Chapter 20 #2
She nods and looks up at me. “It’s just… she could do these things. Like she used to pretend she could make the lights flicker in our bedroom at night. And once she lit the fire without any matches.”
“Really?” I say. “And how did she explain it?”
“She didn’t. And those things didn’t happen often.
Usually when she was… I don’t know… with me alone.
Calm. Happy.” She shifts in her chair. “The academy is a pretty intense place, and she was always pretty stressed out about the trials and doing well. Her parents packed a ton of pressure on her shoulders which didn’t help. ”
I nod in understanding, and Fly mutters a few choice words under his breath. His on-again boyfriend strokes his hand down his arm in comfort.
“Are you saying you think she was a lumomancer?” Beaufort asks Naomi.
“I think so, yes.”
I consider her words for a moment, taking a bite of my buttered toast, chewing it, and letting the butter melt on my tongue. We all suspected there was something special about Esme and that had been the reason the Madame targeted her – but to have powers … powers like mine?
“I think there are likely to be other lumomancers out there,” Fox says. “And I think Professor Cornelius believes there will be more now that Briony’s light powers have come out, that hers will spark powers in others too.”
“Considering the Empress is going to come at us with everything she has – which is all the other shadow weavers in the realm – those lumomancers might be kind of useful,” Dray points out.
“Not all the shadow weavers,” Beaufort says. “Some are prepared to stand with us.”
Dray licks jam off his fingers. “That’s if they’re still here. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve all disappeared overnight.”
Beaufort massages his temples. It’s obvious he hadn’t considered that.
“You’re right,” he says after a moment, pushing back his chair.
“I need to go and see if they’re still here and talk with them.
Convince them to stand with us. Plus, you never know, they might have some useful intelligence, perhaps even one or two good ideas. ”
“Who are you going to see first?” I ask.
“Henrietta and Lynette,” he says. “If they’re still here, then they’re going to be the most useful. Lots of people look up to them – especially Henrietta.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” I say, picking up my toast from my plate and pushing my chair back.
Beaufort opens his mouth as if he’s going to argue, but then changes his mind and nods.
I’m halfway to the door when an idea occurs to me. I spin back around to the others.
“It might be useful to know if anyone else thinks they might have light magic, or if they know of someone else who they think does.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” the Professor says.
“We’ll split up and go talk to all the other students and the staff,” I say.
“We’ll help,” Naomi says, her friends nodding alongside her.
And then I’m following Beaufort out the door.
I’m surprised to find the day is a bright, sunny one, as if the weather is looking down favorably on us for once.
It’s so rare to see the sun here at the academy; it’s usually smothered in thick cloud or mist, but its appearance is deceptive.
The air is bitterly cold, and it hits me in the face as I step outside.
I tug my coat around me and plunge my hands into my pockets.
Our breath hangs foggily in front of our faces as we hurry along the pathways, no longer having to worry about hiding ourselves or coming face-to-face with a patrol of guards.
I’ve never been to the Smyte twins’ tower before, and I’m rather surprised to find it lies so close to the Princes’. All this time they were right there and I never realized. I wonder how often they’ve stared out their window and watched me come and go, how often they’ve been spying on me.
Beaufort steps up onto the doorstep and hammers on the door. I peer through the window on the lower level, but the curtains are drawn and the tower is dark. I wonder if Dray is right and the twins have had a change of heart and disappeared in the middle of the night.
But then the door opens.
The twins’ thrall stands in the doorway – the boy with the golden hair, a beautiful face, and a collar wrapped around his throat.
Instinctively, I touch my own neck. Would things have been different, would they have turned out differently, if I’d worn the Princes’ collar?
Would I still be standing here now? Would the magic have still awakened in my veins?
Maybe if I’d worn the collar, the thing between me and Fox would never have started. Maybe if I’d worn the collar – if I’d been a compliant, submissive kind of thrall – things would never have worked between me, Beaufort, Dray, and Thorne. Maybe they would have tired of me.
The thrall’s collar is made from the finest golden threads, woven together in an intricate pattern, and I have to admit it is beautiful, just like the collar Beaufort offered me again and again.
