Chapter 12
Will had no answers. He stood in the middle of the ballroom, now little more than a gutted skeleton, and cursed.
Everything he was seemed to dissolve between his fingers; even the last few truths he had believed he could hold on to with certainty were fading.
Paper lay scattered all around him—some sheets crumpled, others torn, others tossed aside without thought.
The new ballroom refused to take shape in his mind.
He knew the pressure was causing a creative block, one that hardened the more he fought against it.
But it would not be so frightening if he had an answer to anything else. To one damned part of his life.
The moment Elodie had left the kitchen, he had gone to the conservatory, grabbed his sketchpad, and ever since, he had been standing among the shards of his life.
He had hoped that designing might give him at least one thing he could control.
The fact that the weather had chosen this day to mock him with sunshine only made it worse.
At least he could identify the problems: this project, his magic, Elodie, and nothing less than his entire future.
The proportions of the ballroom did not work. It was too wide for its height, and the windows were not large enough to compensate for the lack of light in the narrow street outside. Worse still, because the room faced southeast, it received no sunlight in the evening, when it mattered most.
And just as he had been warned, magic had done nothing but make his life harder.
It had been na?ve to flee from the power inside him to a cursed city like Bloodgrove.
Would people smell the stench of magic on him when he returned to the Capitol?
But what kind of future did he have at all if this project didn’t work out? And even if it would be perfect…
He stared up at the ceiling, finally freed of its chains.
A temple, high and airy, spreading wide as the crown of a tree.
Chandeliers floated overhead like golden clouds, lit by the setting sun.
This ballroom was not the black of the witching hour, but the azure of dusk, when the veil between the faerie realm and their own grew thin, and maidens danced with fauns and young men with elves until the soles of their shoes wore through.
Will stepped back in shock. He could see the vision settling over reality, demanding to be made real—but how? A project like this, in a room like this, would only be possible with magic.
Raised voices broke through his thoughts.
He recognized them at once, coming from the stairwell and sounding suspiciously heated.
Curiosity won out, and for the moment, there was nothing he could do about his problem anyway.
He followed the voices, stopped in the doorway, and peered over the balustrade into the entrance hall below.
Elodie stood halfway up the stairs, one hand gathering the skirts of her dark-green dress, her face twisted into a mocking grimace as she looked down at Arcos.
Mr. Arcos was seething with rage. He raised one hand in accusation, while the other held the leashes of his two dogs, who waited patiently beside him.
Their long black coats gleamed in the sunlight pouring through the open front door, and still Will thought of the chimera and its filthy, matted fur.
Had Elodie not said she had stolen it from Mr. Arcos?
“Have you lost your mind, setting a chimera on me during a council session?” Mr. Arcos shouted.
Only then did Will notice the long cuts across his face, the bandaged hand, and the spatters of blood reaching into his hair.
His strange black clothing hung from him in shreds.
It was not his usual elegant suit, but a robe with wide sleeves ending in fitted cuffs, not unlike a judge’s gown.
A heavy chain of silver links rested across his shoulders.
“Two council members are dead, and everyone thinks I did it! They had to adjourn the session.”
“The council session where I was meant to be sworn in!” Elodie shouted back in the same tone.
“If you had not caused a scene at the opera, they might have given you a seat! But once again, you’ve proven to them that after your father’s death, you are still too emotional.”
Will drew in a sharp breath, and Elodie stared at the ambassador in disbelief.
“You mean when you humiliated me? When you passed off my blood pledge as your own? Just as you are taking the credit again now.”
“You spend blood as though you have nothing to lose! You paid the blood toll to bring in a damned interior designer. For what? So you can host prettier balls? You know exactly how your father’s last ball ended!”
Will crept a few steps closer to the balustrade. History hung heavily in the air, and everything inside him wanted to understand it. He wanted to know why he was here, why the two of them hated each other, and why he had been caught between them.
