Legendary (Caraval #2)(3)
Her jump from Legend’s balcony had not been an act of despair; it had been a leap of faith. But for just one night she hadn’t wanted to think about it, or why it mattered. She wanted to celebrate her success, to forget everything else. And Dante had looked like the perfect way to do both. He was attractive, he could be charming, and it had been too long since she had been properly kissed. And, saints, did Dante know how to kiss.
With another groan, he stretched beside her. His large hand landed on her lower back, warm and firm, and far more tempting than it should have been.
Tella told herself she needed to escape before he woke. But even asleep, Dante was so good with his hands. He idly ran his fingers up her spine to her neck, lazily digging into her hair just enough to make her back arch.
His fingers stilled.
Dante’s breathing grew suddenly quiet in a way that told Tella he was now awake as well.
Swallowing a curse, she hastily pushed up from the ground, away from his stilled, skilled fingers. She didn’t care if he saw her sneaking off; it would be far less uncomfortable than exchanging any forced pleasantries before one of them became bold enough to make an excuse for why he or she needed to rush away. Tella had kissed enough young men to know that anything said by a boy right before or directly after she kissed him could not be believed at all. And she really needed to leave.
Tella’s memories might have been blurry, yet somehow she couldn’t manage to forget the letter she’d received before things became interesting with Dante. A stranger, face hidden underneath the cloak of night, had slid the note into her pocket and disappeared before she could follow. She wanted to reread the message right away, but considering what she owed the friend who’d sent it, she did not think that would be very wise. She needed to return to her room.
Damp earth and spiked tree needles snuck between her toes as she began to slink away. She must have lost her slippers somewhere, but she didn’t want to waste time searching for them. The forest was tinged with indolent honey light and punctuated by heavy snores and murmurs that made Tella think she and Dante weren’t the only ones who’d passed out under the stars. She didn’t care if any of them saw her sneaking away from the pretty boy, but she didn’t want anyone telling her sister.
Dante had been more than a little nasty to Scarlett during Caraval. He worked for Legend, so it had only been an act—but although Caraval was over, it was still somewhat difficult to weed out the bits of fact from fiction. And Tella didn’t want her sister further hurt because Tella had chosen to have some fun with a boy who’d been so cruel to Scarlett during the game.
Thankfully the world remained asleep as Tella reached the edge of the forest, and then, Legend’s turreted house.
Even now, with Caraval officially ended, and all the candles and lanterns inside unlit, the mansion still breathed wisps of beguiling ember-glow light, reminding Tella of tricks yet to be played.
Until yesterday, this estate had contained the entire world of Caraval. Its grand wooden doors had led visitors to elegant balconies draped with lush red curtains, which surrounded a city made of canals, streets that had minds of their owns, and uncanny shops full of magical pleasures. But in the brief time since the game had ended, the turreted house had shrunk in size and the ephemeral wonderland hidden within its walls had disappeared, leaving behind only the parts that would normally belong inside of a grand house.
Tella trotted up the closest staircase. Her room was on the second floor. With a rounded robin’s-egg-blue door, it was easy to find. It was also impossible to miss Scarlett and Julian, standing next to it, holding on to each other as if they’d forgotten how to say the word good-bye.
Tella was glad her sister had finally lost herself in some happiness. Scarlett deserved every joy in the Empire, and Tella hoped it would last. She’d heard Julian didn’t have a reputation for stringing girls along, he never carried on relationships after Caraval, and he’d not even been scripted to stay with Scarlett after bringing her to Legend’s isle. But he lied for a living, which made it difficult for Tella to trust him. Yet, as the pair stood there with their arms wrapped around each other, and their heads leaning closer together, they looked like two halves of the same heart.
Their eyes stayed locked as Tella crept around them toward her room.
“Is that a yes?” Julian murmured.
“I need to talk to my sister,” Scarlett said.
Tella halted in front of the door. She swore the letter in her pocket grew suddenly heavy, as if impatient to be read again. But if Julian had just asked Scarlett what Tella had hoped, then Tella needed to be a part of this conversation.
“What is it you want to talk to me about?” Tella interrupted.
Scarlett pulled back from Julian, but his hands remained wrapped around her waist, weaving through the blushing ribbons of her dress, clearly not ready to let her go. “I asked your sister if you’ll both go with us to Valenda for Empress Elantine’s seventy-fifth birthday celebration. There will be another Caraval and I have two tickets.” Julian winked.
Tella tossed her sister a grin. This was exactly what she’d hoped for. Although a part of her still couldn’t believe the rumors she’d heard over the past week were true. Caraval only occurred once a year, and she’d never known of two games being played so close together. But Tella supposed even Legend made exceptions for the empress.
Tella continued to look at her sister hopefully. “I’m surprised this is even a question!”