Caraval (Caraval, #1)(20)

She’d shown Scarlett the dress on many occasions. When Scarlett was still small—before she began hating the color purple—she believed it was indeed the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen.

“Can I wear it?” she’d asked one day.

“Of course not! This dress is not a plaything.”

After that her nana put the gown away. But it remained in Scarlett’s memories.

Scarlett thought of the gown that night, as the doors to the turreted house swept open. And in that moment, she wondered if her grandmother had ever actually been to a Caraval performance, for Scarlett could not imagine her purple gown being of notice in such a spectacular place.

Lush red carpet cushioned her steps, while soft golden lights licked her arms with gentle kisses of warmth. Heat was everywhere, when a blink ago the world had been covered in cold. It tasted like light, bubbly on her tongue and sugary as it went down, making everything from the ends of her toes to the tips of her fingers tingle.

“It’s—” Words failed her. Scarlett wanted to say it was beautiful or marvelous. But those sentiments seemed suddenly too common for such an uncommon sight.

For the turreted mansion was not what it had seemed from the outside. The doors Scarlett and Julian stepped through led them not into a house, but onto a balcony—although the balcony was probably the size of a small home. Roofed by a canopy of crystal chandeliers, carpeted in plush cranberry rugs, and lined with gilded golden rails and spindles that arched around heavy red velvet drapes.

The drapes swished shut a moment after Scarlett and Julian entered, but it was long enough for Scarlett to glimpse the grandeur that lay beyond.

Julian appeared unimpressed, though he managed a dark laugh as Scarlett continued to fumble for words. “I keep forgetting you’ve never left your little isle before.”

“Anyone would think this is incredible,” Scarlett argued. “Did you see all the other balconies? There are at least—dozens! And below, it looks like an entire miniature kingdom.”

“Did you expect it was just going to be a normal house?”

“No, of course not; it obviously looked much bigger than a normal building.” But not nearly large enough to contain the world beneath the balcony. Unable to control her excitement, she drew closer to the rim, but hesitated at the edge of its closed, thick red curtains.

Julian stepped in and drew a bit of it back.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to touch those,” Scarlett said.

“Or maybe that’s the reason they shut when we walked in, because they want us to open them.” He pulled the curtain back wider.

Scarlett was certain he was breaking some sort of rule, yet she couldn’t help but lean closer and marvel at the unbelievable realm resting at least ten stories below. It resembled the cobbled streets Scarlett and Julian had just ventured through, only this hamlet was not abandoned: it looked like a storybook come to life. She peered down at bright pointy rooftops, moss-covered towers, gingerbread cottages, gleaming gold bridges, blue-brick streets, and bubbling fountains, all lit by candled lamps that hung everywhere, giving an appearance of time that was neither day nor night.

It was about the same size as her village on Trisda, but it felt spectacularly bigger, the way a word feels bigger with an exclamation point tacked onto it. The roads looked so alive, Scarlett swore they were moving. “I don’t understand how they fit an entire world inside here.”

“It’s just a very elaborate theater.” Julian’s tone was dry as his eyes cut from the scene below up to the dozens of different balconies, all overlooking the same curious sight.

Scarlett hadn’t realized it before, but Julian was right. The balconies formed a circle—an enormous circle. Her spirits took a significant dip. Sometimes it took her an entire day to track down Tella on their father’s estate. How would she ever find Tella here?

“Take it in while you can,” Julian said. “It will make it easier to get around on the ground. After this, there will be no coming back up here unless—”

“Ahem.” From the back of the balcony someone cleared his throat. “You need to step away and shut those curtains.”

Scarlett turned immediately, briefly terrified they’d be kicked out for breaking a rule, but Julian took his time letting go of the drape.

“And who are you?” Julian stared down the intruder, as if this new young gentleman were the one who’d just done something wrong.

“You can call me Rupert.” He looked at Julian with equal disdain, as if he knew Julian wasn’t supposed to be there. Pompously, the man straightened his top hat. Without it he probably would have been shorter than Scarlett.

At first glance he had looked like a gentleman, in his crisp gray pants and a suit coat with tails, but as he stepped closer Scarlett realized he was merely a boy, dressed up like a man, with cheeks that still had baby fat and limbs that didn’t look as if they’d finished growing, despite how he dressed them up in fancy clothes. Scarlett wondered if his costume was homage to Legend, who was known for his top hats and finery.

“I’m here to go over the rules and answer any questions before you officially begin the game.” Without any flourishes, Rupert repeated the same speech given by the girl on the unicycle.

Scarlett just wanted to be let in. Knowing Tella, she’d already fallen in love with some new form of trouble.