King Gelum raised a finger, pointed at both women. ‘Do not take me for a fool. Confess your transgressions at once.’ Their silence thickened. The king leered at Marietta. ‘I have methods for persuading my girls to confide in me.’ He stole closer, yanked a lock of her hair free from its curled coiffure. Rubbed it between his fingers. ‘Soon I shall taste the sweetness of your secrets when they tumble from your lips as I take you apart, bit by bit.’ Marietta closed her eyes, her horror amassing into a beast, strong enough to snap her. The king pulled her hair, making her stumble into his waiting arms, his hands framing her face, forcing her to look upon him, his smile wild and ecstatic. ‘You’ll look at me when I slice your skin open,’ he whispered. ‘When I take your bones in my hands.’ Over his shoulder, she saw Legat’s knuckles whiten on his hilt. Fear iced her veins.
‘Guards!’ King Gelum snapped his fingers and Marietta saw her fate uncoil in a tableau of masked guards, a sadistic king, her life spilling from her, one blade, one scream at a time. She gave a small shake of her head to Legat, who had paled to snow, revealing several inches of blade from his sword sheath. She refused to condemn his life along with hers.
Pirlipata entered Marietta’s peripheral vision, storming towards the king in a swirl of sunsetting silks and slinking golden necklaces. ‘King Gelum,’ she declared with all the weight of her title.
He looked at her, narrowed his eyes at her imperiousness. ‘Were you involved in whatever little conspiration these two attempted?’ His hands tightened on Marietta. ‘My guards have informed me that you have formed an affectionate bond. Perhaps it would be preferable to keep you apart henceforth.’ His smile was a dark, bloody promise. It chilled Marietta down to the marrow. ‘If this one survives our playtime, that is.’
Eyeing the guards readied to seize her once King Gelum relinquished his hold on her, Marietta’s nerves lurched. She could not bear being ripped from Pirlipata and Dellara; their strength resided in their unity. Fighting as one to engender their escape. When Marietta was in their midst, the endless night didn’t feel as dark, the future as dreamless. They were her starlight, her guiding beacon.
Pirlipata stepped forward and Marietta silently pleaded with her; this was not part of the plan. Marietta and Dellara had chosen to be the ones to descend into the ice chamber so that, if caught, Pirlipata would not share the cost. She was the best of them. ‘I have thought on the matter,’ Pirlipata continued, disregarding the king’s accusations, Marietta’s shake of her head, Dellara’s hand creeping for her concealed wand. ‘And my answer is now affirmative.’ Pirlipata’s head was as high as if her armour had never been stripped from her. ‘I shall accept your hand in marriage.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marietta and Dellara were forgotten at once. King Gelum reached for Pirlipata, holding her hands in his. All the air rushed from Marietta’s lungs, deflating her. She had kept hold of the little key to another world to surprise them with. Now that foolhardy notion might cost Pirlipata everything.
Dellara’s eyes pooled into glistening, murderous black. ‘No.’ Her nails cut into her palms, bloodying them. She made to liberate her wand. Marietta snapped into action, making a bid for her hand before she could reveal it, but Dellara swept her aside, already striding for the king, her bloodlust writ upon her face. Then she stumbled. Legat had leapt forward and grasped her satin sash. ‘I would advise you reconsider,’ he said mildly, before leaning down to whisper at her. ‘—everything will have been for nothing,’ Marietta heard on the tail end of his utterance.
King Gelum escorted Pirlipata to the room behind the throne room. The guards dispersed a little.
Marietta wrung her hands. Captain Legat, having released Dellara, came to her. ‘He shall be wanting to discuss matters with her. Console yourself with the thought that no harm shall come to her now. Not now she has acquiesced to his demands,’ he said in a lowered voice.
Marietta gave a terse nod, not trusting herself to speak. Dellara had been the last to emerge from those rooms, marked with a flotilla of fresh scars.
Dellara caught her attention. ‘Tonight,’ she whispered. ‘We cannot afford to delay any longer.’
