Legendary (Caraval #2)(13)
“Does that mean you’ve been called death?” Tella slumped in the doorway, legs finally giving out. She hit the floor with a graceless thud.
A laugh, delicate and light and very female, came from the other side of the room. “I think she swooned at the sight of you.”
And now she was going to throw up. There was another girl in the room. Tella got a noxious glimpse of a jade-green dress and shining brunette hair before Dante’s body stepped into her line of her vision.
He slowly shook his head. “What did—”
Dante’s gaze landed on the closed pair of eyes painted on her wrist.
He made a jagged sound that could have been a chuckle. But Tella wasn’t sure. Her hearing was nearly as muddled as her head. Her eyes gave up and closed.
“I’m surprised he got to you.” Dante’s words were very close now, and low.
“I was bored,” Tella mumbled. “It seemed like an interesting way to pass the time.”
“If that’s true you should have just come to me.” Dante was definitely laughing now.
*
The next several days were a blur of unfortunate hallucinations. Nigel took all of Tella’s dreams, but he left her with the nightmares. There were terrifyingly realistic images of her father forever taking off his purple gloves, as well as visions of shadows and shades of dark that did not exist in the mortal world. Cold, damp hands stroked her hair and others ripped out her heart, while bloodless lips drank the marrow from her bones.
Before experiencing death during Caraval, Tella would have said the dreams felt like dying over and over again. But nothing felt like death, except for Death. She should have known better than to think Death wouldn’t haunt her after she’d escaped. Tella was amazing; of course Death would want to keep her.
But although she’d dreamed of Death’s demons, when Tella came to consciousness, she was greeted by a goddess.
Scarlett stood next to her bed holding a tray of treasure, one laden with cream biscuits, eggs fried in butter, nutmeg custards, thick brown-sugared bacon, and a mug of spicy drinking chocolate.
Tella stole the fattest cream biscuit. She felt groggy, despite sleeping for days, but eating helped. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“I thought you would be hungry after what happened.”
“Scar, I’m sorry, I—”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I understand how easy it is to be tricked by Legend’s performers. And everyone on board this ship thinks Nigel took too much from you.” Scarlett eyed Tella, as if hoping she’d confess exactly why she’d gone to the fortune-teller.
Although Tella wanted to justify her actions, she sensed this was not the time to bring up the deal she’d made with her friend. Scarlett would be horrified to learn her sister had been writing to a stranger she’d met through Elantine’s Most Wanted, which was a shady establishment at best.
Tella had been telling Julian the truth when she’d said she didn’t enjoy lying to her sister. Unfortunately, that didn’t always prevent her from doing so. Tella kept secrets from Scarlett to protect her from worrying. Their mother’s disappearance meant Scarlett stopped being a carefree girl at an early age and became more of a caretaker for Tella. It wasn’t fair, and Tella hated adding to the burdens her sister already carried.
But Tella wondered if Scarlett had already found out what she’d done.
Scarlett kept nervously smoothing out wrinkles in her skirt, which seemed to grow more rumpled with every touch. During Caraval, Legend had given Scarlett a magic dress that shifted in appearance—and right now it looked as anxious as Scarlett. Her sleeves had been made of pink lace but now they were turning gray.
Tella took a fortifying sip of chocolate and forced herself to sit up straighter in the bed. “Scar, if you’re not upset about the deal I made with Nigel, what’s bothering you?”
Scarlett’s mouth tilted down. “I wanted to talk to you about Dante.”
Damn it all. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it wasn’t good, either. Tella had forgotten about passing out in Dante’s room. He must have carried Tella back here and Scarlett must have seen him, half-naked and holding Tella close to his chest.
“Scar, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I swear there is nothing going on between Dante and me. You know how I feel about boys who are prettier than me.”
“So, nothing happened between the two of you after Caraval ended?” Scarlett crossed the small cabin and picked up a pair of silver slippers, the same ones Tella had left in the forest. “He dropped these off last night along with an interesting note.”
Tella’s stomach turned as she plucked the thin sheaf of paper poking out from one of the shoes.
I’ve been meaning to return these since that night we spent in the forest.
—D
He really was a blackguard. Tella crumpled the note in her fist. Dante must have written it to torment Scarlett for rejecting him during Caraval.
“All right,” Tella said. “I confess, Dante and I did kiss the night of the party. But it was terrible, one of the worst kisses I’ve ever had, definitely not something I would wish to repeat! And I’m so sorry if doing that hurt you, I know he was terrible to you during Caraval.”
Scarlett pursed her lips.