The Everlasting Rose (The Belles, #2)(88)

“Whatever poor soul you’ll be presenting to these people, her identification mark will prove she is no princess.”

Sophia paces around me, then leans in to whisper, “To whom? No one in my cabinet. No one in my guard. I am adored. Any challenger, any usurper will be put down.” She waves a hand in the air and turns back to the watching crowd.

The arcana is a small throbbing hum inside me, a reluctant ribbon buried deep, one I wasn’t sure I wanted any longer, but I summon it to wake up again. The memory of what I did to the guards and the woman watching the gifts rushes back. I close my eyes and picture Sophia just as she is standing before me. My skin ignites, my limbs stretch, my curls straighten, and my dress changes to match hers.

“What are you doing?” Sophia yells. “Guards! Guards!”

We’re identical now. I take a breath and attack, leaping on her with every ounce of my rage coursing through me. We toss and turn, thrashing across the floor. I slap her and shake her, and she bites and kicks.

The onlookers scatter to the edges of the room, cowering and screaming and trying to get away from us.

She shoves me away.

We scramble to our feet.

“Arrest her,” Sophia orders, pointing at me.

“Arrest her,” I parrot back, pointing at her. My first arcana—Manner—helps me perfect her pitchy voice.

The guards stand stunned.

“Did you hear me?” Sophia says, her voice now a shrill. “She’s the fugitive Belle. A traitor.”

They move in my direction.

I repeat her words.

They freeze.

Sophia’s jaw tenses. “Fine! You want to play this game?”

I mimic her.

We circle each other, ready to fight again. I focus on holding the glamour and don’t dare look away from my enemy. Her fingers twitch, and so do mine. I lick my lips, salivating to lash out, to end this once and for all.

I realize a second too late that our circling has brought Sophia within inches of her whip. Before I can move, she scoops it up and, with a flick of her wrist, it curls around Amber’s neck, cuts a deep gash, and snaps it.

Amber doesn’t even scream. Her eyes flutter, lashes batting like butterfly wings, and she tumbles forward.

“No!” I scream, falling to my knees.

The crowd erupts in horror.





“I win. I win. I win,” Sophia says, parading around the now silent room.

I rush to Amber, cradling her head in my lap. Her vacant eyes stare up at me. My heart is still. Frozen in my chest. Maybe never to beat again. The glamour slides right off me, and with it more blood pours out of my nose and down onto Amber’s forehead. I can’t loosen my arms around her to wipe it.

“Now, take her, but don’t be too rough. She’s the one I really need,” Sophia says.

The guards snatch me away from Amber. Her body slides off me and hits the floor again with a thud. A river of blood leaks from inside her. They loop chains around my wrists and lift me to my feet.

I can’t fight them. My hands and arms are numb.

Sophia does a lap around me. “Now, I’m going to take all those teacup dragons of yours and add them to my collection. I’m going to keep you in my prison, for you will be my true everlasting rose, and I’m going to kill that traitorous guard you love so much. What’s his name? Reim... no... Raine... no... Oh, Rémy. That’s right.”

The sound of his name hits me.

“You will learn to be loyal.” I jerk forward, but the guards pin me in place. The edges of the room lose focus. “One way or another.”

She laughs and I shiver. A cold settles into my veins like I’m about to create another glamour. But instead, Sophia and each guard appear in my head. The erratic beat of their hearts floods my ears. Their pulses are racing melodies. My anger mingles with the arcana twisting their portraits into unrecognizable shapes.

They all drop to their knees. Sophia screams. Her skin crinkles like parchment. Her eyes drift to the sides of her face like fish’s. Her mouth is an O shape of anguish. I can’t hear what she tries to say. I can’t stop.

I focus on the hearts of everyone in the room. I slow them down, beat by beat, until there’s only a faint murmur. The guards turn pale, and Sophia grabs at her chest. Her eyes begin to roll back. Everyone drops. Hundreds of people. Their screams are a chorus, echoing off the ceiling.

Blood rushes down my lips and chin and neck, the salt of it seeping into my mouth. My nerves are raw with power; all three arcana gifts sear through me.

I could kill them all. Not one of them helped Amber. Not one of them tried to stop Sophia.

The room almost dissolves around me. A carousel of light and shapes spinning as the heartbeats slow to a stop.

The door opens. “Stop!” a voice hollers.

It’s Charlotte. She hobbles forward with a cane to support her. Her curly brown hair towers over her, thick with magnolia flowers, and her eyes hold strength. “You don’t want to do this!”

The Iron Ladies stand proudly in their masks. Padma and Auguste edge into the room and stare at the horror I’ve unleashed.

“You aren’t this person,” Charlotte says.

“I am,” I reply. “It needs to be over.”

Sophia’s body jerks forward and rolls around the floor. Her breath is ragged, and she starts to hiccup.