The Everlasting Rose (The Belles, #2)(56)

“How will we get to Charlotte?” I ask.

“You will see.” She turns to Violetta and Liara. “Prepare our transports.”

Violetta and Liara rush out, and, after conferring with Surielle and giving some instructions, Lady Arane gestures at us to follow. We step outside and walk to the end of the pier, where eight wooden boxes sit in a row, their lids flapped open. Three are filled with all manner of goods. The others remain empty.

Edel speaks first. “Are those—”

“Coffins? Yes.” Lady Arane gestures to one that is filled with Belle-products. “These are headed to Céline in the Gold Isles. My associates will take them to a warehouse near the pier.”

“Why ship them in coffins?” I ask.

“Lesson number two, petite: Never do the expected,” she says with a wink. “Port guards don’t bother the dead. They’re superstitious. Before Sophia began monitoring post-balloons, we’d send the coffins that way—anchor a hundred post-balloons to carry a coffin across the sea—shipping ourselves and our papers throughout the kingdom.”

Three of her disciples climb into the coffins and place their masks over their faces. Edel and I exchange glances.

I take a deep breath. “How long is the journey?”

“Four hourglasses. Enough time to sleep, for the midnight star has just come and gone and it will be morning soon.”

Edel’s eyebrow lifts.

“Get in,” Lady Arane orders.

“I’m not going anywhere without my teacup dragons and my knife.” I cross my arms over my chest and plant my feet in place.

Lady Arane snaps her fingers.

A woman disappears and returns with a wooden cage. The dragons flit around inside, looking perfectly healthy. I poke my finger in, and they eagerly lick it.

“We did not harm them. They’re quite beautiful and rare,” Lady Arane says.

Another woman hands me my waist-sash. I quickly tie it. I open the cage. They climb all over me before settling into my waist-sash. Lady Surielle hands me my dagger. Rémy’s dagger.

“What about the money that was taken from us?” Edel says.

“Give them back all of their belongings,” Lady Arane orders.

Surielle tosses a purse in Edel’s direction. It almost tumbles into the dark waters around us, but Edel catches it in time. I bend and rub my fingers across the plush pillows inside the coffin. Belle-products ring the perimeter. The familiar scent of perfumes and crème-cakes finds my nose.

I watch Edel climb into the coffin and the lid close over her. Cold flushes through me.

Lady Arane gestures at the box. “It won’t bite. There are no spiders inside.”

“How do you travel?” I ask, as all the other coffins are carried off to a boat and not one is left for her.

“I have my own way. Don’t worry. You’ll have Surielle, Liara, and Violetta, three of my most trusted. They know how to be in contact with me.” She winks. “Meet you in Céline. The Gold Isles truly are beautiful. I was born in a small mountain town there. It’ll be good to see it once more.”

I climb inside the coffin and lie across the pillows. My back presses into them, and they easily take my shape. I barely have time to take one last breath before the lid closes over me and darkness descends.





Sweat soaks my back as my heartbeat picks up speed. I try to steady my breathing and calm the flutters in my stomach.

“You will be all right. You will be all right.” I whisper the mantra over and over again. “Try to sleep.”

The teacup dragons in my waist-sash squirm and adjust. I pat them until they settle. My brain is a tangle of worries: Did we make the right decision to trust them? Will they keep their word and help us find our sisters? What if they ship us straight to Sophia and collect their prize? What would Rémy think of what we’re doing?

My vessel is lifted and carried. My stomach flips. I clench my muscles until I feel myself set down. Snippets of Lady Arane’s instructions slip inside the box:

“Be gentle with these! We have first-timers.”

“Take the southern exit out of the caves.”

“Prepare my boat and I’ll leave to the east. If we’re being tracked, we’ll split their attention.”

After at least an hourglass’s worth of time, the voices quiet and I recognize the oscillating motion of a boat. I feel like a toy caught in the choppy waves my sisters and I used to create in the onsen tubs at home as little girls. Servants would march us into the bathing chambers and tell us to wait at the edge of the largest, bubbling pool, but Edel would leap in first before getting permission and usually pull me in with her. Amber would scowl, then inch her way in, letting her naked body adjust slowly to the temperature. Padma and Valerie would gather the bathing toys and drop them in for us. Hana always entered last, after her request for more bubbles was denied.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to remember those happier times, trying not to think about how we all won’t be together again. The space feels bigger as I sink into the darkness of the coffin. I fall in and out of sweaty hallucinations and tumultuous dreams—Sophia’s heckling me as we stand in front of her wall of cameos, the pained look on Auguste’s face when his true intentions were revealed at that dinner, Rémy waiting for me in Trianon, the dead, glassy eyes of both Claudine and Valerie.