the most crucial moment. That leaves me almost exactly forty-eight hours to collect five hundred thousand euros. Once I might have thought such a task impossible.

Saber and I sit silently, fingers entwined, as the car moves smoothly down the road. Saber squeezes gently, and I look up to see that soft affection brimming in his eyes. I don’t call it love; it’s too difficult to think of it that way. Considering the past six months, the last thing I need or desire is a fiery, adventurous romance. Saber’s quiet steadiness has become more than a comfort—the way he reaches out to touch my hand at just the right moment is all the stability I have left. His simple presence, two steps behind my left shoulder as I go about my palace business, makes me stronger.

The car stops and Saber slides from the seat, reaching out a hand to assist me. The door of the dance studio opens, and for an instant we all don our masks—the haughty noblewoman, her scandalously handsome secretary, the subservient dance teacher. Closing the door behind us feels like closing out another world.

“Just pull it out. I’ll take care of stacking it,” Saber says as we kneel in front of Giovanni’s closet, one floor up, a few minutes later. “You’re obviously anxious—you head out, I’ll finish here and then join you.”

“Thank you,” I say, rising to my feet. I was hoping for an opportunity like this. I hurry down the stairs and pause for just a moment to thank Giovanni again, then pull my black cloak over my rose-colored silk gown before slipping out the back door.

I’m not there first, but it doesn’t appear Reginald’s been waiting long. “I’ll need ten vials this week,” I say softly.

“This week?” he asks, clearly finding humor in my words. I find none. “I thought you were leaving in two days.”

“Large orders in anticipation of my absence. For my supposed honeymoon.”

“Desperate, eh?”

“Certainly not,” I reply with a scoff. “But it can’t hurt to have some additional capital on hand in whatever new life you’ve prepared for me. The goal of five million is essentially met.”

“Essentially?”

I decline to dignify his taunt with a reaction. “I need you to be ready. My plan is to leave the palace on Friday night—well, technically early Saturday morning, say three a.m.-ish? I’ll need a dependable way to contact you.”

“Easy.” He hands me a small cell phone. It’s an archaic and clumsy device compared to the Lenses, and I wasn’t entirely sure they still existed. But I suppose they have their uses. Especially if you’re a criminal.

“My contact information’s already programmed in there. I’ll be ready.”

“Good, good.” I swallow hard, but I know this is the only chance I’m going to get. “Reginald, I want Saber.”

“A blind man could see that,” Reginald says, then guffaws at his own joke.

“I want to you to free him; send him with me.”

His face freezes. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“We both know you never actually expected me to raise the five million. And saying my Glitter sales at the palace have been outstanding is a gross understatement.” I raise an eyebrow. “My worth to you in the last few months more than justifies a small favor, in my opinion.”

He hawks low in his throat and spits on the ground. “That’s what I think of your opinion, missy. Saber belongs to me, and that’s that.”

“Be reasonable.”

“I’m always reasonable.”

I force myself to keep my voice calm. “I could attempt to offer you more money for him, but I’ve already given you something better. We both know how much you hate Sonoman-Versailles; I’ve handed you the power to make another five million off them with utter ease. Or contact the authorities and send them in on a raid. Do that and you might well topple the entire kingdom, dissolve the pocket sovereignty, and restore the palace to the people of France. I’ve handed you my entire world to do with as you will, and you know it—you almost certainly planned it. All I’m asking is one life. Just one.” My voice cracks at the end, but I haven’t the pride to feel ashamed.

Reginald’s face is inexplicably stony as he leans forward, the acrid scent of stale tobacco filling my nostrils. “And if you want it, you’re going to have to pay for it, just like the next sorry sod, and you ain’t got enough money for two.”

My eyes widen and my mouth is so dry I can’t swallow.

I thought for sure…

I hear the slightest scuff behind me and spin to see Saber leaning against the wall. I feel the blood drain from my face as I realize that if he didn’t hear the entire conversation, he heard enough.

“Here,” Reginald says, holding out several vials of shimmering Glitter. We go through our regular routine of tucking them into the pockets that hang under my skirts as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened. The moment we’re finished, I’m itching to get away, but Reginald halts us. “Almost forgot these,” he says, handing an envelope to Saber, who wordlessly tucks it into his breast pocket and continues to Giovanni’s back door.

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