‘I’m of the same persuasion,’ Marietta said. Provided Pirlipata was returned to their suite. If she was relocated into quarters more suitable for the future queen of Everwood then they should have to liberate her first. Marietta refused to leave Pirlipata behind after she’d surrendered her freedom for them. After the king had laid bare his intentions towards Marietta, her heartbeats were measured. She glanced at Legat. His eyes lingered on her, his concern visible. A bolt of emotion fired through her. Perhaps this would be the final time she saw him.
After being escorted back to their suite by two sets of faceless guards, Marietta sat down, weary beyond her years.
Dellara wore deep tracks into the thick pile of the carpet as she paced from the frozen sugar wall back towards the centre of the suite, again and again. ‘I knew this entire scheme was a grave mistake,’ she muttered.
Marietta placed the golden key down on a table. ‘I found one.’ Dellara picked it up and examined it. ‘And if I had not thought to surprise you both with it, we would be free already and Pirlipata—’ She could not continue.
‘Would be freezing in the Endless Forest in a ballgown,’ Dellara said. ‘As would we. Think not of it again.’
As Dellara’s rage grew, so did Marietta’s nerves, climbing in intensity until she felt her skin might vibrate off her back with worry. In an effort to keep her darker, bloodier thoughts at bay, Marietta settled for disrobing. The little snow globe scenes snowed and danced as she hung her gown in one of the armoires, exchanging it for a simple cashmere dress in a soft charcoal shade. She unwound the coils from her hair until it spilled down her back in an unrecognisable mess of wild, twisting locks that released snaps of marzipan-scent each time she moved. Pulling on petal-white satin slippers, she wandered over to the sugar wall. Not for the first time, she stared into the blackness beyond its glow. When she’d first arrived in Everwood, it had enticed her. A world of enchantments sparkling beneath a midnight sky. Now, it was an impossible promise.
‘She ought to have returned by now.’ Dellara came to stand at her side, her creamy voice stripped raw. ‘Whyever did we abandon her to that monster? What if she isn’t as safe as we presumed she would be?’
‘Then we fight for her return.’ Marietta pressed her hand, a quick brush, butterfly-wing-soft. Dellara held onto her. They stood there, hands clasped in each other’s, the moment delicate as spun sugar.
The lock clicked, and Pirlipata strode through the door and opened her mouth to speak. Before she had tasted the first word, Dellara had crossed the suite and wrapped her in a fierce embrace.
‘There is no need to worry on my account; I assure you I’m perfectly fine.’ Pirlipata’s smile perished the moment it crossed her lips. ‘King Gelum has agreed to permit me one final night here as a favour to his future bride.’ Her mouth twisted like she’d bitten into something sour. ‘I need to forge my exit from this palace; I cannot, and will not, condemn myself to wedding that man.’
Dellara slid her wand out. ‘Then let’s make haste. I can ready us in a twitch of a moose’s tail. And Marietta found a golden key; we can exit the palace from this room now.’
Snow-bright panic hit Marietta. She hadn’t had the chance to return Legat’s diary, buried in the armoire. To secure one last moment with him, carving out a time and space just for them and them alone. She had known it was imminent and yet still the ferocity of her feelings stunned her. ‘I need to see him one last time,’ she whispered. ‘I need to say goodbye.’
Dellara stared at her. ‘Have you rotted your brain? You absolutely cannot meet him, least of all this very moment. Just when everything we – you’ve – worked tirelessly for is within our grasp, you wish to jeopardise it all for the sake of him?’
Pirlipata looked quizzical. ‘Say goodbye to whom?’ She touched Marietta’s shoulder in concern.
‘Marietta, we ought to leave at the soonest opportunity. Is it imperative that you seek out this farewell?’ Pirlipata asked.
Marietta wished it wasn’t. ‘I’m very sorry,’ she said, her guilt hot and sticky. ‘I am all too aware of what a great inconvenience it would be. Yet if I did not, I know in my soul that I would regret it. It would haunt me. Just a simple farewell, a final moment is all that I ask.’
‘Then you must go. We shall change our clothes and prepare before your return. Go and come back at once.’ Pirlipata smiled then. ‘And may your luck taste sweet.’
