Finale (Caraval #3)(104)
“You might want to fight even more,” the Assassin whispered.
They were almost at the throne.
Scarlett ripped herself free from the Assassin’s grip. “Let me go!” She brandished the white dagger that Paloma had dropped.
The Fallen Star finally saw her. His gaze went from the hooded Assassin to Scarlett, golden eyes widening as they caught on her dress—the dress he’d bought for Paradise—with its splashes of cream and black and rose and pink and flowers and lace and stray gold leaf. The flames at his fingertips died. The blood from the throne stopped flowing and for a moment the chamber was entirely silent.
“What have you done,” he breathed. His eyes left Scarlett’s to narrow on the Assassin. But Scarlett couldn’t tell for certain if he was upset because he believed that she was actually Paradise, or he thought that she was Scarlett.
“I took her from the past for you.” The Assassin shoved Scarlett forward with the flat of his hand.
Paradise wouldn’t have stumbled, so neither did Scarlett. She took a firm step, then she cringed and made a look of disgust. Paradise shopped in the Satine District and liked pretty things. She might have been a criminal, but she would have been revolted by the bleeding throne Gavriel sat upon.
“Why are you sitting on that thing? And who are these people?” She spoke with the same rapid tone her mother had used, and wrinkled her nose as she made a show of looking around, but she didn’t allow herself to appear too bewildered. Paradise hid her true emotions. “What’s going on here, Gavriel?”
The Fallen Star held her gaze, his golden eyes flickering like match-flames on the verge of starting a wildfire. As if he was seeing a ghost. The lie was working; he believed she was Paradise. But he didn’t appear to be in love with her.
He addressed the Assassin through gritted teeth as turbulent emotions writhed around him. “Please explain to me why you’ve brought her here.” The knuckles gripping the throne turned white as he said the word her. “Last I heard, you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“I changed my mind, but I doubted you’d be satisfied,” the Assassin answered roughly. “So I brought her as a gift.”
“I am no one’s gift!”
The Assassin ignored her, grabbing her arm again and shoving her closer to the throne.
“Let her go!” Gavriel thundered.
The Assassin dropped her arm. “She’s pregnant with your daughter. I know you’ve had difficulties with the child. I thought you could fix it, if you raised her yourself.”
“What—” Scarlett sputtered. “How does he know this? I haven’t told anyone I’m pregnant except for you.” Scarlett held the Fallen Star’s eyes again, trying to remember the way her mother had looked when she’d talked about him in the dress shop. But mimicking a look of love wasn’t going to be enough to make him love her. And just then she was less worried about him loving her, and more concerned he might do something rash, like kill everyone in the throne room. The fire still hadn’t gone out of his eyes.
“All of you, get out!” he ordered, and every Fate obeyed. Poison glided to the nearest door. The Assassin bowed and turned. Her Handmaidens, who Scarlett hadn’t even realized were still there, evaporated like smoke. Jacks, who was closest to the throne, began leading Tella by the elbow, but Tella stopped as they neared Scarlett. Her face snapped toward her sister and her hazel eyes regained their focus, as if she’d been suddenly yanked out of a dream.
“Wait—” Tella tugged at Jacks’s arm. “That’s my mother. She’s alive—”
“Get her out of here!” the Fallen Star bellowed. His throne burst into flames, filling the room with heat.
Jacks tugged Tella away with a hand around her waist, but she continued to fight him. “No—Mother!”
“Gavriel, what’s going on?” Scarlett said, trying to rip his attention away from her sister, who appeared to be going off script. “What is that girl talking about?”
“Don’t listen to her.” The Fallen Star marched down from the burning throne, leaving a trail of blood behind him, but it looked almost peaceful compared to the emotions attacking him. Usually his angry feelings flared out like sparks that wanted to set anything nearby on fire, but these emotions seemed to be burning him, digging into his shoulders and arms like barbs at the end of a whip.
He wasn’t angry with her or the Assassin, or even Tella; he was furious with himself. His emotions had erupted when she’d appeared, but they had flared when Tella said the word alive. He truly regretted killing Paradise.
But it still wasn’t enough to make him love her now.
When he had loved Paradise in the past, Paradise had also loved him. And Scarlett didn’t love him at all. Maybe that’s what she really needed.
She thought she could do it. She’d brought her sister back to life with love. Scarlett was loving. She knew the colors of love and the shapes they took. She knew what it felt like to fight for love and to lose it and to give it with no design of getting anything back in return. And maybe that’s why it wasn’t working now. She didn’t want to give him her love.
She’d seen him do too many horrible things. And even though he was mostly angry with himself right now, the emotion was so strong, it made her think he might do something hideous very soon, either to her or her sister, who was still dangerously close.