Part of me wonders if now I could wear it.
Everyone knows that I belong to them. In return, they belong to me.
“Are Henrietta and Lynette here?” Beaufort asks, not bothering with any niceties.
The boy nods, hesitates, then beckons us inside, shutting the door behind us.
“I’ll go fetch them,” he says. His voice is deep and assertive – not nearly as submissive as I expected. He strolls down the hallway as if he owns the place.
I stand there examining the décor. The layout is similar to the Princes’ Tower – from what I can tell of the ground floor anyway – but the decoration is far more gaudy, elaborate, and excessive.
There’s a sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling and gold wallpaper lining the walls.
The floorboards beneath our feet are so shiny they reflect our images back at us.
We wait so long that Beaufort starts to grow agitated, a frown marking his brow as he mutters under his breath. He’s on the verge of marching through the tower in search of the Smyte twins when we hear footsteps on the staircase, and then the twins’ thrall is returning without them.
“You can come on up to Henrietta’s bedroom,” he announces.
Beaufort steps forward as if he’s going to accept that invitation, but over my dead body.
“It’s okay,” I say firmly. “We’re happy to meet downstairs. We wouldn’t want to intrude on her privacy.”
Beaufort looks at me and smirks, and I scowl, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. But there is no way in hell I’m letting him walk into Henrietta’s bedroom. He’d probably find her sprawled out naked, handcuffed to the bed-frame. Yeah, no way.
The thrall disappears again, and we’re forced to wait several more minutes until eventually Henrietta and Lynette sweep downstairs, their thrall trailing behind them.
Both are wrapped in beautiful silk dressing gowns that reach all the way to their feet, the luxurious material patterned with greens and black flowers.
It’s the kind of fabric Fly would die to get his hands on.
It makes both of them look imperial, and I can see now why so many would expect Beaufort to end up with girls like them.
I stand a little closer to him, wrap my arm around his waist – probably reeking of insecurity, jealousy, and possessiveness – but I truly don’t give a shit.
It’s not like either twin is particularly sane, and both have designs on my mate.
“Beaufort,” Henrietta says, yawning and stretching her hands above her head, her gown falling open to reveal a considerable amount of cleavage. An action that is most definitely not accidental. “You forced us out of bed. It’s so early.”
“It’s gone nine o’clock, Henny. You’d usually be up and in lessons by now,” Beaufort points out.
“But Eros killed the headmaster, so I’m assuming there are no lessons today.” She giggles, walking into an adjoining room and beckoning all of us to follow.
Again, it’s similar to the Princes’ living room on the ground floor, except this one is far more like the rooms I saw in the palace at Onyx Quarter. There’s a chaise, several armchairs, and everything is dripping with style and luxury.
Henrietta throws herself across the chaise, and Linny perches on one of the sofas, her thrall settling down beside her. That leaves two armchairs – one for me, one for Beaufort, several feet apart.
I shake my head and take the one closest to Henrietta.
Her gown has fallen open at the bottom now too, and she’s showing an awful lot of bare thigh.
If we didn’t need her, I’d be growling and quite possibly attempting to claw her eyes out.
Or maybe I’d simply roll up my sleeves and show her the fated mate marks, testament to the fact that Beaufort and I are bound together for as long as we live.
“You’ve come to ask us if we’re going to fight alongside you, haven’t you?” Lynette asks from the sofa, ignoring her sister.
“We already told you that we would,” Henny says a little huffily.
“Yes, both of you did,” Beaufort answers. “But I guess I’ve come to make sure you haven’t changed your minds.”
Lynette is quiet, and Henrietta’s gaze skips chaotically around the room before eventually landing on the quiet thrall.
“What do you think, Ingram?” she asks him. I heard the boy is from Granite, that he’s smart, and that he scored a fair number of points in the last few trials.
“I think Lynette deserves to live in a world where she isn’t frightened,” he says softly. “A world where she’s free to be herself without risking being separated from her family.”
I stare at him in amazement, partly because I’m flabbergasted that Lynette would share that kind of information with him, and partly because he’s showing actual empathy for her.
But he’s right. It must be hard to hide who you truly are.