‘Has sugar-rot laid siege to both your minds?’ They looked at Dellara. She held her hands wide. ‘We’re locked inside this suite. Hence the entire point of our escape. How do you expect Marietta to leave, much less locate the captain?’
Pirlipata’s smile deepened with pleasure.
‘She has displeased me. I demand that you escort her to your captain and head of the King’s Army at once to be rightfully punished.’ Pirlipata folded her arms and stared at the faceless guards who had unlocked the door to answer her command.
Expressionless as ever, they didn’t seek guidance from each other. The slight tilt to their heads was all that unbalanced the illusion of control.
‘Or I shall report you both to King Gelum on account of disobeying your future queen,’ she added.
They launched into action. One removed Marietta from the suite, the other locking Pirlipata and Dellara back inside. She caught a final, fleeting glance of their faces, hoped her plan wouldn’t collapse in on itself, and allowed herself to be marched up the spiral. The higher they ascended, the smaller the steps grew, the greater the plummet down to the throne room, a distant jewel sparkling fathoms below. Her stomach swirled with vertigo. She had never been taken to this height before. Perhaps they had decided against escorting her to Legat and she was nearing some unknown destination instead. Perhaps they would push her from the tip and she would share Lev’s fate.
Door upon door upon door. Some shuddered, bolted closed with iron chains, preventing whatever manner of creature reigned in those worlds from creeping through. Others glittered, the air surrounding them tasting sweeter and wild. Marietta hesitated before one such door, an irresistible urge curling her fingers, tempting her to open it. The guard pushed her, forcing her onwards. A few steps more and the urge suddenly relinquished her from its noxious grasp.
The faceless guard halted without warning, rapped on a small door.
‘You may enter,’ she heard Legat command with relief strong enough to buckle her knees. It had been a most trying day. And the greatest ordeal remained to be tackled. The guard shoved her inside and shut the door behind her. She heard his boots recede down the stairs, sure in his knowledge that Marietta was due to receive the punishment she deserved and washing his hands of her. She was grateful that the doors in this world were thick and impervious to sound; it seemed eavesdropping was as foreign a concept as beds were.
She turned to a startled Legat. A scarlet stain spread up her neck upon realising she had been led to his private rooms.
Chapter Forty
It was a small room nestled within the curve of the frozen sugar wall, a pale moon-glow blue at this height. To one side resided a thick carpet with large navy cushions mountained atop, a battered notebook and quill beside it. A single garnet chaise perched next to the wall. Steam drifted through an open arch, cut into rock sugar, a small bathing pool visible beyond.
‘Marietta?’ Legat leapt up from his chaise. ‘What are you doing here?’ Still in his trousers and boots, his shirt was open, revealing glimpses of his muscular chest.
‘I’m leaving,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’m leaving tonight. I ought to have gone by now yet something held me back.’ Why had she not departed already? This was sheer idiocy. Her laugh was too bright, her hopes tinged with madness. ‘I simply could not leave without seeing you one last time.’
The glow of the wall cast a soft illuminance on Legat as he approached her. ‘Then this is goodbye.’
‘I cannot stay here, you have been all too aware of that from the start,’ she whispered as he came to a stop, his hand grazing her arm. ‘Staying here would be the end of me.’
‘I know.’ The golden flecks in his irises burnt brighter as he ran a hand through his hair, dwelling on her. ‘The stars have gifted you with such beautiful eyes,’ he murmured. ‘Blue as the rarest ice, pools I would willingly drown in.’
She bit her lip. His gaze swept down to her mouth and her breath caught. ‘I wish you could accompany me. Leave this palace and its cruelty behind. The thought of you remaining, of not knowing what might happen to you, torments me.’ Her voice cracked. It was unthinkable to realise that once she had departed Everwood, she would thus relinquish all knowledge of Legat.
He stepped towards her, rested his hands on her arms. ‘You must not dwell on such things. I am needed here and you cannot stay. Even if I were to surrender my command of the rebellion, where would I go? Return with you to your world? I could never carve out a life for myself there. And I should never forgive myself if I were the reason you ceased pursuing a life of your own. To see you dance is to witness something truly magical. You dream brighter than anyone I’ve ever met, Marietta, and it is a thing of beauty. Promise me you will not lose that for anything, anyone across the worlds.’ His hands tightened on her arms. Drew her closer to him. ‘Promise me.’
