Scarlett’s feelings were a commotion of colors, swirling around her in garlands of excited aquamarine, nervous marigold, and frustrated gingersnap. She’d been pacing the suite since her sister had left, somehow knowing that Tella wouldn’t be back in time, but also hoping that she’d prove Scarlett wrong.
She stopped pacing and looked herself over in the mirror once more, to make sure her dress wasn’t a reflection of how anxious she felt. The gown’s pale pink lace appeared duller than before, but everything appeared dimmer in this mirror.
The suite Scarlett and Tella rented was a threadbare tapestry of aging items. Both girls had agreed on moving out of the palace. Scarlett had wanted to be independent. Tella claimed the same thing. But Scarlett imagined her younger sister had also wanted to create distance from Legend after how he’d walked away from her at the end of Caraval.
Tella had begged to rent one of the fashionable apartments in the fanciful Satine District, but Scarlett knew that their money had to last beyond one season. As a compromise, they’d leased a suite of small rooms on the farthest edge of the Satine District, where the trim on the mirrors was more yellow than gold, the chairs were upholstered with scratchy velveteen, and everything smelled chalky, like chipped porcelain. Tella complained about it regularly, but living somewhere modest allowed them to stretch their funds. With most of the money Tella had stolen from their father, they’d secured this apartment until the end of the year. Scarlett wasn’t sure what they’d do after that, but it wasn’t her most pressing concern.
The clock chimed three.
She peered out her window. There were still no signs of Tella among the holiday revelers, but Scarlett’s ground coach had finally arrived. There weren’t many in Valenda, as people favored floating carriages to ones that rolled through the street. But, her former fiancé, Count Nicolas d’Arcy, or Nicolas as she had started calling him, resided in a country estate outside the city’s quarters, far beyond any of the floating carriage houses. Knowing this, Scarlett had secured her transport a week ago. What she hadn’t known was how crowded the festival would be.
People were already hollering at her coachman to move. He wouldn’t wait long. If he left, Scarlett would be stranded and she’d miss her chance to finally meet Nicolas.
Her lips pinched together as she entered the bedroom where Paloma slept.
Always sleeping. Always, always sleeping.
Scarlett tried not to be bitter. Knowing her mother hadn’t meant to abandon them forever, that she’d been trapped in a cursed Deck of Destiny for the past seven years, made Scarlett more sympathetic to her. But she still couldn’t forgive her mother for leaving her and Tella with their wretched father in the first place. She could never see Paloma the same way Tella did.
In fact, Tella would probably be furious when she returned and found Paloma unattended. She was always saying how she didn’t want their mother to wake up and be alone. But Scarlett doubted Paloma would wake today. And if Tella was so concerned, she should have come back in time.
Scarlett pulled open the main door to her suite, ready to call for a servant and ask her to keep an eye on their mother. But one of the maids was already there, coral-cheeked and smiling broadly.
“Afternoon, miss.” The servant did a quick half-curtsy. “I came to tell you there’s a gentleman waiting for you in the first-floor parlor.”
Scarlett looked past the servant’s shoulders. She could see the scratched wood banister, but there was no view of anything downstairs. “Did the gentleman give a name?”
“He said he wanted to surprise you. He’s very handsome.” The girl coyly twirled a lock of hair around her finger, as if this attractive young man was standing in front of them.
Scarlett hesitated, considering her options. Perhaps it was Nicolas, come to surprise her. But that didn’t sound like him. He was so proper, he hadn’t wanted to meet her while the Days of Mourning were being observed; he’d asked her to wait until today for their true courtship to begin.
There was one other person who it might be, but Scarlett didn’t want to
hope it was him, especially not today. She’d vowed not to think about him today. And if it was Julian, he was five weeks late. Scarlett might have thought he’d died, except she’d had Tella ask Legend about it, and he’d confirmed Julian was still alive. Though he didn’t say where his brother was, or why he’d failed to contact Scarlett.
“Would you do me a favor?” Scarlett said to the servant. “My mother is still unwell. She doesn’t need anything, but I hate to leave her alone. While I’m out, would you check on her every half hour in case she wakes?”
Scarlett handed the girl a coin. Then she quietly crept down the stairs, heart in her throat, hoping despite her better judgment that Julian had finally returned and had missed her as much as she missed him. She kept her steps quiet, but the moment she entered the parlor, she forgot how to move. Julian’s eyes met hers from across the room.
Everything was suddenly warmer than it had been before. The parlor walls grew smaller and hotter, as if too much sunlight had snuck in through the windows, covering all the tattered bookshelves and chairs in the sort of hazy afternoon light that left the entire world out of focus, except for him.
He looked perfect.
Scarlett could have easily been convinced he’d just escaped from a fresh painting. The tips of his dark hair were wet, his amber eyes were shining, and his lips parted in a devastating smile.
