35. Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
“Lucena!”
Riselda’s voice rang from the doorway of a shop that Lux had never possessed the desire to enter. From the displays alone, the floor to the ceiling must be compiled of the brightest, most expensive dresses and fabrics in existence. She recoiled from the mass bulging behind her aunt’s form.
“Come inside. I’ve something to show you.”
Lux stared after Riselda’s retreating figure, angry with herself for having chosen this particular route home. She pondered feigning misunderstanding and scurrying away, but when her aunt’s frown found her from above a puffed pile of orange tulle in the loosest form of a dress, she knew it wouldn’t be worth the consequences of her ire.
And Riselda had healed her ankle…
Clenching her teeth, Lux climbed the steps, pushing the door aside. The inside of the shop smelled worse than it looked; the air thickened with perfumes that burned her nose and coated her throat.
“Riselda, I’m busy.”
Riselda turned from the shopkeeper with a swish of plum skirts. “Aren’t we all, but the festival is right around the corner. And this year will be especially spectacular.” Lux studied the gleam in her eyes. “How is your ankle? All healed?”
Lux coughed. “Yes, thank you.”
Riselda tilted her head, her eyes delving into Lux’s own, searching for answers. She found none and shrugged, a laugh leaving her lips. “So secretive. No matter. You’re welcome.”
Riselda spun back to the slight woman she’d been speaking with. “Yes, yes. That one. A perfect match, I’m sure.” The woman skipped away, likely ecstatic over Riselda’s expensive purchase.
“You used to wear such lovely colors, Lucena.” Riselda stepped forward to finger the red taffeta at Lux’s back. “It’s a pity you’ve lost your love of them.” When the woman returned with a dress slung across her arms, she added, “But I do hope you’ll at least consider this one.”
Signaled, the shopkeeper released the skirt, holding the dress high. It was fitted through the waist with capped sleeves and a round neckline, silver leaves delicately stitched into the pale green silk from the bodice through the skirt. An exact match of Lux’s eyes.
Eyes that burned.
“No, thank you.”
The shopkeeper’s face fell, the promise of profit falling through her fingers. “But it would look so lovely on you, dear! Your hair, your eyes. That skin. Yes, you must try it on.”
Eager hands pushed the fabric toward her own.
“It’s time to brighten up your wardrobe, Lucena. Ghadra’s Necromancer doesn’t always have to be dressed in shades of death.”
The woman’s eyes bulged.
Shine bright, Lucena. “Oh, but I adore death. How else could I afford my sweet rolls?”
The color left the shopkeeper’s face entirely at Lux’s words, and her hands began to shake.
“Be that as it may, I don’t believe you need to dress the part of corpse if you’re to accompany me to the festival.”
This was new information. “You’re attending? And you’ve decided I am too?” Nettled, irritation threaded her voice. She’d gone too long making her own choices, and this pushed too far.
Riselda’s brow furrowed. “Yes. It’s special to me. This one particularly so.” Her eyes unfocused, and her gaze drew far away, when she rasped, “It’s been a long time.”
Lux blinked against the change overcoming the woman before her when Riselda suddenly lurched back to the present, staring down at her with a smile painfully wide.
“I don’t ask much from you, darling. Please consider it?”
Without waiting for a response, Riselda paid the paled woman who then dumped the dress into Lux’s arms before staggering back with a quick bow. She hadn’t even offered to wrap it. Lux tucked her hands around the skirt to bring it further into her arms where the silver leaves glinted against her sleeve.
“Well then.” Riselda patted her cheek, sending slivers of ice through the soft skin. Lux jerked away, and as if only now noticing her wet hair, Riselda inspected her. “You were at the bathhouse?”
“Enjoying the latest gossip.” At Riselda’s quirked brow, Lux humored her. “I’ve apparently begun refusing my services. Even as the mayor’s daughter begs and pleads.”
Riselda’s mouth thinned, the skin whitening around her lips. “I see.”
