Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Red Willow
T he Willow Estate was a lavish home, but it lacked the grandeur of the Dark Palace. In fact, it had been left in disrepair for quite some time.
Scarlett quickly learned that this was the place where Amina lived while pregnant with her quadruplets. She’d been forbidden from setting foot in the palace, all because of her mother-in-law—the very same woman Amina had strung up by her entrails when power surged through her veins.
The Willow Estate earned its name after the death of Jasmine Singh, the youngest of the Heirs, a would-be Fifth if she survived. But then the terrible rumors of the Jinn With Many Faces returned, tales of how Josephine set a bassinet on fire just to see if the babe would scream.
Liam touched the small of Scarlett’s back, making her jump. “I can’t go further.”
“You’ve already done so much. What’s walking a girl to her front door?” she joked.
Liam merely said: “I only compromised my own safety because the First Heir sought to dispose of you. When Josephine came with her proposition, I knew I had to take it. I don’t trust her. I don’t trust any of them…but I love you. You’re my friend, Darling Scar. And whatever happens, I want you to be safe.” He gestured towards the door and added, “Knock three times when you’re ready.”
Scarlett shed enough tears to last a lifetime, and while she couldn’t surmise anymore, she hugged Liam, breathing her love into him. She felt secure when his arms wrapped around her waist, when his hand flattened against her back and left an everlasting impression when he left.
He’d settled in his car when she did as she was told, rapping her knuckles against a panel made from onyx and steel three times in all. The door then opened of its own accord and let in a stream of light from outside. It also closed when Scarlett stepped over the threshold, losing herself in the delicate furnishings that made the place feel like home.
While the outside stood in ruins, it was clear Josephine had returned to Nameless City quite some time ago. She merely sat in the pockets of land that held no promise, lived in would-be squalor as she plotted her family’s demise.
Elegant sconces flickered with warm light, the same as the night of the ball. They were evenly placed along the corridors and every time Scarlett passed one, it would darken. At first, she thought the electricity was bugged, that the estate hadn’t been powered in a long time and therefore faulty. But when a sconce lit up on the second floor just by the rounding staircase, she knew it was a sign.
As she held the ends of her skirt and ascended, she took in the delicate tapestries and elegant wallpaper. While she did not believe in enchantments much, she believed in Josephine. When she danced with her, when she read the little thoughts in her mind, answered them, and smiled as if it were a party trick…
She was the first Singh to surprise her. But then, women who ruled over the Birzan Dynasty were full of those. They were enchantresses that withheld magic unable to be burnt from their system. Who did business better than any man ever could. Who smiled and laughed while slitting their wrists, weaponizing the splatter of their own blood.
Such was the nature of Singh women, or so it was told. For only they could war against the world and win. For only they could smile as their husbands took the throne, died for it a thousand times if not more, and struck only when they felt necessary.
Amina and Fatima would hold no significance now that the War of Heirs began.
The sconces disrupted Scarlett’s idle thoughts. They flashed and reddened when she aimlessly wandered, drawing her back with a set of entranced eyes. They flickered and often bathed her in darkness, nothing that so much scared her.
Eventually, she found herself in a suite that put the penthouse to shame.
While the doors to the terrace closed, she could see through the stainless glass and into the gray stone outside. It overlooked the whole of the courtyard and out into the dazzling city. Heavy, dark curtains were pulled back to allow her sight, and the plush carpet underfoot prompted Scarlett to remove her shoes. She set them against the door, her gaze averted for only a moment before the curtains fell from their hold and shielded her from the twinkling lights outside.
Scarlett looked up in time to find the candles come alive. Their wicks burst with golden flames, keeping the darkness at bay. And just when she eased towards the four-poster bed big enough to hold a family of five, she turned towards the tall stick of wax with the biggest flame and said, “How’re you doing this, Jinn?”
A tap, tap, tap eased over the wall of her bed frame.
“MAGIC.”
Scarlett couldn’t help the smile on her face. Not when she asked, “Are you next door then?”
“PRAYING TO THE DARK GODS. YES.”
“Won’t you bid me goodnight? Or do the dark gods look down on common courtesy.”
Silence encumbered the suite for only a moment before Scarlett felt it, that presence one would miss if they weren’t searching for it.
Josephine stood by the open door, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes all knowing. Scarlett faced her with a strange surge of confidence. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I did.” Josephine lifted a hand, two fingers—index and middle—held before her. A small wave, and the sheer veil came tumbling over the bed, encasing the silken sheets with a curtain of privacy. “Magic.”
“There’s no such thing as magic, Jinn.”
“Of course there is. You just need to know where to look.”
“Then it’s safe to say you can read all my thoughts? Play with small little knick-knacks with your mind?”
“I can only read a person who is close to me. I can only alter what’s mine. And you, Little Dove, compel me. You have since our dance.”
“I suppose I should be flattered. I’ve insulted an Heir, slapped her, and now I’ll sleep in her bed.”
Josephine’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “And you’ll dream of her too.”
“So sure of that?” Scarlett asked.
The Silver Tyrant tilted her head back against the handsome frame and smiled. The gesture caught Scarlett off guard. What bit of bravado she had fluttered like butterfly wings in her stomach. The sight was breathtaking. It lit up Josephine. Made her cheeks bunch up at the highest points of her face and the corner of her eyes crinkle.
The laugh that accompanied it was breathtaking. It put the cathedral bells to shame. And where Scarlett had hoped, had prayed the Second Heir would take a step forward and say to her a plethora of things full of admiration, she instead said, “Goodnight, Ms. Emerson. I’ll see you in the morning.”