The Queen ignored Lucy's offer and turned her neck toward the window, making sure that Loki and Axel and Fable had vanished into the blurry distance. "Lucy Rumpelstein," the Queen hissed, not looking at her. "You have no idea what you're asking. You also have no idea how insulting your inquiry is. You know why?"
Lucy's lips went dry. The Queen's change of tone scared her. Her tongue was too tied to answer her.
"Because I don't need anyone's help, sympathy, or love," the Queen explained. She stopped tapping her fingers. "I've grown through centuries with the kind of wisdom only immortals can acquire. You simply get all you want as long as you love yourself above everyone, and everything, else."
Carmilla's words made Lucy adore her even more. Please teach me how to become like you. Lucy's eyes itched suddenly. She wondered why, but didn't even bother to check. Who had time to do anything in the Queen's presence?
"You barely know who I am," the Queen continued. "No one really knows me." She let out that same sigh she'd uttered when she had her back to them a few minutes ago, that moment when Lucy almost thought Carmilla was discreetly sobbing.
Could that have been possible? Was that why she wasn't looking at Lucy now? Who are you, Queen of Sorrow? What great secret do you keep?
"Are you crying, My Queen?" Lucy said, not caring if she'd trigger her wrath this time. She needed to know.
The Queen didn't reply. She snapped her fingers sideways without looking at her. "You're free to go, Lucy," she said, still looking at the world outside Candy House's windows.
Lucy stood up, rubbing her wrists. She was caught between submitting to the Queen's orders and defying her by staying to see if she were crying.
What was the price of staring up at Carmilla Karnstein when she didn't want you to? Will you be turned into stone, like Medusa did to those who dared look at her? Was the Queen Medusa herself at some time in history? Who knew?
Fragile as she really was, Lucy walked past the Queen, toward the door, afraid to stare at her face. For a girl used to getting what she wanted, it was a hard decision. Fear consumed Lucy. Fear of the Queen, and fear of the evil self that was surfacing in her soul. Her eyes itched again. She began to worry if it was some kind of serious illness.
"I'll see you at school, Principal Mircalla, right?" Lucy said, ever so slowly, without turning back her head.
"Of course," the Queen answered with a hint of mockery.
Lucy thought of what kind of school Rumpelstein High would be with the new principal. Hell, what kind of town was Sorrow going to be from now on?
"Actually"—the Queen tapped her fingers on the table again—"there is something you could do for me, Lucy Rumpelstein."
Lucy's heart fluttered.
Yesss!
She didn't say anything, but turned slightly around. She nodded with dilated pupils.
"But you must know of the consequences of those who don't fulfill my wishes," the Queen warned her.
"I'm aware that you can hurt me." Lucy nodded. I like that I am afraid of you. It gives me something to fear in this boring town. Isn't this what we're all looking for in all those slasher movies—begging to be scared because we're all so bored of our normal lives?
"In my quest for my daughter's heart, I have no time to hurt you." The Queen's tone was flat. "If you mess up, I will kill you with the snap of my fingers."
"I understand," Lucy said. Her eyes itched again and again. Her hands were already numb enough that she couldn't reach for her eyes. In fact, almost every inch of her body had been numbed by Carmilla's warning.
"I need you to find me a book," Carmilla said.
"A book?" Lucy never thought she'd bargain with her life for a book. She'd never read one in her life.
"It's more of a diary," Carmilla explained, her voice tense again. "I don't know how it looks like now, or what shape it's in after all these years."
"Your diary?" Lucy asked.
"Don't interrupt me." The Queen nodded, though.
"You mean it's more than two hundred years old?" Lucy was about to jump in place.
The Queen's stare of irritation was strong enough to make Lucy stop and lower her head again. "I mean, if it's such an old and lost diary," Lucy said slowly, "it could have been passed by one person to another among the years. That if it's not already—"
"It can't be," Carmilla said. "It's sort of a cursed book—something you teenagers like to call 'enchanted.' The book can only be read once every one hundred years."
"Once?" Lucy's puzzlement was profound. Intrigue and riddle solving had never been her thing. She wished the Queen would tell her where the book was so she would go and get it. "How can a book be read only once, Majesty? I don't understand."
"It's a Book of Sand." Carmilla looked impatient. "Each page dissolves into sand when read once each one hundred years. If anyone attempts to read it after, they can't even find it, as it takes the shape of something else for the hundred years after being read. Last time someone read it was a hundred years ago. I'm sure it hasn't been read again yet, because tomorrow at midnight, exactly a hundred years will have passed. If you're quick enough, you will get it for me."