Finale (Caraval #3)(109)

“The whole empire is going to fall so madly in love with you that Julian might get jealous,” Tella said.

Scarlett laughed under her breath. “Julian’s already jealous—he actually thinks Poison has a crush on me.”

“Poison does have a crush on you. Why do you think he agreed to a truce with you so quickly?”

“Maybe because my sister is nicknamed the Fate Slayer.”

Tella’s cheeks pinked with pride. “You think I could get a Wanted poster with a picture of me on it and that title beneath it?”

“You’re not a criminal,” Scarlett said. “You’re a hero.”

“Yes, but I’ve always wanted my own Wanted poster.” Tella laughed, but her face turned wistful in a way that let Scarlett know she was thinking about their mother again.

“Do you believe our mother really was Empress Elantine’s daughter?” Scarlett asked.

“I don’t know that we’ll ever know for sure. But I like to think she was. When Empress Elantine talked about Paradise, she’d sounded fond and regretful.” Tella rambled toward the wall of windows, and pulled back a pair of curtains to look out at the crowd already forming in the glass courtyard for that evening’s ceremony. “We could always ask the Assassin to take us back in time to see her again and find out for certain.”

“Maybe,” Scarlett said. But she doubted it. After the Fallen Star’s death, the Assassin had disappeared along with most of the other Fates. Poison was the only one who’d stayed behind, and Scarlett really hoped he didn’t have a crush on her. Fates’ affections tended to turn into deadly obsessions, as it had with Jacks and Tella. Thankfully, no one had seen Jacks since Legend’s love broke the spell he’d placed on Tella.

Scarlett didn’t know if Jacks had fled with some of the other Fates to the northern kingdoms, where it was rumored that other Fates had been living quietly. Now that the Fallen Star was dead, the Fates he’d created were no longer immortals, but were ageless. They could live supernaturally long lives, but they could also die if they gave people reason to come after them.

Scarlett would have spies look into it once she was officially crowned empress. She still wanted to track down some of the crueler Fates, like Jester Mad, the Murdered King, and the Undead Queen and bring them to justice. For her sister’s sake, she wanted to make sure Jacks wasn’t coming back, either.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” The crisp voice of a maid followed a soft knock on the door. “Mister Julian is here to see you.”

“Let him in.” Scarlett crossed the room with a speed that was probably improper for an empress. But she couldn’t help herself, just as she couldn’t stop herself from grinning as Julian stepped inside. Her mother’s dagger, now infused with the Fallen Star’s magic, had removed the Fated iron mask from his face with one touch. Scarlett couldn’t even tell that Julian had ever worn it. He looked both dapper and rakish in the suit he’d had made for tonight’s coronation. Scarlett especially liked his gray vest and the thin red stripes that matched the flowers in her gown.

Tella closed the drapes with a dramatic swish. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Scarlett said.

“It’s all right. I’m sure the two of you would rather smolder at each other in private, and I need to go and write a letter to Legend.”

Julian gave Tella a crooked smile. “I think my brother’s in the palace right now.”

“I know. But I’d much rather write him a letter.” Tella skipped to the door with an impish look on her face, which probably should have concerned Scarlett. But she was too distracted by Julian to worry about anything else.

As soon as Tella left, Julian stalked deeper into the room. His eyes slowly raked over the fitted lines of Scarlett’s white gown, leisurely moving from her hips all the way up to the golden circlet she’d wear until she was officially crowned. “I wasn’t sure you’d have time to see me today.”

“I am very important.”

“I know,” he said solemnly.

“Julian, I’m only joking.” She swiped his arm playfully. He took the opportunity as an excuse to steal her hand.

“You look bewitching,” he said, pulling her closer. “But I think your dress is missing something.”

He lifted the coat folded over his arm to reveal a present resting in his hand. The box was small and thin, and tied with a simple red bow that made her think he’d wrapped it himself.

“I told you I didn’t need any gifts today.” But she was grinning wider as she opened it.

Inside was a pair of crudely stitched gloves that went only to the wrist. For a moment, she wondered if this was his way of proposing. Gloves used to be a symbolic gift that gentlemen gave ladies they wanted to propose to. But the custom was out of style, and these didn’t seem to be ordinary gloves. When Scarlett touched them, they began to shift. They moved the way her Fated dress used to, transforming from simple white gloves with crude stitching to long, elegant sheaths of deep ruby lace.

“Where did you get these?” Scarlett breathed.

“I went back to the dungeon and there were a few scraps of fabric from your dress that I sewed together.”

“You sewed these yourself?”