Days later, Evangeline’s heart was still racing. She didn’t want to think about the contents of the Valory Arch. She didn’t want to wonder at its secrets. She didn’t want to remember how desperate the old librarian had sounded when he’d said, If you only knew the truth.
“We’re running out of time,” Havelock said, voice gruff, as their coach rumbled down another cobbled street frosted in white-blue snow.
Havelock had been Apollo’s personal guard, but now he acted as Evangeline’s escort while the two of them covertly searched for a remedy for Apollo’s condition. During the last week, they’d visited mystics and apothecaries, doctors of medicine and physicians of the mind. They’d opened previously locked doors and entered libraries full of fables, but none of them had offered any help. “No one has been in a suspended state since the days of Honora Valor,” was the general refrain, followed by curious stares that prompted quick departures.
No one knew Prince Apollo was still alive, and word of it could not get out. Apollo was too vulnerable in his current state. As far as the public was concerned, Prince Tiberius, Apollo’s younger brother, had murdered him. Evangeline felt
a pinprick of guilt, knowing this was false. But since Tiberius had tried to kill her, she didn’t feel all that guilty.
“This might be our last chance to save him,” Havelock said.
Evangeline knew that he wasn’t entirely right. She could always agree to open the Valory Arch for Jacks—but she hadn’t mentioned that to Havelock. She still hoped there was another way to save Apollo.
“Have you seen the latest scandal sheet?” Havelock asked.
“I’ve been trying to avoid it,” Evangeline replied. Yet she took the rolled page when Havelock held it out across the chilly coach.
The Daily Rumor
ALL HAIL LUCIEN JARETH ACADIAN
By Kristof Knightlinger
The newest heir to the throne, Lucien Jareth of House Acadian, is scheduled to arrive in Valorfell tomorrow, and already there are more rumors about him than I can keep track of. I’ve heard that when he’s not building homes for the poor or finding families to take in stray dogs and kittens, he’s teaching orphans how to read.
Our royal liaison at Wolf Hall has also confirmed that preparations for the next Nocte Neverending are already underway.
Evangeline stopped reading, unable to stomach more. It had been like this for the last week. As soon as she had been cleared of murder, the papers had switched to printing stories about the new heir to the throne, a distant cousin of Apollo’s, Lucien Jareth Acadian. The tales were always treacle sweet, making this Lucien person sound more saint than man.
“I wonder how much of this is actually true,” she mused.
“Don’t know,” said Havelock. “I think the only thing we can count on is that he will arrive tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
The word suddenly sounded so menacing. Even if this Lucien really was a paragon of virtue who loved orphans and spent his time saving puppies, he’d still be taking Apollo’s throne tomorrow. Unless Evangeline cured her prince today.
“You don’t have to worry,” Evangeline said with more confidence than she felt. “LaLa will be able to help us.”
The coach stopped as it reached the spires. To Evangeline, the twisting towers of flats and shops looked like stacks of snow-dusted fairytales.
This was where Ariel “LaLa” Lagrimas lived. Also known as the Unwed Bride, LaLa was a Fate, like Jacks—except she was Evangeline’s friend. When Evangeline had been poisoned by Tiberius, LaLa had been the one to cure her, and Evangeline desperately hoped LaLa could do the same for Apollo.
Evangeline had actually come to visit LaLa straightaway, but the sign outside of her flat had said Off Adventuring! Evangeline didn’t know where her friend had gone adventuring, but she’d sent royal soldiers to watch for her return—which, according to them, had happened that morning.
Evangeline’s breath came out in puffy white clouds as she climbed the steps to LaLa’s. She’d never noticed before, but the railings had lines from stories carved into them. Things like:
Once upon a time, there was a girl with a furry tail that
twitched whenever snow was coming.
And, Once there was a house where laughter constantly curled from the chimney instead of smoke.
LaLa’s flat actually felt like the sort of home that unbidden laughter might float out of. The front was a cheery
speckled yellow, with a rounded white door that had a dragon-head knocker.
“Oh, my precious friend!” LaLa opened the door before Evangeline could knock, a blur of smiles and warmth as she captured Evangeline in the sort of hug that made it seem as if they’d known each other a lifetime instead of merely a few weeks. “You chose the perfect time for a visit. I have so much to tell you.”
While Havelock stood guard outside, LaLa ushered Evangeline into the flat with steps that bordered on bubbly, though her living quarters felt quite the opposite. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Evangeline saw that it was not the same warm, welcoming space it had been before. The fireplace was vacant. The bright furniture remained, but the walls were naked and the tables were bare. Even LaLa’s little birdcage lanterns were gone, save for one that rested atop a stack of packed trunks waiting beside the door.
“You’re leaving?” Evangeline felt a great jab of disappointment. She hoped her assumption was wrong, but even LaLa’s clothes seemed to confirm it. Usually, LaLa wore sequins or feathers or shimmering mermaid skirts, but today, her dress was the sedate color of fresh cream, with long sleeves that concealed the dragon flames tattooed on her brown arms. The gown was floor-length, as was the fashion in the Magnificent North, but when she stepped toward the sofa, Evangeline glimpsed a pair of heeled travel boots peeking out from the hem.
“I’ve been bursting to tell you—I’m engaged!” LaLa thrust out her arm, showing off a thick engagement cuff— gold and gleaming, and as pretty as the ecstatic smile now curling LaLa’s lips. “His name is Lord Robin Slaughterwood. It’s a rather ghastly surname, I know. But it’s not as if I’ll actually be adopting it. Since you know…” LaLa trailed off with a laugh that Evangeline would not have expected.
