by Sarah Cross
“And I’d have no choice but to go.”
“That’s right.”
Viv wondered what Garnet’s curse was, or whether she even had one. She was trying to decide if it would be rude to ask. Garnet seemed pretty chatty and welcoming, but people could be sensitive about their curses.
“Do you like chocolate, Viv? Marzipan? Jasper, get one of my candy boxes down, will you?” Garnet pointed at her bookshelves. “I make him put them up too high for me to reach so I don’t eat them all at once and make myself sick. Am I talking too much? I am. Sorry. It’s just, there’s never anyone to talk to. Other than Jasper, I mean. Never anyone new.”
Jasper opened a two-tiered candy box and held it out to them. “And aside from being her candy fetcher and an audience for her bad jokes, I’m next to worthless to this girl.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Garnet sighed. “If only Minuet could be here. Then it would be perfect.”
“Minuet?” Viv asked.
“Minuet is one of the Twelve Dancing Princesses,” Jasper said. “The one without a partner.”
“My princess,” Garnet said. “Didn’t Jasper introduce you?”
“We met,” Viv said, wondering why Jasper had failed to mention it. “I must have missed her name. Um—” Viv hesitated.
“Yes?” Garnet said.
“You’re not at the club. But you have a Twelve Dancing Princesses curse? How does that work?”
“I’ll show you.” Garnet lifted the skirt of her dress to reveal one pale leg ending in a satin slipper. “I had both legs when the fairy marked me, but I lost one to an accident when I was nine. And since losing a leg or a foot breaks a dancing curse, I’m no longer compelled to dance. But there’s a princess who’s meant for me, and I still believe we’re destined to be together. I can’t woo her on the dance floor, so Jasper keeps her company most nights. He’ll have less time now that you’re here, but I don’t begrudge him that. He’s been my hero long enough—haven’t you, Jasper?”
Jasper gave a weary smile. “I suppose.”
“So you’ve never met your princess?” Viv said. “You haven’t gone to the club to talk to her?”
“No. I would like to. I have thought of doing that, but—I don’t like to leave my room. I don’t like to be out where my father might see me. I prefer to stay out of sight, out of mind. So he can’t find anything else wrong with me, and—fix it.”
Garnet looked away, and the pain on her face was clear enough that Viv knew better than to ask what she meant. But she wanted to. She was trying to put things together, figure out who Jasper’s father was and whether he was a villain or just an overly critical parent. Materialistic, bad relationship with kids, helps people …
“I just have to wait and hope that Minuet and her sisters decide to stay in the underworld.” Garnet hugged a red velvet pillow to her chest. “This curse is full of damsels in distress. The Twelve Dancing Princesses are waiting for someone to seal the door to the underworld and end this. And meanwhile my brothers and I are waiting for our princesses to choose us—so we don’t have to spend our lives alone and unloved. You’re so lucky. You and Jasper both. You’ll have the fairy-tale ending everyone wants.”
“We are lucky,” Jasper said, taking Viv’s hand.
Viv tried to smile. She didn’t feel lucky; her curse had torn her life apart. But she knew she was luckier than some. Her prince was here, introducing her to his sister, trying to include her in his life. There were Snow Whites who had it much worse.
“Even if your princess doesn’t decide to stay,” Viv said, “that doesn’t mean you’ll be alone your whole life. There are other princesses. Other girls.”
“Oh, but they couldn’t stay. They wouldn’t. Maybe they could come for six months and then go away for six months, lessen the toll, but … I wouldn’t want them to.”
Viv was about to ask what Garnet meant—she thought she knew—when Jasper cut in with:
“Do you want to hear about tonight? You might not be able to see Minuet, but she had plenty to say to you.”
Garnet’s gloom relented, and a smile returned to her face. “Tell me what she was wearing. Tell me everything.”
Jasper spun an elaborate story about his night with Minuet, up to the time Viv had arrived at the club. It was full of inside jokes, sweet messages from Minuet to Garnet, a list of the songs Jasper and Minuet had danced to, a careful description of the twelve princesses’ clothes … and Garnet listened, rapt, her laugh springing to life whenever Jasper relayed something particularly funny or cute.
Viv didn’t interrupt. She let Jasper tell his story, and eventually the conversation moved to other things. It wasn’t until they’d said their good-byes to Garnet and were descending the stairs that Viv asked, “Why do you lie to her?”
Jasper stopped midway down the staircase. He glanced up, as if to check that Garnet wasn’t in the corridor, listening. Then he resumed his descent. “Because it’s kinder than the truth.”
“Does Minuet even like Garnet? Does she know about her?”
“She knows about her. She likes her about as much as she likes you, or me, or anyone who isn’t forced to dance. Maybe she likes Garnet less, because Garnet’s supposed to share that misery with her. But it’s hard to explain that Garnet’s afraid to leave the palace. That she feels truly safe in one place and that’s where she stays. It’s not the kind of thing that would endear her to Minuet.”
“Why is she so afraid? Is it because of her accident?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. But even so—why would you create this fake love story for her?”
“Because I want Garnet to be happy. And telling her that her princess is an angry mess who hates her isn’t going to do that.”
