Finale (Caraval #3)(79)



Donatella spends a week pretending she’s a mermaid

Donatella steals a goat and names him Cuddles

Donatella steals all her sister’s underclothes

Donatella writes her first letter to Legend

Donatella marries the Prince of Hearts

Tella’s blood ran cold. She looked back over the table of contents, to see if there was anything else that wasn’t true. But none of the other claims were false.

Maybe the book had a sense of humor like the Map of All? Or maybe Jacks had given her a fake map that led to a fake library where she’d gotten this fake book.

She hadn’t married Jacks. Tella wasn’t married. She wasn’t even sure she ever wanted to get married.

According to the table of contents, the event happened right after her mother had died. Tella violently flipped through the book until she found the dreaded chapter in question. She read each word carefully, but there were sections that stood out more than others.



* * *



If her heart had not been so heavy with grief and pain, Donatella would have known better than to trust the Prince of Hearts.

If she’d not been burning with despair, she would have realized the danger in repeating magical words as her blood mingled with his.

If she’d not just watched her mother die, she would have known that the Prince of Hearts was not taking her grief away because he cared. The Prince of Hearts did not know how to care. He only knew how to take what he wanted, and he wanted Donatella Dragna.

But poor Donatella was too grief-stricken to see it. When he told her to speak, she repeated his words, creating an immortal bond that would forever tie their souls together in eternal matrimony.



* * *



No way in all the hells. Tella didn’t want to believe it. But a part of her felt it. If she was being really honest, she’d felt it since the night it had happened, when she’d decided to lie there with him, to sleep beside him instead of leave. She’d felt it again, when she’d gone back the next day to ask for help. And again, when she’d felt so betrayed and so hurt by him after he had nearly killed her, when all she should have been was angry.

If it had been a human wedding, she’d have just slammed the book shut and pretended it had never happened. But this wasn’t something she could ignore or pretend away.

This was an immortal bond that would tie her soul to Jacks’s forever.





44





Donatella


Tella didn’t care that it was the middle of the night, that she’d forgotten her cloak, or that the streets of Valenda were far more dangerous than they’d ever been now that the Fates had taken over. She marched to Jacks’s as if she were deadlier than anything she might encounter.

Once at the door, she pounded her fist and then stormed inside the moment it opened. A riot of clacking and clicking and clapping assaulted her immediately.

It seemed that rather than hiding from the Fates, half the city had just come here. Tella wondered if Jacks had altered their feelings to get them there, or if all of them were as foolish as she was.

Heavily perfumed bodies brushed against her as she moved through the crush. The last time she’d been at Jacks’s it had been mostly men, but tonight the gentlemen were outnumbered by the ladies. All of them were coiffed and clean. None of them were covered in sweat like Tella.

A horrid spike of jealousy shot through her at the thought that she might find Jacks with his arms around another girl. But was she really jealous or did she have that sudden feeling just because they were immortally married?

Married!

Tella still couldn’t believe it. She’d flirted with trusting him again after he’d given her the map. But she never should have trusted him enough to let him trick her like this in the first place.

“Aren’t you full of fire tonight?” The lively crowd parted as Mistress Luck strode closer to Tella, all green-velvet-clad curves and cryptic eyes. “Seems you really can’t stay away from him.”

“Where is he?” Tella spat.

The Fate pointed toward a wall covered in black-and-white hearts. “There’s a door hidden there; it will take you to the gaming room where Jacks likes to play. But—”

Tella strode off without hearing the woman’s warning. It wouldn’t have mattered what she’d said.

Tella tore through the door and down a set of stairs, which landed her inside a room that looked as if it had been attacked by a deck of playing cards. Everything was black and white with violent hints of red. The white walls were striped with crooked lines of glittering red spades, while the floor looked as if someone had plucked handfuls of clubs, diamonds, and hearts and tossed them everywhere. In the center of the room, the heavy round table was equally wild, piled high with chips, cards, bits of jewelry, a few fancy shirts, and half-empty bottles of liquor. The chairs encircling it were full of gamblers, all in various states of undress, explaining the clothes mixed with the chips.

The only one who remained mostly dressed was Jacks. He’d lost his jacket from earlier, discarded his gold cravat, and his shirt was open, missing all of its diamond-sharp buttons.

“Everyone out!” Tella shouted.

A dozen heads turned her way, intoxicated faces all wearing various shades of surprise. Save for Jacks. His silver-blue eyes met hers expectantly and then he grinned like the devil he was. He’d known this moment was coming. “Hello, wife.”

Stephanie Garber's Books