Damn it all. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it wasn’t good, either. Tella had forgotten about passing out in Dante’s room. He must have carried Tella back here and Scarlett must have seen him, half-naked and holding Tella close to his chest.
“Scar, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I swear there is nothing going on between Dante and me. You know how I feel about boys who are prettier than me.”
“So, nothing happened between the two of you after Caraval ended?” Scarlett crossed the small cabin and picked up a pair of silver slippers, the same ones Tella had left in the forest. “He dropped these off last night along with an interesting note.”
Tella’s stomach turned as she plucked the thin sheaf of paper poking out from one of the shoes.
I’ve been meaning to return these since that night we spent in the forest.
—D
He really was a blackguard. Tella crumpled the note in her fist. Dante must have written it to torment Scarlett for rejecting him during Caraval.
“All right,” Tella said. “I confess, Dante and I did kiss the night of the party. But it was terrible, one of the worst kisses I’ve ever had, definitely not something I would wish to repeat! And I’m so sorry if doing that hurt you, I know he was terrible to you during Caraval.”
Scarlett pursed her lips.
Tella had probably taken the lie a little too far. One look at Dante and any girl could tell he knew what to do with his lips.
“I don’t care that you kissed him,” Scarlett said. “If I’d met him before Julian, I might have ended up kissing him too.”
A highly disturbing image popped into Tella’s head, and she understood her sister’s unease even more acutely. The idea of Scarlett and Dante together made Tella want to threaten him to stay far away from her sister, not that Tella thought it was even a possibility. But if just the notion worried Tella—who was all for Scarlett enjoying herself—she could only imagine how troubled her overprotective sister felt.
“I don’t want to control you,” Scarlett continued. “We’ve both experienced enough of that. I just don’t want you hurt. Caraval begins tomorrow at midnight, but as I learned during the last game, Legend puts his game pieces in place far in advance.” Scarlett shot another uneasy look at the slippers Dante had returned.
“You don’t have to worry, Scar.” And for once Tella spoke the absolute truth. “I trust Dante even less than I trust most people, and I know better than to let myself get swept away by Caraval.”
“I thought you said you weren’t going to play.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
“Tella, I wish you wouldn’t.” Scarlett smoothed her now completely gray skirts, this time leaving sweaty streaks. “What happened with Nigel reminded me of the more regretful things I experienced. I don’t want that for you.”
“Then play with me.” Tella’s words flew out impulsively, but even after giving them a second thought, it felt like a brilliant idea. Tella had watched Caraval from behind the scenes, but her sister had actually played and won. As a team they would be unbeatable. “If we’re together, you can make sure I don’t get tricked by performers like Nigel again. And I can ensure you’ll have fun. We’ll take care of each other.”
Scarlett’s dress immediately perked up, as if it were all for the idea. Its drab gray lace turned raspberry red and spread from her sleeves to her bodice, like attractive armor. Unfortunately, Scarlett still appeared wary. She’d gone from endlessly smoothing her skirts to anxiously wrapping her piece of silver hair around her finger, a streak she’d earned after losing a day of her life in the last Caraval.
Tella considered telling Scarlett the real reason she needed to play and win, but she doubted mentioning their mother would help her cause. Scarlett didn’t talk about their mother. Ever. Whenever Tella had tried to talk about Paloma, Scarlett either changed the subject or ignored her completely. Tella used to think it was too difficult for Scarlett, but now Tella thought Scarlett’s hurt had turned to hatred for the way their mother had left them.
Tella understood the feeling; she preferred never to talk about their father, and she avoided thinking of him as well.
But their mother wasn’t monstrous like their father.
“Crimson”—several knocks rattled the door to their small cabin—“are you in there?”
Scarlett’s expression immediately changed at the sound of Julian’s voice; worry lines softened to smile lines.
“We’ve reached Valenda,” Julian added. “I came to see if I could carry you and your sister’s trunks to the deck.”
“If he wants to haul my luggage, please let him in,” Tella said.
Scarlett didn’t need to be told twice.
The moment she opened the door Julian grinned like a pirate who’d just found his treasure. Tella swore his eyes genuinely smoldered as he looked her sister over.
Scarlett beamed back. So did the lace on her dress, deepening into a fiery shade of red as her skirt went from full to fitted.
Tella slurped her chocolate, loudly, interrupting the couple before their longing looks could shift into lustful kisses. “Julian, please help me out,” Tella said. “I’m trying to get Scarlett to partner with me during Caraval.”
Julian sobered instantly. His gaze flickered to Tella, suddenly sharp. It was as brief as a flash of lightning, but unmistakably clear. He did not want Scarlett to play the game. And Tella knew exactly why. She should have thought of it herself.
If Scarlett played, she’d learn the truth about Armando—that he’d performed the role of her fiancé in the last Caraval—and both Julian and Tella’s lies would be exposed. It would be far worse for Julian than it would be for Tella, but it would be the most painful of all for Scarlett.
“On second thought,” Tella said lightly, attempting to correct her mistake, “maybe I should play alone. You’ll probably slow me down.”
“Too bad. I want to play now.” Scarlett’s large hazel eyes returned to Julian, glittering in a way they never had back on Trisda. “I just remembered how fun the game could be.”
Tella smiled in agreement, but it felt so forced it was hard to hold on to.
Nigel had warned her that if she won the game it would come at a cost she’d later regret. Scarlett had tried to warn her about the game as well. But until this moment Tella hadn’t felt the force of either warning. It was one thing to be told about the risks of Caraval, but it was another to see them playing out. Even though the last game was over, her sister hadn’t fully escaped.
Tella didn’t want to end up like that, and she didn’t want to drag Scarlett through anything that might bring her more pain. But if Tella didn’t play and win the game, she might never see her mother again.
THE MERIDIAN
EMPIRE’S
CAPITAL CITY,
VALENDA
7
According to the myths, Valenda had once been the ancient city of Alcara, home of the Fates pictured inside every Deck of Destiny. They’d built the city with their magic. Magic so ancient and undiluted, even centuries after the Fates had vanished, remnants of their glowing enchantments remained, turning the hills of Valenda so bright that at night it could illuminate half the Meridian Empire.
Tella didn’t know if this entire myth was true, but she believed it as she took her first glimpse of Valenda’s twilight port.
A violet sunset cast everything in deep purple shadows and yet the world before her still glittered, from the tips of its primeval ruins, formed of crumbling columns and massive archways, to the concord waters lapping La Esmeralda. The rickety piers on her home isle of Trisda looked like brittle bones compared to the thick, living wharfs that stretched before her now, flanked with clippers and schooners waving billowing mermaid-green flags. Some were captained by women sailors, boldly dressed in slick leather skirts and boots that went up to their thighs.
Tella already loved it here.