“Jasper—”
“Please don’t lecture me about this. You barely know us. You don’t know what our lives are like.”
At the bottom of the staircase, Viv’s shoes made a final clack on the marble floor. “No, I don’t.”
They stood awkwardly in the gold-drenched hall, not meeting each other’s eyes. The blazing candlelight made Viv feel like she was on a stage being watched by an audience of their reflections.
“Do you want to go back to the club?” Jasper asked.
“Let’s just … go.”
Viv was quiet as they started down the steep path. From this height, the silver trees looked like a forest of knives—less enchanting, and more like something you wouldn’t want to fall into. The silver lake was a mirror blurred by ripples. Guests trickled from the shore to the club, faceless figures in red and orange, and boats cut through the water like insects.
Viv was tempted to give Jasper the silent treatment, but she wanted information more than she wanted that tiny victory.
“Jasper … why is Garnet afraid of your father?”
“Because of what he did. After her accident.”
“What happened to her?”
Jasper motioned to the distant darkness that merely hinted at a landscape. “Beyond the trees, that way, there’s a pit. We were forbidden to play there because it was dangerous. We did it, anyway. And one day a chunk of stone came loose and hit Garnet. It crushed her leg.”
“Oh my god.”
“It was awful. I thought she might die, or lose her leg, and I knew my father would punish us for disobeying him. But I thought if anything could help her, it was magic. So I brought her to my father, because he had magic.”
“He’s a—” Not a fairy. Not a witch. Viv tried to think—who else had magic?
But Jasper kept going. Either he hadn’t heard her, or he didn’t want to interrupt his story. A sigh punched out of him, like the next words were going to be painful to say.
“When I say my father, I don’t want you to picture a man who teaches his children to play baseball and comforts them when they have nightmares. We saw him around the palace and at meals, but he was more like an overlord than anything else. We were afraid of displeasing him, of drawing his attention for
any reason. I knew he would be angry, but I thought he could help her. I didn’t understand then that his magic has limits.
“It turned out that he couldn’t heal Garnet. And he was furious—both because we’d broken his rules and because his perfect daughter wasn’t perfect anymore. He couldn’t bear to see her like that, but it wasn’t the anguish of a father who sees his child in pain. It was the reaction of a collector whose priceless piece of art has been ruined by a childish mistake.
“He wanted the offending part gone. So he summoned a doctor to amputate her leg. Not to examine her, or try to save her leg. No—that wouldn’t be enough of a punishment. I was made to stay and watch. He said if I didn’t stand there quietly and give the doctor room to work, he’d get the executioner to do it.”
“Executioner?”
“That’s my father for you. He has to call out for a doctor, but he keeps an executioner on staff.”
“God.” Viv shuddered.
“Afterward, he said it was a mercy. That if Garnet had kept her leg, it would never be useful to her, it would only bring her pain. The curse would force her to dance and she would suffer. But with her damaged leg gone, her curse was broken. It was like he wanted us to thank him. To acknowledge his foresight. And generosity.”
Jasper’s jaw was tight. Viv laid her hand on his arm and kept it there as they walked. They were nearing the club now. She could make out the details on people’s costumes, but she didn’t think anyone could hear their conversation.
“Why can’t your sister just leave? Why is everyone who lives here trapped?”
“That’s the way my father wants it. This is his kingdom; those are his rules. He’s afraid no one will come back to him. He’s not like the Beast. The Beast can let his Beauty go, and hope she’ll return—because he loves her. My father never learned to love. He won’t free anyone.”
“He shouldn’t treat you like prisoners.”
“Shouldn’t?” Jasper laughed. “He doesn’t live according to rules like that. He doesn’t have to.”
Viv walked down to the lakeshore, far enough that the silver water lapped at the toes of her shoes, sparkling and ruby red, like a cruel joke: there’s no place like home. Jasper had told her she’d be safe in the underworld—safe from Regina and Henley. But maybe true safety was impossible.
“So you’re telling me that if I come here, I’ll have to live under the thumb of your ruthless father. If everyone’s powerless against him, that means I am and you are, too.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Viv …” He turned her toward him. “My father wouldn’t hurt you. The Huntsman, your stepmother—they will hurt you. But in the underworld, I can keep you safe. It’s my destiny, and … my second chance. To protect you the way I couldn’t protect my sister. I won’t fail you.”
“But how do you know? How do you know any of that? If your father would do that to his own daughter …”
“I’m different now. I’m not a child anymore. I would never let him hurt you. But I also know that he wouldn’t hurt you. He wants you here as much as I do. You’ll be my queen one day. The queen of this whole dark kingdom.” He smiled, almost self-consciously. “It might not be what you dreamed of, but I think you’ll find that it suits you. I know, even if my brothers don’t believe it, that the twelve princesses are never going to stay here. You are destined to be queen. With your hair as black as night and your lips—almost—as red as blood …”
He touched her face. She could see he wasn’t nervous now; he was warming up to the idea: the two of them side by side, ruling. Viv could almost imagine herself, not as a weak, pathetic princess, but as a queen, strong and finally in control. She thought back to what Owen had told her, and how she’d felt like maybe she could be the one to free him, free all the people who were trapped down here.
