“Don’t you hear the footsteps?” he said, standing aside.
Mina did hear them now, echoing down the curved stairwell with each even step, a mockery of the heartbeat she didn’t have. She watched in growing horror as she recognized the figure now descending the stairs with perfect grace—first her dainty foot, taking small, careful steps, and then the hem of her familiar green dress, until a woman as composed and elegant as Mina could ever hope to be emerged from the shadows of the staircase. She wore Mina’s face, except there were no wrinkles to disturb her beauty, no signs of age or distress. She wore Mina’s hair in braids, not a single hair in disarray, no gray hair peeking out around the temples. She was Mina’s reflection come to life, identical in every way—except for the eyes. The eyes were chilling in their emptiness.
For a moment, she simply stood there, looking at herself—a version of herself without any feeling, any heart at all. This is what he wanted me to be, she thought. And just the sight of her made her realize how wrong she had been all this time, how deeply she could love—because Lynet was possibly dead at this moment, and while Mina could feel the blood draining from her face, this other Mina didn’t care at all.
Gregory snapped his fingers, and the other Mina collapsed in a pile of glass shards that scattered along the stairs. “I had to use what little strength I had left to make that thing because I knew you wouldn’t do it,” he said, his voice weary but dripping with contempt. His face was a mask of loathing as he turned to Mina. “Do you see, Mina? I don’t need you after all.”
Mina shoved him aside and nearly tripped over the pieces of glass as she raced up the stairs, cursing herself for leaving the poison in her room, for leaving the door unlocked, for marrying Nicholas and getting involved in Lynet’s life at all. When she reached the top of the stairs, the door gaped wide open, and she ran inside, letting out a strangled cry when she saw Lynet’s body sprawled on her back on the floor, her hair spread out around her head. One of her arms was stretched out at her side, and Mina saw the glint of a silver bracelet on her wrist—the bracelet that had been on her bedside table, next to the vial of poison. Her father had taken this first gesture of trust between them and used it to kill her.
She’s not dead, she can’t be dead. Mina fell to her knees beside her daughter’s limp body, cradling Lynet’s head in her lap. She died thinking it was me—that I killed her.
Mina felt rather than heard another presence and looked up to see Felix standing in the doorway. “Your father is gone,” he said. “I don’t know where he was going.”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Mina rasped. She leaned down to kiss Lynet’s cold forehead. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen, I—” I love you, she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. She’d never been able to say them to Lynet when she was alive, and so it seemed wrong only to say them now that she was dead. Using the fabric of her skirt to protect her skin, she managed to unclasp the bracelet and slide it away, hoping its removal might revive her. She put her fingers to Lynet’s wrist to check her pulse, and for one breathless moment, she was sure she would feel Lynet’s heartbeat echoing through her again, but instead she felt only her own emptiness, Lynet’s heart now as silent as Mina’s.
She was still sitting on the floor, crouched over Lynet, her body in her arms, when the surgeon appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily. “Your father told me to come at once. He said—” She broke off as she took in the sight of Lynet’s lifeless body.
Mina almost ordered the surgeon away. She had been the one to lead Lynet into this trap in the first place, setting this whole disaster in motion. But then a sliver of hope—so small, but still so dangerous—made her reconsider. Was it possible that Lynet wasn’t dead yet? The court surgeon would know better than she did.
Mina gently let Lynet’s body lie on the floor, still and unmoving, and rose in an attempt to recover some sense of dignity in front of this young woman. Nadia wasn’t looking at her, though; her eyes remained on Lynet, her mouth hanging open as she reached for the doorway to steady herself. There wasn’t time for her regret, though. “Has this poison definitely killed her? She put on the bracelet just a few minutes ago. Is there any chance she’s still alive?” Mina said.
Nadia shook her head, still staring at Lynet.
“Just come here,” Mina ordered, raising her voice. “I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of corpses before.”
Nadia swallowed and nodded, coming to kneel beside Lynet and check for some faint pulse that Mina had missed. Mina waited, hardly breathing, until the surgeon lifted her head and gave Mina her answer without even speaking.
Tears filled Mina’s eyes, and she turned aside, not wanting the surgeon to see her cry. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” Mina said. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? You didn’t care if Lynet had to die for it.”
“You’re right,” the girl said, her voice laced with disdain. “We both have exactly what we wanted, my lady.”
Mina ignored her, turning now to Felix, who was waiting at the door. “Take her down to the crypt,” she told him for the second time. “Don’t let anyone see you.” To the surgeon, she said, “You’re dismissed.”
After one last hesitant look at Lynet, the surgeon left, but Felix remained. He started toward Mina, but she held up a hand to stop him. She didn’t deserve to be comforted when Lynet was dead. She looked up at the patches in the roof, now letting in the cool light of dawn. How could Mina have forgotten such a careless detail? Lynet could have used that snow to her advantage. But she hadn’t fought. She had trusted Mina, and she had died for her trust. And now there would be no more chance for escape, not from the crypt.
“Take care with her,” she said to him. She couldn’t stay in this room any longer. She swept past Felix without letting him touch her. She was covered in fractures, and she was sure that if he placed just a finger on her, she would shatter into a million pieces at once.
34
MINA
She pressed her fingertips to the glass of her mirror, but of course, she felt nothing. Mina had often considered forcing her heart to beat; glass obeyed her, after all. But even if it worked—and she wasn’t sure it would, or if her heart would crack with the effort—it would still be a lie.
The steady pulse in Lynet’s fingertips hadn’t been a lie.
Lynet had died thinking that Mina had killed her, that her efforts to reach out to her stepmother one last time had failed. You’re the only family I have left. That was what troubled Mina the most—that Lynet may have died believing that she was unloved.
Maybe we can make something new.