Finale (Caraval #3)(91)
Claps and screams of joy erupted as they stepped outside. The glass courtyard below was overflowing with people. Children sat atop their parents’ shoulders, while others crowded inside fountains and climbed up trees, all of them with no idea what they were truly cheering for.
Her eyes latched on to a little boy wearing a paper crown and staring at the Fallen Star as if he just wanted to be noticed by him. Other children and adults peered at Scarlett the same way, admiring her merely because she was in a stunning gown and standing on a balcony beside the man with all the power.
Scarlett wanted to vomit. She wasn’t their princess or their savior; she was their failure. She didn’t even listen to what the Fallen Star was saying until she heard the words Paradise the Lost.
Scarlett’s focus sharpened.
“History knows Paradise as a thief and a criminal, but I knew her as my wife.” Gavriel closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow in a show of manufactured sorrow. “She’s the reason I returned to Valenda. I wish I could say that I came to save all of you from the villains who killed your last would-be emperor, but I was on my way here before then. I traveled here from halfway around the world as soon as I heard a rogue by the name of Dante Thiago Alejandro Marrero Santos was to be crowned emperor. I knew I had to stop him. He was not Elantine’s lost child. My wife, Paradise the Lost, was.”
Mouths all over the courtyard opened in sighs and ahhhhs. Everyone was eager to believe him although he had no real evidence.
The audience cheers died to a respectful hush as Gavriel promised to rule the way his dead wife would have wanted. His voice even cracked and Scarlett thought she saw several ladies swoon. No one seemed alarmed that if he’d been married to Paradise he should have looked significantly older.
“And now,” the Fallen Star said, “I would like to introduce someone very special. Together Paradise and I had one child, your new princess, Scarlett.” He placed the ruby diadem atop her head. “She is my sole heir, but do not worry, I plan to rule for a very long time.”
The courtyard erupted in applause. Perhaps a few intuitive individuals took his last words as a threat rather than a promise of prosperity, but Scarlett did not see their faces as the Fallen Star waved a hand and Poison stepped forward, carrying a gold crown so heavy most mortals would have bowed under its weight. It felt symbolic, for soon every human in the empire would be crushed beneath the fists of the Fate who wore it.
Scarlett tried to part ways from him as they left the balcony, but the Fallen Star linked his arm with hers. “I want you by my side tonight.”
Together they traveled down all of the steps of the Golden Tower to the throne room and into a nightmare masquerading as a party.
51
Scarlett
It was the sort of celebration that would make it into history books and eventually turn into romanticized fairy tales that made even the horrible parts seem attractive. A hundred years from now people who heard of the Fallen Star’s coronation celebration might wish they’d attended, although many of the humans actually there were looking as if they wished they’d not been part of the lucky crowd allowed inside.
Scarlett didn’t know how the guards had decided who to let in from the courtyard, but she wondered if they’d been told they’d be rewarded if they survived the night, for despite all the abuse, no one appeared to be fighting back.
Near the stairs she’d just come down, Her Handmaidens were sewing up the lips of guests with thick red thread. Then there was the Unwed Bride in her veil of tears, kissing all the married men until their wives began to cry. The Prince of Hearts was there looking debauched, but Scarlett didn’t watch him long enough to see what he was doing. Or maybe he was the one controlling emotions so that all the humans behaved.
Priestess, Priestess smelled of suffering as she wove around guests in a gown made of layers of veil-thin material that billowed as she moved. Scarlett had never spoken to her, but Anissa had told her that the Priestess’s gift was her voice. The Fate could make a person betray their mother or their lover or their most terrible secrets.
Scarlett tried to steer herself father away from the Priestess—not that there were many safe places. The throne, where Gavriel would have traditionally sat, was now gushing blood, like the Bleeding Throne in Decks of Destiny, though Scarlett didn’t know if it was the actual Bleeding Throne or just a replica. Across from it was a cheery polished wood stage that reeked of mortification and torment. It was just like the scene behind Nicolas’s estate. Scarlett watched while Jester Mad moved people around it as if they were marionettes. Their arms and legs were tied up with strings, which Jester Mad magically controlled to make their movements jerky and doll-like.
Scarlett wanted to cut them all free, but they didn’t appear to be in as much danger as the ring of people around Poison, all nervously holding goblets of bubbling purple liquid. She wasn’t sure what sort of game he was playing. But she remembered Anissa’s warnings about torture and death as she noticed a few of the room’s newest decorations: lifelike stone statues and melting ice sculptures of people who all held goblets in their hands.
Scarlett dug her heels in and looked up at her father. “I think your Fates are taking things too far. I thought you wanted your people to adore you.”
“They’re only having fun.”
“I’m not.” She tore her arm free from Gavriel. “I want you to stop this.”