Lynette takes his hand and squeezes it, and for a moment it seems like they might really have feelings for each other.
But then she’s looking across at my fated mate with that same sycophantic, slightly obsessed look in her eyes, and maybe – just maybe – I didn’t have this so wrong in the first place.
“Okay,” Henrietta muses, rolling onto her back so that her legs are completely exposed.
Just a slip of her gown more, and she’ll be giving us a perfect view of her pussy, which I expect is exactly what she intends.
“So we come help you,” she says, waving her hands in the air.
“We come fight alongside you… if this ends up being a fight. What’s in it for us? ”
“For you?” I say, feeling my temper spark to life.
“I think your thrall laid it out pretty damn well, Henrietta,” Beaufort says.
“You’re going to bring the whole system crashing down around your ears,” Henrietta says, her eyes sparkling at the idea.
“I don’t know what we’re going to—” Beaufort begins, but I interrupt him.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “We are.” Beaufort looks at me. “You know it isn’t fair. And you know it isn’t right. Things need to change. And we’re going to be the ones to change them.”
“You still haven’t told us what you’re going to give us in return for helping you,” Henrietta says lazily, as if my passionate words mean nothing to her at all.
“You mean apart from the obvious,” I snap, “doing the right thing and—”
“Boring.” Henrietta yawns.
Beaufort ignores both of us. “And you haven’t asked what I need you to do.”
“Fight alongside you, I’m assuming,” Henrietta says.
“No.” Beaufort shuffles forward on his seat, his eyes swinging from Lynette to Henrietta and back again. “Briony helped your sister – saved her, Henny,” Beaufort says. “I need you to do the same for me.”
I gasp. I have no idea why I hadn’t considered Arabella in all of this mess. We left her at the palace under her mother’s care. Obviously Beaufort would be concerned about her safety.
“You don’t think your mother would use Arabella against you?” I say, horrified by the idea.
He shrugs. “I really don’t know. I don’t think she would do it now.
As far as she’s concerned, she has all the power, all the knowledge, all the advantages.
I imagine she considers us nothing more than a little bit of a nuisance.
But if things change, if the scales of power shift, if she starts to feel threatened…
” He swallows. “I don’t know what she’d do if she was backed into a corner.
Arabella maybe her daughter, Briony,” he says, turning his silver gaze onto me, “and yet I’m her son, and she was prepared to execute me. ”
I want to run over to him and wrap my arms around him, because I see all the hurt that causes in his eyes. And I know exactly what it feels like not to be loved, not to be cared for, especially by a parent. Someone who’s meant to do all those things for you.
However, I stay in my seat. He’s still trying to negotiate with Henrietta and Lynette, and I can see the advantages of it, even if they are both crazy. I have to let him try – for Arabella’s sake.
Henrietta rolls back up to sit, leaning forward on her seat, mirroring Beaufort’s posture, her gown falling off her shoulders. It’s just the tie around the middle holding it in place now, otherwise the girl would be entirely naked.
“Hell’s Bells,” she says. “You want me to look out for Hell’s Bells?”
“Yes. If it comes down to it – if there’s a point where it looks like she’s in danger – I need you both to promise me you’ll get her out of there, you’ll ensure her safety.”
“That’s going to be pretty hard to do,” Lynette says, “if we’re here fighting by your side.”
“That’s why I need you to go back to the palace,” Beaufort says. “I need you to return to the Empress and pretend like you never even considered helping us.”
The Smyte twins’ thrall’s eyes grow wide in his head. “That could be dangerous for them. There may already be people like Kratos telling tales on them.”
“Nobody would believe that,” Henrietta says confidently, her eyes still on Beaufort. She considers him, and then finally she adds: “Okay, if that’s what you want, Beaufort, we’ll do it. We’ll return to the palace and we’ll keep a watchful eye on your sister.”
Beaufort visibly relaxes, his shoulders no longer tight, his jaw slackening.
“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, Henny, and thank you, Linny.”
When we’re outside the tower, away from the twins, I turn to him.
“Do you really think we can trust them?”
Beaufort frowns. “I don’t know. But it’s the best plan I have.”