The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(95)
The day before the ball dawned bright and clear. Or at least, Blue assumed it did. She’d stayed in bed until long past breakfast. Part of her kept waiting to hear Dinah knock on the door, demanding that Blue return to the farmhouse to work or head to the shop even though it was usually closed on weekends. But as the morning went on and Dinah never showed, Blue dared to hope that maybe since Dinah had what she thought was one of Mama’s old spells, the Chauveaus had returned to their quarter. Surely they needed to be in their own mansion, surrounded by a team of seamstresses, hairdressers, and maids as they prepared for the betrothal ball.
Before the thought of the ball could cut into the wound left by her love for Kellan, Blue rolled Pepperell’s thick body off her chest and sat up.
It was good that she didn’t need to prepare for the ball. Her garden was overdue for harvesting. She had dried herbs to grind. And she hadn’t had a good swim in the Chrysós since she’d gone in after Kellan.
Shying away from the memory of the fear that had gripped her when she’d seen him dive into the stormy waves and the affection that had swelled within her when he’d shared his truth with her, she dressed in another of her mother’s old gardening dresses. Sparing a quick moment to open the wooden box that held the gorgeous golden dancing slippers, she ran her finger over their jewels, careful not to catch her skin on the sharp prongs that held the stones in place.
The last thing she needed to do was cut her finger and have her blood bond the shoes to the box.
Her brows furrowed as she put the shoes away. That was another thing she could do instead of prepare for the ball. She could experiment with bonding different compatible substances using her blood as the alchemy.
Really, she had a very full day ahead of her. Even if she’d wanted to get ready for the ball, she’d have been far too busy.
After eating a quick breakfast with Grand-mère, Blue and Pepperell headed back to the farmhouse as the sun was rising to its peak in a clear blue sky.
Blue ran through her list of tasks, prioritizing them by necessity and interest. The garden needed the most attention, but she was most interested in experimenting with using her blood as the alchemy between compatible ingredients. Maybe she could do both at the same time. And then she’d swim as far out as she dared, letting the soft shush of the waves and the vast expanse of the horizon be a balm on a wound she didn’t know how to heal.
Kellan would dance with all the girls at the ball. Or at least all the girls who would dare catch his eye. He would smile and flirt and charm. And then he would announce his chosen bride and escort her onto the floor for the betrothal dance.
Everyone would believe that he meant every word. Every gesture.
No one would see the boy who dared the sea to take him because he felt responsible for his father’s death. No one would think of the boy who’d shone a light on the dark chasm of her grief for Papa and made it all right to laugh, to cry, and to remember. No one would see the prince who’d faced the blood wraith so he could protect everyone in his kingdom, including the street kids, or the prince who’d kissed the commoner because he loved her even though he knew he could never let his heart make his choices for him.
No one would see the real Kellan, and that made her ache for him.
He should be known as the brave, protective, conflicted boy that he truly was, not as the slick charmer who navigated political warfare with practiced ease.
As she entered her garden, feeling the buzz in her veins as flowers bent toward her and branches lowered themselves to brush against her hair, she let the ache she felt for Kellan sink into her bones, where it would stay.
Maybe it was enough that she saw him. That she understood him.
Maybe it was enough that she’d kissed him, and she’d meant it.
She hopped up the porch steps, opened the front door to grab her gathering basket, and flinched as Dinah stepped away from the wall beside the open door. The woman reached one pale hand to slam the door closed, and then skewered Blue with a look that was pure venom.
“Where is it?” she asked, biting off each word and flinging them in Blue’s face.
Blue froze, her heart racing. “Where is what?”
Dinah’s arm whipped out, her palm connecting with Blue’s face in a stinging blow that crushed Blue’s lips against her teeth. Blood welled, and Blue stumbled back.
Dinah advanced slowly, her tone vicious. “I am done with your games, Blue. I know you faked the spell you gave me.”
“I . . . What?” Blue looked wildly around for help as Dinah came closer, but they were alone.
Dinah’s lip curled as she mimicked Blue’s voice. “Oh, I just happened to look inside my mother’s old cauldron and see what I found! Look at the rare ingredient you can easily find at the castle! Will you leave now that you have what you want?”
Blue’s back hit the wall beside the receiving parlor, and Dinah slammed one palm onto the wall beside Blue’s face. The other hand grabbed a handful of Blue’s dress and anchored her in place.
“You wanted an old spell, and I gave you one!”
“You faked an old spell to trick me.” Dinah’s tone sent a shiver down Blue’s spine. “That means you’ve known all along what I was looking for, and you thought you could keep it from me.”
“I don’t . . . You said an old spell. That’s all I know.”
Dinah laughed, cold and cruel. “Liar. You’ve been getting in my way from the moment I walked through this door. Mouthy little brat. Saying you don’t know where your mama kept things. Refusing to look through the chests in the root cellar. And then giving me a fake spell.”