This was the boy of Scarlett’s dreams.
Of course, Julian probably starred in the dreams of half the girls on the continent as well.
All of her earlier feelings from before transformed into flames of fiery tangerine. Julian couldn’t see her colors, but Scarlett didn’t want to reveal her feelings with other tells. She didn’t want her knees growing weak, or her cheeks turning to blush. And yet she couldn’t stop her heart from racing at the sight of him, as if she were preparing to chase him should he run away. Which he had.
He must have been somewhere even warmer than here. His unusually crisp shirtsleeves were neatly rolled up, showing off lean arms. One forearm had a wide white bandage on it that contrasted with his skin, which was several shades darker than his natural golden brown, tanned from wherever Legend had sent him last. The neatly trimmed stubble lining his jaw was thicker and longer than she remembered as well, and covered part of the thin scar that ran from his eye to his jaw. He didn’t wear a coat, but he had on a gray vest with shiny silver buttons that matched the lines of fancy thread on the sides of his
deep blue trousers, which were tucked into brand-new leather boots. When she’d first met Julian, he’d looked like a scoundrel, but now he was pure gentleman.
“Hello, Crimson.”
Her dress reacted immediately. Scarlett willed it not to shift and betray any of her feelings, but the gown had always liked Julian. The first time she’d put on the dress, back on Legend’s isle, she’d been embarrassed to undress in front of Julian, and a little disappointed because the dress had looked like a dreary rag. Then she’d put it on, and when she turned and looked at Julian, the gown had transformed into a confection of lace and seductive colors, as if it had somehow known that this was the boy whose heart she needed to win.
Scarlett couldn’t see her reflection now, but she could feel the gown shifting. Warm air brushed her décolletage as the dress’s neckline lowered. The skirt tightened to hug the curve of her hips, and the fabric’s color deepened to the ravenous pink of lips longing to be kissed.
Julian’s grin turned wolfish, reminding her of the night he’d first whisked her off her home isle of Trisda. But despite the hungry look in his eyes, he made no move to close the space between them. His elbow rested against a cracked display case as a fresh ray of sunlight streamed through the window, gilding all his edges in gold and making him look even more untouchable.
Scarlett wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but she didn’t move from the doorway. “When did you return?” she asked coolly.
“A week ago.”
And you’re only visiting now? Scarlett wanted to ask. But she reminded herself that she was the one who’d first put a wedge between them when she’d told him she wanted to meet her former fiancé.
Julian had said he understood, had said he wanted her to do whatever she needed. But then he’d been sent away on another errand from Legend.
I won’t be able to write, but it will only take one week, he’d promised.
One week had turned into two, then three, then four, then five weeks without so much as a note from him to say he was still alive. She wasn’t sure if it was because he’d given up on her or if he’d forgotten about her because he was so busy working for Legend.
Julian pulled at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, bringing Scarlett’s attention back to the bandage wrapped around his arm.
“Were you wounded?” Was that why he hadn’t come by? “What happened to your arm?”
“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.
But Scarlett would have sworn he blushed. She didn’t even know Julian was capable of blushing. He had no shame. He moved through the world with utter confidence. But his cheeks were definitely flushed, and his eyes refused to meet hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner.”
“It’s all right,” Scarlett said. “I’m sure you’re very busy with whatever Legend has you doing.” Her gaze flickered once more to the mysterious bandage around his arm and then up to his eyes, which still declined to meet hers. “It’s nice of you to stop by. It’s good to see you.” She itched to say so much more, but she could hear the carriage horses neighing outside. Scarlett needed to leave before she mucked things up with Nicolas. “I’d love to chat, but unfortunately I was about to step out.”
Julian shoved away from the display cabinet. “If you’re going to enjoy the festival, I’ll join you.” It was the polite statement of a friend. But Scarlett’s feelings for Julian had always been too strong for friendship, even when she’d first met him and hadn’t liked him at all. Scarlett and Julian could never just be friends. She needed more from him, or she needed him to let her go.
“I’m not going to the festival,” Scarlett said. “I’m finally going to meet Nicolas.”
Julian’s expression fell. It only lasted a moment. If Scarlett had torn her eyes from him for a second, she would have missed it. Almost as soon as he heard what she said, Julian walked past her to the boardinghouse front door. She expected him to leave, to let her go and close the door on them completely.
Instead he opened it with an oddly pleasant smile. “That’s perfect,” he said, cheerful, as if she’d just told him they were having coconut cake for dinner. “I can be your chaperone.”
“I don’t need a chaperone.” “Do you already have one?”
Scarlett glared. “You and I never had one.”
“Exactly.” With a smug grin, he swaggered past her to the idling carriage and opened that door as well. But rather than wait for her to enter, Julian slipped into the coach.