‘I promise. Someone wise once told me it was in the stars.’ She retrieved his diary from her pocket. ‘Your words have given me strength when I most needed them.’
His smile warmed her.
‘Tell me which you seek when you turn your gaze skywards,’ she said softly.
He took his diary back. ‘I favour Hethell, the scribe, and her army of writers. So called as nothing contains more power than words. The truth is a sword mightier than any weapon.’
Marietta looked up at him. ‘I would share the world with you if I could.’
‘And I you.’
His eyes burnt into hers. She stood there, waiting. Each second seemed to last an eternity. He was close enough to reach out and close that chasm between them.
‘If the king finds out I’ve touched you—’ His voice husked away into nothing, his words tasting of secret promises, heady and irresistible as chocolate.
‘He won’t,’ Marietta whispered.
The door slammed open.
‘Captain, the king requires your presence in—’ Claren halted in the doorframe. He looked at Legat and Marietta as if the vision might dissipate the harder he stared at it before regaining his senses and stepping into the room, swiftly closing the door behind himself.
Legat stood to attention, buttoning his shirt in haste. ‘Have you so little respect to come bursting in here in such a manner?’
Scarletting, Marietta smoothed her hair, attempting to smooth her fractured composure together.
Claren coughed. Covered it with a fist that failed to hide the twitching corners of his mouth as he retrieved the captain’s jacket from behind the desk. ‘I believe this is what you’re looking for?’ he asked wryly. Captain Legat yanked it from his hand with a sharp look. ‘I’ll escort you back,’ Claren told Marietta.
Legat shrugged his jacket on. ‘That shall not be necessary,’ he said at once.
Claren looked at him. ‘How many times have the two of you been seen together? We all heard the palace gossip that reigned for a month after that dance.’ He hesitated then. ‘I’ll give you a moment alone.’
‘Fine.’ Legat finished fixing his jacket, in full livery once more as he stood before Marietta.
Claren closed the door behind himself.
Legat’s eyes lingered on hers. She painted them in her memory; their butterscotch shade, how they softened when he gazed at her, the flecks of gold in h
is irises that the light was so fond of toying with. He reached for her hand and held it between his. ‘I shall never forget you.’
‘Nor I you,’ she whispered, looking up at him, her throat thick. ‘Goodbye, Captain Legat.’
His thumb stroked a path down her hand, his eyes afire. ‘Farewell, my wanderer,’ he murmured.
She stood on demi-pointe and pressed her lips against his soft, full mouth. He started and she stepped back, mortified at her own forwardness. ‘Forgive me,’ she said, ‘I was under the impression—’
Legat took her in his arms and kissed her. It resembled nothing of the gentle kisses she had been imagining. It was wild and raw and passionate. Swept her away on a wave of longing as she pressed the length of her body against his, Legat holding her there tightly.
Claren re-entered. ‘As much as I hate to hasten you, we have a matter of urgency to attend to, captain.’
Legat tore himself away from Marietta to glance at Claren with a sudden frown. He pushed the door back open. Shouts echoed up the staircase.
A curl of scarlet ribbon drifted down the core of the palace.
Marietta inhaled. ‘Is that—’
‘We’re receiving reports from the town, captain. It appears the ice prison is on the brink of collapse. The red rebellion has galvanised the Everwoodians and they are dismantling it, block by block.’
Marietta followed Legat and Claren onto the staircase. A second scarlet curl fell. It fluttered past Marietta’s face from above. When she looked up, the air was littered with falling ribbons.
Legat’s smile looked like freedom.
Claren looked uncertain. ‘Captain? What are your orders?’
‘The truth of the matter is that a king such as Gelum fails to pay attention to the people whom he deems lower than him. Insignificant. Even when they number far greater than the total sum of his soldiers and guards. And that is a fatal mistake,’ Legat said. His smile grew.
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