While Tella was still asleep, Scarlett received a note sheathed inside the linen napkin accompanying her breakfast. She resisted the urge to immediately tear open the message. Instead, she took another sip of her morning cordial and slowly slid the page into her pocket.
She swore she could see puffs of demanding purple drifting up from where the message hid, as if it contained some of her sister’s impatience.
The Lady Prisoner was friendly, forthcoming with what she knew about the Fallen Star’s plans, and she hadn’t told him about Scarlett’s use of the Reverie Key. And yet Scarlett still didn’t entirely trust her. She let the note sit in her pocket until later that afternoon, when the Lady Prisoner’s eyes were finally closed for her nap and Scarlett could see that her colors had genuinely shifted to the tranquil teal of still waters.
The lady Fate never slept long—Scarlett imagined it had something to do with the fact that she was forced to sleep on a perch. So Scarlett read quickly, and then she penned a hasty note of her own.
Donatella,
I’ll get the blood, and I’ll be careful, but whatever you’re doing—be quick. In three days’ time, the Fallen Star plans to make his claim for the throne. He’s bragged to me that his Fates will continue to torment the city. When he makes his first public appearance, he wants the people of Valenda to beg him to claim the throne and replace the Fates who killed Legend. No one will think to complain that he’s crowned himself emperor until it’s too late.
All my love, S
