I was so relieved to hear you made it safely to the palace, and more than a little surprised to learn they placed you in the golden tower—I can’t wait to hear how that happened!
I hope you don’t mind, I’ve agreed to spend the afternoon with Julian. But I still plan on going with you to the Fated Ball for the start of Caraval. I’ll meet you at the stone garden outside the carriage house an hour before midnight.
Love,
Scarlett
* * *
It was wrong that this letter concerned her more than the missive from the heir. But Tella had nearly forgotten asking Scarlett to play the game with her. She’d done it before learning she’d need to meet her friend at the ball.
Tella deflated against the bed. This would complicate things.
Unless Tella confessed all of her secrets to Scarlett.
It was a terrifying thought. Scarlett wouldn’t be pleased to learn she’d been deceived by Armando during Caraval, or that Tella had been searching for their mother. And Tella couldn’t even guess what her sister would think about Tella’s new fake fiancé. But Scarlett was the most loyal person Tella knew: She would be upset, but it wouldn’t prevent Scarlett from helping Tella win the game.
And Tella needed to win the game.
10
Night and his mistress the moon were both out to play when Tella reached the starlit stone garden where she was supposed to meet Scarlett before beginning their grand adventure.
The Fated Ball at Idyllwild Castle marked the official beginning of Caraval. But that night there’d be celebrations all over the city. At each one, the first sets of clues would be distributed so that people from across Valenda could play.
Even the air buzzed with anticipation and excitement. Tella could feel it licking her skin, as if it wanted to drink in her frenzied emotions as well.
Tella wasn’t usually anxious. She liked the thrill that came with taking risks. She loved the feeling of doing something bold enough to make her future hold its breath while she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation that she’d made a choice with the power to alter the course of her life. It was the closest she ever came to holding real power.
But, Tella also knew not every gamble paid off.
She’d spent all day thinking about it as she explored the palace grounds in a failed search for rumored secret passages. She felt mostly certain tonight would go as planned. Scarlett would understand when Tella confessed all of her secrets. Tella’s friend would then give her a week to play the game and uncover Legend’s name, so she could erase the terrible future that the Aracle had showed, and finally find out who her mother really was and why she’d left so many years ago.
Tella had succeeded at far more complicated plots and yet she could not shake the growing premonition that all her plans were about to unravel.
She ran her fingers over the luckless coin concealed in her pocket. Her friend said that he would be sure to find her as long as she had the coin, and Tella wondered if he was already at Idyllwild Castle searching for her.
Perhaps the heir was looking for her as well.
Tella released a nervous laugh. She was definitely in over her head, but at least she’d soon have her sister with her.
In the distance a bell sang out, marking the time as a quarter past eleven. Less than one hour left until Caraval officially began. Tella was running out of time.
Her friend had wanted her at the party before midnight.
But Scarlett was nowhere in sight.
A few skyfall-blue petals rained from Tella’s flowering gown as she shot an uneasy look around the garden, hoping for a glimpse of one of her sister’s cherry dresses. But Tella’s only companions were the immobile statues.
The legends claimed that at one point during the Fates’ indomitable rule, the statues in Elantine’s stone garden had been real people. Mostly outdoor servants, going about their palace duties, pruning shrubs, picking flowers, and sweeping paths, when, for no fault of their own, they’d been turned to stone.
It was said the Undead Queen had done it. Apparently she didn’t believe the current sculptures looked lifelike enough, so she asked another Fate to transform a group of servants into statues.
Tella looked into the wide stone eyes of a young maid, imagining that her panic now mirrored Tella’s own.
It wasn’t like Scarlett to be tardy.
Unless her sister wasn’t coming, or something had happened to her.
Nervously Tella went to the edge of the garden, craning her head toward the hedge-lined path back to the palace. She might have started down it to try to find her sister, but another person was already on it.
Dante.
Tella’s already anxious stomach did another flip.
He’d traded in the black clothes he seemed to favor for nevermore gray. But his tall boots and the silk cravat around his neck were both deep shades of blue-black smoke, matching the curls of ink on his ungloved fingers. He looked like a freshly woken storm, or a beautiful nightmare come to life so he could personally haunt her.
Tella considered darting behind one of the statues. He was supposed to spot her from far away at the ball. He was supposed to be dazzled by her extravagant gown, and jealous when he spied her flirting with another man. He was not supposed to see her nervously standing in a garden by herself.
She hoped he’d walk right by the statues without noticing her. But Dante’s gaze had already found her. It took hold of Tella like a pair of hands wrapping around her waist and holding her in place as he approached. His shadowed eyes took their time trailing from her unbound hair to the ribbon tied around her throat, where they darkened and rested a full second before dropping.
Tella didn’t usually blush, but she felt a rush of color find her cheeks.
Dante looked up and gave her a fallen star’s smile. “You should always wear flowers.”
A few of the shyer blossoms on her gown finally bloomed, and Tella met Dante’s eyes with one of her most dazzling smiles. “I’m not wearing these for you. The dress was a gift from my fiancé.”
Dante’s eyebrows arched, but it wasn’t with the jealousy she’d hoped for. He eyed the gown as if it were something filthy, and then he looked at Tella as if she’d gone completely mad. “You need to be more careful with what you say.”
“Why’s that? Are you jealous and afraid someone other than a matron might actually believe me? Or are you suddenly nervous because Elantine’s heir—the fiancé you gave me—is a murderous fiend who might kill me for claiming we’re engaged?”
Before Dante could answer, Tella swept past him, toward the path to the palace and hopefully her sister. It was now half past eleven and growing closer to midnight. She needed—
“Donatella.” Dante snatched her wrist before she could take a second step. “Just tell me you’re not going to the Fated Ball at Idyllwild Castle.”
“That would be a lie.”
Dante’s fingers tensed around her wrist. “There are other parties. You shouldn’t be going to that one.”
“Why not?” Tella pulled away. “I enjoy drinking and dancing, and even you acknowledged that I look rather spectacular.” She did a half twirl, letting the petals of her skirt brush against his polished boots.
Dante gave her a look so withering the flowers that had just swept his trousers retreated back into buds. “Idyllwild Castle belongs to Elantine’s heir. Do you know what will happen to you there if he discovers you’re claiming to be his fiancée?”
“No, but it might be interesting to find out.” She flashed an impish smile.
A line of frustrated red started up Dante’s neck. “Elantine’s heir is unhinged; he hasn’t just killed the other heirs—he’s murdered anyone who he’s believed might get in his way to the throne. If he suspects for a second you’re one of those people, he will end you, too.”
Tella resisted the urge to flinch or cower. A part of her recognized that wearing the dress and risking the heir’s attention might have been a poor idea, but it rattled Dante, so Tella refused to think of it as a mistake.