Finale (Caraval #3)(40)

Tella’s gaze lowered to the ripped hem of her ice-blue gown, and she willed it to mend itself, something she’d only be able to do if she was in a dream. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, almost as soon as she’d begun to think she wasn’t in a dream, the dress began to mend. The rip vanished, and a new tear inside of her heart took its place.

This wasn’t real. Legend had risked nothing to defend her in front of those servants, because they were only in a dream.

Until that moment, she’d always loved her dreams with Legend—they’d felt like something special that the two of them had shared. But this felt like a deception.

Her gaze sliced from Legend’s stormy eyes to Jacks’s cutlass smile, feeling as if she was standing in the middle of an immortal game board. She hadn’t liked how Jacks had tricked his way into her dreams, but it was almost worse that Legend had tricked her once again into believing an illusion was real.

“Both of you are terrible.”

Tella willed herself to wake up, and her eyes flashed open just as her sky carriage came to a halt.

She must have fallen asleep while traveling across the city, her visions of Valenda at night seamlessly turning to dreams without her even realizing it.

She climbed out of the coach to find servants buzzing around the palace grounds and painting everything with night dust, but it didn’t glitter as much, the stars no longer looked close enough to touch, and none of the servants glanced her way or whispered behind her back.



* * *



It wasn’t until the following morning, when Tella was back in her borrowed palace room, that she heard the voice of a servant.

“Miss Donatella.” Her name followed the loud knock that had woken her up.

Tella threw on her robe and dragged herself out of the raised can opy bed and across thick carpets. Perky sunlight warmed her skin as she opened her main doors. Two royal maids stood on the other side, the same ones who’d been in her dream last night.

They each held one end of a shiny black box, almost as long as Tella was tall.

“We have a gift from His Highness, Prince Dante,” the birdy maid said as both girls set the box atop the closest couch.

“He also wanted to make sure you received this.” The other maid handed Tella a crisp black envelope along with a curious smile.

But Tella wasn’t about to open Legend’s note in front of an audience, especially not one that she imagined would share its contents.

“You can go now,” Tella said. As soon as they left, she tore off the envelope’s seal. The note it contained was a simple square and covered with precise handwriting that for once made Legend easy to read.



* * *



Tella,

Last night might have been a dream, but I meant what I said about wanting you. I’m done playing games with you. If you feel the same, find me in the Midnight Maze tonight and I’ll give you your prize.

—L



* * *



She reread the letter, her—

“Donatella.” Scarlett’s voice was paired with a knock on the door, cutting off Tella’s thoughts before they could go anywhere interesting.

“I’m not here right now,” Tella called.

“Then you won’t mind if I come in.” The doorknob turned— although Tella would have sworn it had been locked—and Scarlett stepped inside. Her lacy gown was a shockingly bright shade of red, which seemed at odds with her somber smile.

A small train of lace rosettes trailed behind her as she walked toward where Tella huddled on a couch next to the box from Legend. But Scarlett didn’t really look at the box as she took the chair opposite her sister.

It was the first time they’d been alone since their mother had died, and from the way Scarlett was looking at Tella, this was clearly the main reason she was checking in. But Tella’s feelings were still too raw. If she actually talked about her mother now, it would be like picking off a scab before the wound had a chance to heal.

“How are you doing?” Scarlett asked.

“I’m viciously tired,” Tella moaned. “But I think I might perk up if you tell me why you looked so cozy with Julian yesterday.”

Scarlett’s cheeks turned bright pink and her dress shifted to the exact same color.

“I knew it!” Tella crowed. “You’re in love with him again.” Not that Tella really believed her sister had fallen out of love.

Scarlett shook her head, trying to fight her blush. She probably still felt as if they should be talking about their mother rather than boys.

But Tella needed this more than she needed to talk about broken feelings, and she believed her sister did, too. “Tell me everything.”

Scarlett sighed. “I think he’s stealing my heart all over again.” She then told her sister about Julian’s return, and how he’d insisted on coming with her to meet Nicolas, who sounded far more decent than Tella had expected. She surprised Tella again by confessing she’d challenged both gentlemen to a game. “But I think I’m going to call the game off.”

“I’m tempted to tell you not to.” The game was something Scarlett never would have done before Caraval, and Tella was impressed she’d suggested it. “It sounds like a brilliant idea, but you know I’ve never been a fan of Nicolas.”