“Your father would give up his throne that easily? Power-mad control freaks don’t usually step aside.”
“Well, not right away. We’d want some time to ourselves first. But my father, as difficult as he can be, very much wants there to be a new generation here. New life. A larger family.”
“I think your family is large enough.”
“What I’m trying to say is—”
“I know what you’re trying to say. He wants grandchildren. But I haven’t even kissed you yet. So could we please not talk about babies?”
Jasper flushed—even in the underworld gloom it was obvious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Let’s just not get ahead of ourselves.” She took a deep breath. “Um. On that note. I’m going to go now. But I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Jasper reached into his jacket for an invitation. “Then I’ll look forward to it. The theme is Winter, by the way.”
“Can I have two? I want to bring my friend Jewel.”
“Of course. You can bring anyone you want. I should have offered sooner.” He gave her two invitations: black cards with silver script. “Although—when I said you could bring anyone, I meant anyone but the Huntsman.”
“Oh. I wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want to come here, anyway.”
Viv looked down, feeling awkward, and Jasper pulled her into his arms. It felt nice, but also poorly timed. The rush of heat came with a rush of sadness. She was already starting to feel lost at the mention of Henley, knowing he could never be a part of her life here—that if she chose the underworld and Jasper, Henley would never be hers again. So she was startled when Jasper said, “Can I kiss you before you go?”
She’d never kissed—really kissed—anyone besides Henley. And she didn’t want to pretend.
“Not now,” she said. “Not tonight.”
“Oh … all right …”
She hugged him quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then she stepped into a waiting gondola and let the boatman ferry her across the lake.
When she finally reached the surface, a warm, misty rain was coming down and there was no one to meet her. The alley was empty, quiet except for the hiss of rain and the splash of cars speeding across wet pavement. Viv had fifty dollars tucked inside her bra. She took it out and stepped into the street to hail a cab.
The cab pulled up to her house a little after three in the morning. She hadn’t kissed Jasper, hadn’t done anything really—so she didn’t know why guilt was the first thing she felt when she tiptoed into her room, and found Henley sitting on her bed in the dark, Regina’s jeweled knife in his hand.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VIV WALKED TOWARD THE BED, slipping off her shoes as she went, like she had all the time in the world to be murdered.
Moonlight poured through the open French doors, framing Henley in silhouette—broad shoulders, a body solid with muscle. The curtains fluttered like doves’ wings, and so did Viv’s heart.
She’d felt guilty at first, because she’d let him believe she wasn’t going to the underworld; but the longer he stayed silent, the less guilty she felt. Henley didn’t need a knife to kill her. He could do it with his bare hands. So what was this? Was he trying to scare her?
She steeled herself to be as cold and sharp as the knife.
“You’re going to make a mess if you do it here,” she said. “And if you think I’m going into the woods with you, I’m not. I’m tired. I’ve been dancing with my prince all night. But I guess you knew that.”
“Yeah, I bet you had a great time. Was he worth it?”
“More than worth it.”
“You really don’t give a shit, do you? You just go off and party. You don’t tell me anything. I have to find out—”
“I don’t have to tell you anything. I told you enough this morning. Clearly, that was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Henley dropped the knife. “Yeah, you’re full of those.”
She tensed, but didn’t back away as he came near her; and when his fingers closed around her wrist she could feel the emotion in his touch. He lifted her closed hand to his face as if it were a rose, his lips brushing her knuckles as he
said:
“Do you have a death wish? Why didn’t you tell me there was another Huntsman?”
The question startled her.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Viv.” He sighed against her hand. “You need to tell me stuff like this. I can’t control him. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”
The house was so quiet … Viv could hear their every breath, and the chorus of insects outside, the bellow of frogs, the slow creaking whir of the ceiling fan. Hot summer sweat glued their skin together. He bent his head to her hand like a prayer.
“I came here to see you. I didn’t know you were gone. And Regina invited the other Huntsman over. He talked to me like I was his apprentice.… He brought a rabbit and gutted it on the kitchen table. He said that next time, he’d bring a doe. He said it would be more like killing you.”
She put her hand over her heart instinctively, as if it were in her power to hold it there.
“You can’t stay here. He’ll always know where to find you if you do. I don’t know if your stepmom believes in me. If she doesn’t, and she orders him to kill you … I can’t save you. I won’t even know it’s happening.”
“Is that why you kept the knife? To save me?”
“I kept it because I need her to think I’m on board for this. That I”—he seemed to wrestle with the words—“want your heart … as much as she does.”
“Don’t you want it more?”
Henley didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She was his life. They were each other’s, or had been.
Viv sank down on the bed next to the dagger and pressed her fingertip to the blade. It was sharp enough to cut with the lightest touch, and a bead of blood blossomed on her skin. Out of habit, she squeezed three ruby drops into her palm. The same three drops that had inspired Snow White curses for generations.
Red as blood, white as lies.
“You can’t stay here,” Henley said.
“I’ll go to Jewel’s.”
“What’s Jewel going to do if the Huntsman kicks in her door and comes after you?”
“I don’t know. Are you planning on kicking her door down?”