Lux had thought the whole encounter comical, a pathetic ploy of Morana’s to further ruin her. Yet, Riselda was clearly and abruptly furious, and Lux frowned at the raging storm beneath the surface.
“I will find you later. Hang that up so it doesn’t wrinkle.” Riselda’s clipped demands were followed by a sweep of skirts and a nearly collided hip as she strode through the door.
Lux tracked her progress down the street, but when Riselda faded into the distance, she turned into the shop’s expanse. The shopkeeper caught her glance with a soft gasp and proceeded to pretend she didn’t exist. Rolling her eyes, Lux balled up the beautiful dress in her arms and shouldered her way through the door.
Sleeping the day away meant twilight was upon her before Lux had managed to arrive home. And so, because she had done it many times in the past, her feet trekked the familiar path, past her home, through the archway and outside Ghadra’s walls.
Lux watched the fog roll in, relaxing her harsh grip on the silk in her arms until it fell, loose and nearly to the stones beneath her. Movement caught her vision in the distance within the trees.
The death-cart. Making its way back to town.
“Thinking of offering your phantom a gift?”
Lux stifled a scream, spinning to connect her hand to the voice’s jaw. Shaw caught it a fraction before it landed, his eyes wide.
Lux’s were a mirror image. She ripped her fingers from his warm grasp. “What is wrong with you?”
“With me? What is wrong with you? I wasn’t even walking quietly.”
She glanced down at his heavy boots, the creeping fog caressing up and over them. “You followed me?”
“Only to ask how you’re managing to not only walk without crutches but without a limp as well. Though, now I’m also wondering why you’re headed into the trees again with a dress for a weapon. Call me curious.” He crossed his arms.
Lux huffed, stepping off the bridge. “You distrust me? Go away, Shaw. My business has never been, nor will it ever be, yours.”
His jaw clenched, a day’s growth lining it. He looked older. Older, and tired.
She told herself she didn’t care.
He opened his mouth, ready to fuel yet another argument between them, when the death-cart’s wheels met stone. Shaw moved back, away from her and to the opposite side of the path.
Lux studied his gaze regarding hers as the wagon rolled between them, relieved of its cargo, driven by a man with bruises beneath his eyes and slumped shoulders. He didn’t even glance their way.
Lucena .
Lux pressed her eyes closed briefly before giving in to the gathering grey. Shaw’s tracked her movement.
Lucenaaa.
The boughs bent. The wood beckoned.
“What’s happening?”
The branches curled inward. Inward and out again.
“The trees…”
But she didn’t face him. Instead, she squinted into the clearing, her mind tricking her into believing she could see a faint figure, cloaked and hooded, hovering above a mound of bodies. She shook her head, the vision disappearing.
“I’ve got to go. Can’t have this dress wrinkle.” She crushed the fabric back into her arms, hopelessly creased, before turning on her heel.
“Did you know that lifeblood can bring back your health, even from the brink of death?”
She whirled with a glare. Was he implying she had drunk it to cure her broken ankle? Her lips parted, words of rage boiling, threatening to burn them both. But her fury went unnoticed.
Shaw was staring at the fog weaving between his boots, hands in his pockets, his shoulders curved inward. “Did you know there’s a boy playing happily with his sisters at this moment when a week past, he was dying of fever? His family is so poor they couldn’t even afford a physician…let alone a necromancer.”
His eyes found hers then, and Lux almost stumbled back from them. “Did you know there’s a girl your age who can continue to care for her young, orphaned siblings because rather than simply dying from the beating she’d sustained, leaving them behind and alone, she drank a murderer’s essence instead?”
Something pricked at the corners of her eyes.
“Did you know, Lux, that every time a life left that of someone who purposefully hurt, mutilated, or killed innocents, I drained it, bottled it, and personally made sure it passed the lips of someone who deserved to live ?”
Her soft exhale resonated loudly in the space between them.
“You can hate me for what I’ve done. For what I still do. But I will never repent to you.”
A single tear fell from Lux’s lashes to travel down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away. And Shaw didn’t see it.
He was already gone.