Finale (Caraval #3)(90)



Scarlett didn’t know if this was the Lady Prisoner’s way of warning Scarlett not to escape right now. But it didn’t matter. Her Handmaidens were already upon Scarlett. They removed her gown with unnatural speed, tossing it onto the carpet, along with the precious Reverie Key still inside its pocket.

Throughout the entire process, Scarlett fantasized about darting for her dress and the key. But if she left now the Fallen Star would immediately know that she was gone and he’d be quicker at tracking her.

Scarlett’s best choice was to endure until Her Handmaidens left. She swallowed her embarrassment as their prodding hands insisted on washing her and helping her with her underclothes. They rolled her hair into curls with hot tongs, and then piled it atop her head, before lining her eyes in kohl, painting her lips with ruby lacquer, and brushing golden dust all over her skin until she glowed like one of the Fates. Although when she peered in the mirror she looked startlingly similar to her mother.

Scarlett shivered as Her Handmaidens left to open the box that Gavriel had brought earlier.

If it had come from almost anyone else, the dress inside would have been a wondrous present. The bodice was gold, with thin off-the-shoulder straps of tiny yellow diamond stars that glittered in the light and cast iridescent flecks of rainbows around the room. The skirt was full and red as heartbreak, except for when she moved. A twist or tilt of her hips and a burst of gold fell from her waist down to the hem, where the gold glittered and shone and winked like tiny comets.

Scarlett had never in her life hated something so exquisite. She didn’t fight as Her Handmaidens helped her into it, hoping now that their job was done they would finally leave. But as soon as Scarlett was dressed, a new escort appeared.

His face was too handsome to be human. He had dark brown skin, eyes framed by thick, long lashes, and lips with a natural curve that made him look as if he always smiled. His vicious green cloak was the color of poison ivy leaves during the Hot Season. It crashed around his ankles as he gave Scarlett a bow so perfect not even a drop spilled from the full goblet in his hand.

Definitely another Fate.

Sweet threads of magic mingled with the excited pops of gold swirling around him.

The Lady Prisoner stopped swinging. She watched this new young Fate with a warring combination of boiling red fascination and yellow loathing as he held out his free hand and took Scarlett’s.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Your Highness.” The rings on his fingers sparkled as he brought her knuckles to his lips and gave them a gentlemanly kiss. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together. I’m Poison.”

Scarlett immediately retracted her hand, flashing back to the immobile family she’d found during the Sun Festival.

“Seems she’s already heard your name and doesn’t like it much,” the Lady Prisoner said from her cage.

“I’ll change her mind.” Poison grinned, flashing perfectly straight teeth. “I’m going to become her greatest friend.”

“Doubtful,” Scarlett gritted out.

Poison clutched his heart, jewels glittering on his fingers. “I thought you were supposed to be kinder than your father. Whatever I’ve done to offend you, please forgive me. Otherwise it’s going to be a very tedious evening.” He held an arm out for Scarlett. “I’m here to escort you to the coronation.”

“Be careful,” the Lady Prisoner warned.

“Calm down,” Poison said. “You really think I’d hurt Gavriel’s daughter?”

“It wasn’t merely her that I was warning.” Anissa’s voice softened by a fraction and her eyes took on that unnerving shade of white. “Torture and death are on their way.”

Scarlett shivered.

Poison held her a little closer. “Don’t fret, little star. I think all she’s saying is that it will be a dramatic party.”

Without further ceremony, Poison swept Scarlett from the room and out into the lavish halls before descending into a series of underground passages that led them from the Menagerie into the royal palace’s Golden Tower.

The Fate kept up a steady stream of chatter as they climbed and climbed to the top of the tower. Scarlett felt hot beneath her heavy dress and shimmering makeup. But Poison only grew more and more animated with each flight of stairs, as if the Lady Prisoner’s warning truly had excited him.

He didn’t stop until they were just outside the room where they were to meet her father. “I meant what I said about being friends. You might not like me, little star, but if you need me, I’ll be here.”

His charming smile slipped into something more toxic as the doors before them opened, letting them into the room where the Fallen Star waited.

Tapestries of violent wars clung to the walls while ripe yellow avarice clung to the Fallen Star. He stood in the center of a cadre of guards, muscled young women and men who must have been Valenda’s finest, but next to Gavriel they looked like children playing dress-up. The air around him was electric with sparks; his eyes were full of flames; the cape he wore flowed from his shoulders like liquid gold.

His eyes flared when she walked in. There was a flicker of pale pink surprise, the color of fragile hearts, and for a moment so fleeting it might have been Scarlett’s nerves playing tricks, she imagined he was seeing her mother.

He took her arm from Poison and walked her to the balcony. From the careful way he handled her, no one would have guessed he’d killed someone in front of her a few hours ago.

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