Scarlett’s emotions were searing as she entered the coach and took the seat across from him. Julian might have started dressing like a gentleman, but he was still behaving like a scoundrel. She’d have understood his frustrating behavior if he’d made any effort to contact her over the past five weeks, or if he’d tried to fight for her after she’d told him that she wanted to give Nicolas another chance as well, but it seemed all Julian wanted to do was fight against
her.
“You’re trying to sabotage this,” she accused.
“I’d say I’d never do that, but that would be a lie.” Julian lounged back in his seat, spreading out the way young men always seemed to. Since the streets of Valenda weren’t made for coaches, this box was particularly narrow, with barely enough room for the two of them. But Julian stretched his arms across the brocade cushions, and kicked out his legs to take up more than half the space.
Scarlett grabbed one of his knees, knocked it into the other, and pointed toward the door as the carriage began to rumble down the road. “Get out, Julian.”
“No.” His arms dropped from the cushion and he leaned forward. “I’m not leaving, Crimson. We’ve spent enough time apart.” He placed his hand on top of hers and pressed it firmly to his knee.
Scarlett tried to pull away, but it was in the halfhearted way someone did something when they were actually hoping someone would stop them.
And Julian did. He slipped his brown fingers between hers and held on tighter than he ever had, as if making up for all the weeks he hadn’t been able to touch her. “While I was gone, I tried to remember every word you ever said to me. I’ve thought about you every hour of every day I was away.”
Scarlett fought the urge to smile. It was everything she had wanted to hear. But Julian had always excelled at knowing what to say. It was following through where he fell apart. “Then why didn’t you write?”
“You told me you wanted space to meet your count.”
“I didn’t want that much space. For five weeks I heard nothing from you. I thought that you’d forgotten about me or moved on.” She tried not to sound too accusing or too desperate. She felt as if she’d failed at both, and yet Julian’s earnest expression didn’t waver. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown, and warmer than the light slipping through the carriage windows.
“I won’t ever move on, Crimson.” He took her hand and brought it to his heart.
Scarlett’s heart beat wild and uneven in response, but Julian’s remained steady and unwavering beneath her palm.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I gave you space, because I thought that’s what you needed. But I realized as soon as I saw you today that I was wrong. So I’m in this carriage with you now, ready to go wherever you’re going, even if it means watching you with another man.”
Scarlett crashed back to reality. For a moment she’d forgotten about
Nicolas.
“What if I don’t want you to watch me with another man?” she said.
“I’m not thrilled about the idea, either.” Julian’s tone turned teasing, but his fingers tensed as the carriage rattled over a bumpy road. They were nearing the edge of the city, and drawing closer to Nicolas’s estate.
“If you really want me to leave, I’ll get out of this coach and walk back to the palace,” Julian said. “But you should know that I’m also here because I don’t trust this count.”
“Do you trust me?” Scarlett said.
“With my life. But I’ve met your father and I have a difficult time putting faith in anyone who would make a deal with him.”
“Nicolas isn’t like that.”
When Scarlett had first written Nicolas after learning she’d not truly met him during Caraval, he had been away from the continent mourning her. Her father had lied and said Scarlett and her sister had both died in an accident. He had no idea what a horrible man Marcello Dragna was.
And Nicolas was nothing like her father. He was drawings of plants, and anecdotes about his dog, Timber. He was a rule-follower like her; he believed in tradition so much he’d waited until today to meet her. Nicolas was safe. Scarlett couldn’t see him breaking her heart. Julian had already broken her heart twice, and even if Julian didn’t intentionally do it again, her heart would break for him eventually.
When Scarlett had first written Nicolas she’d only wanted to meet him, to cure her curiosity. Then Julian had left for so long, and Nicolas’s letters had been there when Julian hadn’t. Steady when Julian had been unreliable.
As a part of Caraval, Julian was ageless. He could die and stay dead if someone killed him when a game wasn’t in play, but he would never grow old as long as he was one of Legend’s performers. Scarlett could never ask him to give that up.
She didn’t know if Legend would still hold the games now that he was to become emperor. But given how Julian had just disappeared for weeks, it was clear Legend still controlled him. Any future Scarlett and Julian might have together was destined not to last. And yet even knowing all of this, she couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand away from his.
“I don’t want you to walk back to the palace,” she said. “But if you ruin this, I swear on the stars, I will never speak to you again. The count has to believe you’re a chaperone. We can tell him that you’re my cousin.”
“That’s not going to work unless you’re fine with him believing you have
an inappropriate relationship with your cousin.” Julian darted closer and pressed a quick kiss to her neck.
Scarlett felt her cheeks go red. “Don’t you dare do anything like that!”
He lounged back, laughing hard enough to shake the carriage. “I was only kidding, Crimson, although now I’m tempted to follow through.”
