For a moment Tella’s entire world stopped breathing. Every person near the dance floor had ceased moving, their rapt faces frozen in exaggerated states of shock at Tella and Jacks’s display. For a heartbeat Tella could only hear the cut-glass glitter tinkling softly as it continued to fall to the floor.
The Prince of Hearts—the Fate famous for his fatal kisses, who had haunted both her dreams and nightmares, and cursed her to unrequited love after drawing his card from her mother’s Deck of Destiny—was not merely a myth. He was real, and he was standing right in front of Tella. His pale skin glowed so unnaturally, if the entire ballroom hadn’t been frozen, she imagined they’d have all seen him for what he truly was.
He wasn’t entirely human, or human at all. He was something magical, something other, something wrong. A Fate.
And she had kissed him.
“I didn’t expect you to look so surprised. The coin I sent was a rather obvious hint.” Jacks reached for her and carefully smoothed out one of her curls, his hands much gentler than they’d been moments ago. She wanted to rage, to scream, to slap his reddened mouth, but it seemed he’d put her, along with the entire ballroom, under a spell.
“What have you done to everyone?” she breathed.
“Stopped their hearts. It’s like pausing time. It won’t last long, unlike what I’ve done to yours.” His jaw twitched as his cold gaze traveled toward her chest.
Tella took a shallow breath, because apparently that was all she was capable of. When they’d danced her heart had pounded, her veins had heated, her blood had raced. But now she could feel her heart struggling, beating too slowly, a weak echo of what it should have been. “Am I going to die?”
“Not yet.”
Tella’s knees buckled.
Jacks gleamed brighter. “This is going to be so much fun, I almost hate to tell you there’s still a way to save yourself.”
“How?”
“Bring me the second thing I want.”
“What is that?” Tella gritted out.
Jacks’s long fingers finished smoothing her hair, and his eyes met her gaze once more. She’d called his eyes silver-blue before, but now they shined just silver, twinkling with growing pleasure as her terror multiplied. “I want Legend the man, not just his identity. I want you to win the game and then give him to me.”
Before Tella could react, the moment shattered and the ballroom flooded with sound once again. She swore she’d never witnessed so many intentionally loud whispers, covered up with artificial smiles, as partygoers pretended not to be scandalized by Jacks and Tella’s display. Though one person did not appear to be hiding how he felt. Dante.
Tella’s already mangled insides twisted further.
Dante stood casually with one elbow propped against a thick metal bar near the mouth of the cage, but the rigid set of his jaw, the hooded sweep of his gaze, and the derisive line of his lips told Tella that he was far from calm. He looked furious.
His reaction shouldn’t have angered her. And her kiss shouldn’t have angered him, given that Dante was partly responsible for this mess. Unless he was only acting, which made more sense. Pretending to care about her was probably one of the roles he’d been given for Caraval.
Jacks’s gaze followed Tella’s and sharpened.
“I think he still believes you’re his.” Jacks’s pale skin gleamed brighter as he stroked a thumb under his chin, looking as if he were coming up with a truly terrible idea.
“This doesn’t involve him. Dante is one of Legend’s performers,” Tella hissed. “He’s just playing a role. He doesn’t even like me.”
“That’s not how it looks from here.” Jacks pressed his cold lips to her forehead, a mockery of a kiss, as he said, “I don’t give second chances, but I’m giving one to you. I wasn’t lying when I said that I want this charade to be convincing. If anyone discovers this engagement is a lie, or uncovers the truth about me or our arrangement, the consequences will be unfortunate. Take your tattooed friend over there.” Jacks turned his eyes toward Dante again. “You said he’s one of Legend’s performers, so I can’t kill him this week. But if he discovers the truth, I could easily end his life once the game is over.”
“No!” Tella objected, right as Jacks raised his voice above hers to announce, “Since it seems I’ve momentarily stolen everyone’s attention, now would probably be a good time to share some excellent news.”
As if the partygoers were puppets or part of an orchestrated dance, each of their coiffed heads angled his way.
“Many of you know my former fiancée, Alessandra, died late last year. Her death was a great loss to the Empire, one I thought I’d never recover from. But as you can see, I’ve found someone else, someone who I hope you will all adore as much as I do. Meet my new fiancée, Donatella.”
The room filled with applause and fresh clouds of stardust as the performers above tossed sparkling paper stars onto the scrambling people below.
To Tella’s eyes it all looked like ash.
Her own smile had never felt so wrong as she forced her lips to curve for the crowd.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
“Have I been unfair?” Jacks murmured. “I gave you what you asked for, now I want what I’m owed.”
“Oh, look!” someone cried. “The falling stars! They’re the first clue.”
The ballroom erupted into even more chaos. Some of the falling stars were clues, but it seemed others were full of nothing save for dazzling dust, which filled the cage with fantastic shimmering clouds when touched by the partygoers.
Caraval’s games had truly begun. As everyone around her reached for falling stars, Tella thought of all the times she and Scarlett had dreamed about Caraval, about Legend. Now Tella had to win the game or she would never dream again. And she doubted her sister would either. Tella had promised Scarlett she’d be careful, but already Tella had failed her.
The edge of Jacks’s poisonous mouth twitched. “You should take one of the clues, my love.”
“Don’t call me—”
“Careful, darling.” Quick as a snake, he pressed two firm fingers to Tella’s bruised lips. “You don’t want to destroy the beautiful deception we’ve just created. Now,” he said sweetly, “give my fingers a kiss for everyone still watching.”
Tella bit them instead. They tasted like frost and wishes gone wrong.
She expected him to pull away, for his sharp face to fill with color and his words to turn ugly and angry. But Jacks just left his cold fingers in her mouth, pressing them against her teeth and her tongue. Her stomach filled with lead, as something purely evil shimmered in his unearthly eyes.
“I’ll let you get away with this for now, but this is my last mercy.” He brushed his fingers over the spot where he’d bitten her lip, before pulling them from her mouth. “If you do not win Caraval and bring me Legend before Elantine’s Day, you’ll learn just how deadly my kisses really are.”
*
Up until that accursed night, Tella had loved glitter. As a little girl she’d often stolen tiny bottles of it from shops, imagining one might contain real dust from the stars, full of magic able to grant her wishes, or turn dirt into diamonds. But none of the bottles had been enchanted, and the glitter from the ball wasn’t real stardust, either, just pulverized glass. By the time the bells cried out three in the morning and she climbed into the sky coach with Jacks, it didn’t even sparkle; it clung like a parasite to her arms and the parts of her gown where flowers had once been.
You should have brought me Legend’s name.
Jacks hadn’t said a word to her since they’d exited his wretched castle. He lounged across from her, a lazy nobleman once again, unknotting his bronze cravat as if he’d just finished a series of tedious tasks: attending a ball, dancing, cursing Tella with his murderous lips.
“I take it you’re afraid of me now,” he drawled.
“You’re mistaking fear with disgust. You’re a loathsome monster.” And she had trusted him. “You tricked me.”
“Would you have preferred me to make the kiss kill you right away?”
“Yes.”