The Everlasting Rose (The Belles, #2)(70)

“I know there’s nothing I can ever do to make you trust me again,” he shouts out behind me. “But I’ve been trying to do something—anything in my power to right this wrong.”

I stop and whip around to face him. “You gave her exactly what she needed to destroy me! Me and my sisters!”

My voice booms off the cavernous walls. I don’t care who hears me. My anger transforms into something that could live outside of me, a windstorm bursting from my chest made of thunder and lightning and furious rain.

“I didn’t know.” His hands shake at his sides.

“That answer will never be enough. It will never be all right.” My glare burns into him. I wish it would reduce him to nothing, show him how I felt after I discovered what he did to me. “Valerie is dead. Amber and Edel and Hana are under Sophia’s control. Who knows what she’s doing to them?”

“We will stop her,” he says. “I can fix this.”

“I will stop her. I will fix this. I will end this,” I say through clenched teeth.

We lock eyes. The deep brown of his irises is rimmed with red like chocolate malt candies dipped in cherry glaze.

“Are you done?” I shout.

I harden into stone as his shoulders shrug forward. “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and even more so when you’re mad.”

His compliment stirs into the fire inside me. “And you’re still an ass who thinks charm and compliments are bandages.”

“No, just sharing the truth.” His voice breaks. “If I have to... and if something happens, if things don’t go as planned... I will make sure no harm comes to you, and that... she doesn’t survive as queen. Neither you nor your sisters will ever suffer again. I’ll do whatever I can to make this right. You have my word.”

“And it’s worth a grain of sand.”

“I know, but you have it nonetheless.” He tries to take my hand.

I pull it away from him. “Just make sure you hold up your side of the deal. Make sure Padma and Charlotte and the Iron Ladies get to the palace safely. That’s all I want from you. I will take care of Sophia. I will take care of the rest.”

“Understood.”

We start walking again. He makes a left at a fork in the tunnels.

Nothing is left between us.

Auguste’s boat, the Lynx, skims the top of the ocean like the dragonflies that soared across the Rose Bayou back home. I wander around his private chambers. Sea-lanterns hang from hooks, and his desk is tucked into a corner. Maps cover the walls between the porthole windows. The scent of him lingers everywhere. The teacup dragons all nuzzle on a large horseshoe-shaped couch in the center.

I remember when I first met Auguste outside the palace, and he smugly reported that this was his boat. The memory is a hard lump in my stomach. I want it to burn a hole straight through and take with it all the memories of him.

The darkness outside the windows suddenly lights up, the sky filling with sparklers and star-shaped wish-lanterns as the God of the Sky and the Goddess of Beauty receive the kingdom’s desires. It must be midnight. A new year has arrived.

“Happy days to come.” The new year’s blessing drifts down into the office from the deck above.

“The Year of the Goddess of Love always brings something sweet.”

I hear the clink of glasses and more cheers.

I plop down on the couch with the dragons. They tuck themselves into the folds of my skirt and release tiny snores. I close my eyes and think back to this time last year. I spent the whole day making candy houses with my sisters. We lit tea candles and sat them inside our little creations, then placed them at the windows of Maison Rouge to call forth blessings from the God of the Ground. He’d find sweetness in this house and leave behind his goodwill and a fortune box for each sister. At midnight, our mamans had given each of us a wish-lantern and a slip of parchment to write down our heart’s desires. I’d scrawled along mine: I want to be the favorite.

That wish is now a nightmare. So much has changed in just a few months. All those little girl hopes evaporating—wish-lanterns destroyed by winds. If only I’d known what my life would become.

I jam my eyes shut to prevent angry tears from falling. The smooth rocking of the ship lulls me to sleep, my body sinking deeper into the softness of the couch. But soon I am snatched into violent dreams.

I’m falling through the sky. Cold air catches every fold and layer of my dress, ballooning it like a pavilion bell. My limbs flap around me, unable to help me slow down. I fight to open my eyes, the wind pushing tears down my cheeks.

I look ahead and spot a shock of red hair like the crimson tail ribbons of a festive kite.

Maman.

I scream her name, but the syllables are lost in the howl of the gale.

We tumble forward, the speed of our bodies accelerating.

I try to catch her. I try to stretch out my fingers to grab the end of her dress. But she’s just out of reach.

The dark tangle of the forest behind Maison Rouge lies ahead, the thick branches ready to engulf us, every naked skewer primed to stab through our insides. I scream and thrash about as Maman crashes into the boughs, their black fingers piercing her flesh.

“My lady,” a voice whispers.

My eyes snap open. I leap to my feet, hand on Rémy’s dagger.

Auguste’s guard thrusts a pale orchid fortune box at me. “For you. Sweet days to come and good fortune.”