LaLa had once confessed to Evangeline that Fates were always fighting the urge to be that which they were made to be. LaLa was the Unwed Bride, therefore her primary desire was to find someone to love her, even though she was always destined to be left at the altar, crying tears so powerful that if a human drank them, they would die of heartbreak. And yet here LaLa was with a fresh engagement cuff and hope filling her pretty eyes.
“I’m so happy for you!” Evangeline said. And she was a little surprised to find that she meant it. If Evangeline had been in this same place months ago, she might have asked LaLa if she really thought this brief happiness was worth the inevitable heartbreak. People called it heartbreak, but Evangeline thought that losing someone you loved broke more than just a heart. When she had lost her first love, it had shattered her entire world. And yet, despite all of that pain, here she was, hoping not just to save Apollo’s life but to have another chance at love with him.
“I hope Slaughterwood Castle is near,” Evangeline said. “I would love to be able to visit.”
“I would adore that.” LaLa glowed. “Slaughterwood Castle is only one day’s journey away, and I’ve requested a long engagement, so hopefully, I’ll be able to throw lots of parties.”
LaLa’s boots clacked across the wood floor as she went to one of her trunks and pulled out a beehive cake—because of course she had cake packed away—along with cutlery and golden plates shaped like hearts.
Evangeline knew she needed to ask about a cure for Apollo. As Havelock had reminded her, she didn’t have much time. But celebrating another person’s joy was important, and LaLa was her only friend in the North.
Evangeline gave herself a few minutes to enjoy the cake along with her friend’s happiness as LaLa told the tale of
how she and Robin had met and become engaged in just a matter of days. “If you ever want to get married again, pretending to be a damsel in distress always seems to work for me in the North.”
Evangeline laughed, but it must not have been very convincing.
LaLa’s face immediately fell. Her eyes flickered over Evangeline’s gown. She’d taken off her cloak, revealing a Northern mourning gown—pure white silk covered in an elaborate design of black velvet webbing. “Oh, my friend. I’m so sorry—I forgot you’re still in mourning for Apollo. This has all been quite insensitive of me, hasn’t it?”
As a Fate, LaLa did not experience the same range of human emotions, but this was actually one of the things that Evangeline liked about her friend. While Jacks’s lack of humanity made him cold-blooded and remorseless and the bane of her existence, LaLa’s seemed to make her more authentic and forthright.
“Please don’t feel bad. I’m not truly in mourning,” Evangeline confessed, and the rest of the words all seemed to rush out. “Apollo is alive. The stories you heard about his brother poisoning him weren’t entirely true. It was actually Jacks who did it—he put Apollo in a state of suspended sleep to manipulate me.” Evangeline wasn’t sure how much LaLa knew about the Valory Arch. Apollo had once told her that the Northerners believed the story to be more fairytale than fact, and very few people knew what the prophecy was. So Evangeline explained almost everything. “Jacks believes I’m prophesied to be the one key capable of unlocking the arch, and he said that he’ll only cure Apollo if I find the stones and open the arch for him.”
“Oh my.” LaLa paled, skin going gray as her eyes took on
a doe-like fright.
It was the first time Evangeline had ever seen her close to scared.
“Don’t worry,” Evangeline said quickly. “I’m not planning on opening the arch for Jacks. I came here to see if you could cure Apollo.”
“I’m so sorry, my friend. Although I do know a bit about potions and spells, the ones I’ve used were not generally for good, and I’ve never put anyone in a suspended state. It’s very old magic. I believe Honora Valor would use it during wars when there were too many people to mend at once. She’d suspend those that she and her other healers couldn’t get to right away.”
Evangeline tried not to be disappointed. This was more or less what other healers had told her. “Are you sure you don’t know anything else? I’ll take any information you have. The new heir arrives tomorrow and—”
“You should open the arch for Jacks,” LaLa interrupted.
“What?” Evangeline thought perhaps she’d misunderstood. Moments ago, Evangeline would have sworn that LaLa had looked haunted. But now her gaze was clear.
Had Evangeline misread her before, or was she misreading her now?
“Don’t you want to save Apollo?” LaLa asked.
Evangeline felt a shiver of guilt. There were moments when she asked herself this question as well. She wanted to save him, but sometimes she feared she didn’t want it enough. She couldn’t say that she and Apollo were in love. But she did feel a tie to him. They were connected. She wasn’t sure if it was a remnant of Jacks’s love spell, if it was their marriage vows, or if Fate had simply entwined their paths, but she knew her future was linked to his.
She thought of the letter she’d tucked away in her pocket, the one she’d memorized because she’d read it so much.
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Evangeline had found the note in Apollo’s chamber after she’d been cleared of his murder. At first, the words had made her cry. Then the words had made her hope.
Apollo had been under a love spell the entire time they’d been engaged, but she swore there were moments of affection that had felt real between them. This letter felt like confirmation of that. It felt real and made her believe even more that Apollo had truly experienced times when he wasn’t under a spell. This letter didn’t feel like the writing of a bewitched young man, it felt like a genuine glimpse of the prince—a prince who felt the same way she did.
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to save Apollo, except for opening the arch for Jacks. You can’t really think I should do that?”
LaLa pursed her lips, looking briefly torn. But when she spoke again, her voice was resolute and clear and perfectly disturbing. “The Valory does not hold what you think. If I were you, I would open the arch.”
“You know what’s inside it?” Evangeline asked.
“The Valory is either a treasure chest, which protects the Valors’ greatest magical gifts, or it’s a door to an enchanted prison that locks away all manner of magic beings, including an abomination that the Valors created—” LaLa broke off with a scowl. “I hate this story curse.”
She set her half-finished cake on the table with a loud clack, took Evangeline’s hands, and then appeared to concentrate very hard. But this time, when she tried to tell Evangeline what she believed was in the arch, the only words that came out were gibberish.