The dogs lay down as Arcos dropped their leashes and crossed to the staircase, stopping at its foot.
“You know exactly why I am doing this,” Elodie hissed.
“Because you want to become the next Red Hand,” Mr. Arcos said, stunned. “Still.”
Elodie had regained control of herself, her expression once more a cool mask. “Still. What should have changed?”
Mr. Arcos climbed until they stood nearly eye to eye, three steps between them. “I hoped you had abandoned the idea after seeing what happened to your father. Why should it be any different for you? Do you think you are stronger than he was?”
Elodie’s upper lip curled with contempt. “And you are? Powerful enough? Steadfast enough?”
“I have to be. If the past ten years have shown me anything—” Mr. Arcos braced a hand against the stone railing of the grand staircase and looked up at Elodie, almost pleading.
But she turned her face away and raised her chin. “You have always underestimated me.”
“Never. But you have already lost so much in the fight for that seat…”
“Do not speak to me of loss while you stand here taking away everything I have fought for!” Something shifted in her expression. Her brows drew together, and Will might almost have called it concern as she studied the cuts on Mr. Arcos’s face. “You should have those wounds tended to.”
Mr. Arcos searched her eyes for something, but at last he shook his head and turned away. That was when he noticed Will, and a shadow crossed his face.
“Were you spying on us?”
“You are loud enough that it hardly qualifies as spying.” Will had no choice but to face them, so he leaned against the balustrade with deliberate ease.
“Leave,” Mr. Arcos snapped. At a nearly imperceptible signal from his fingers, the dogs obediently came to his side.
“I work and live here.” Will’s gaze darted briefly toward Elodie to make certain his tone was appropriate. It was a mistake. Mr. Arcos caught the glance at once, and in the next moment, he was beside Elodie.
“What do you want with him? Why did you not rent him rooms like any normal person?” he asked with sudden intensity, and Will understood something all at once: Mr. Arcos had never been interested in him.
He had only wanted to discover who the man was who held Elodie’s attention.
Who slept beneath the same roof as she did. Who might, perhaps, be a rival.
Will could not suppress the spark of disappointment and anger. He was certain Mr. Arcos had noticed his interest and used it.
“The house is large enough. And it is pleasant not to be alone.” Elodie smiled innocently, an expression that did not suit her at all.
“You are sleeping with him.” This time, Mr. Arcos took the time to study Will more closely. “He looks as though he has only just climbed out of bed—and thoroughly satisfied.” His eyes narrowed.
Embarrassed, Will pushed the hair from his face, long, tangled strands catching between his fingers. He had not changed since their conversation that morning. He must look dreadful, still in his nightshirt and dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon.
Elodie let her cool gaze travel over Arcos. “It is time for you to leave, before I find enough of your blood on my floor to force you out.”
With a growl his dogs instinctively echoed, Mr. Arcos strode toward the gate. “You will pay for this!” he called over his shoulder.
“I expect to!”
Elodie swept triumphantly up the stairs, but Will waited with his arms crossed.
“What?” she asked, stopping in front of him.
“Keep me out of your rivalry,” he said calmly. “I am beginning to understand that the rules of your games are beyond me, and that my safety is not among them. I am your employee, someone you pay to do a job, and that job ends at the door to this ballroom.”
Elodie studied him. “I asked you to help me usher in a new age, and I thought you were prepared to take unconventional paths to achieve it. Do you not trust me? Was I mistaken?”
“Being manipulated, bringing monsters back to life, and gaining a reputation as your lover were not part of our agreement.”
“I told you not to leave your room, and I warned you that I could not protect you outside this house.” She raised her chin defiantly. “And being my lover would be an honor.”
Before Will could answer, she raised a hand. “Assuming you meant what you said, we have been invited out tomorrow. As a first step, I will introduce you into society in a smaller setting, among friends.”
“No more games.”
But Elodie was already sweeping away, leaving Will behind with his head spinning, unsure why he once again came away the loser in their argument.