Chapter Thirty
Mavis didn’t know where Arden, Oriana, or Thaddeus went, but the fact that she couldn’t find any of them in the ballroom after Arden and Oriana’s dance made her stomach churn. She made to circle the room again to look for them, but a voice stopped her.
“Ah, Miss Lindcourt,” Philomena Gellis called down from her dais, the butler helping her to her feet and toward the stairs. “A turn about the room would do me wonders, I think, if you would be kind enough to escort me.”
“I . . .” Mavis trailed off, guilt tugging at her. “Of course, Mrs. Gellis. I’d be honored.”
When the woman reached the bottom of the stairs and let go of the butler to clutch Mavis’s arm instead, Mavis pretended not to notice just how weak her grip was, how heavy Mrs. Gellis leaned on her for support.
“Arden and Miss Mayles make a handsome couple, don’t they?” Mrs. Gellis asked as they began to walk around the perimeter of the room.
“The handsomest,” Mavis agreed, even as the words tasted foul. If Mrs. Gellis detected her grimace, she gave no indication. “I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.”
It was the truth, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. That Mrs. Gellis caught, giving Mavis a sidelong glance, a single eyebrow raised.
“I do hope so.” She shook her head. “Though if I might be honest—and I see little point of being anything else at this juncture—I have my doubts.”
Mavis chose her next words carefully. “I don’t believe you could pick a more perfect bride for your nephew than Miss Mayles.”
“No, no, Oriana is perfection,” Mrs. Gellis said quickly. “I’m afraid the issue is Arden—you knew him in Strall, did you not?”
Mavis swallowed. “I did.”
“Did your paths cross around the time of this ill-fated engagement of his?”
Mavis had to force her steps not to falter. “Yes—I believe I remember hearing about it.”
“Hmmph.” Mrs. Gellis frowned. “Awful woman, by the sound of it—heartless and greedy and a first-class liar.”
All of those things Mavis had been called before, but hearing them now from Mrs. Gellis hurt more than she expected.
“Yes.” She forced her voice to remain airy. “What she did was unforgivable.”
“And yet . . .” Mrs. Gellis sighed. “I think he somehow loves her still.”
Mavis had never struggled to spin lies, but now she felt those lies unraveling like a pulled thread. If Mrs. Gellis were anyone else, she would have fled from the room then and there, but she wouldn’t leave Arden’s ailing aunt alone.
“Men are foolish creatures, Miss Lindcourt,” the woman continued, clicking her tongue. “My nephew is no exception to that.”
It took Mavis a moment to find her breath. They turned at the corner of the room, walking toward the exit. “Mr. Ryskamp is a good man, though, Mrs. Gellis. He’s a credit to you in every way.”
Mrs. Gellis glanced at her again, this time looking at Mavis as if she’d gone mad. “Well, I know that.” She rolled her eyes. “But for the sake of the Old Gods, don’t you dare tell him as much before I’m dead.”
Before Mavis could respond, the sound of a muffled scream filled the air, almost entirely drowned out by the music, but when Mrs. Gellis stiffened beside her, Mavis knew she’d heard it too.
Mrs. Gellis sighed. “I do hope someone isn’t committing a murder in my parlor, Miss Lindcourt—I would hate to be upstaged at my own death ball.” Her grip on Mavis’s arm tightened. “Shall we investigate?”
Mavis did not truly expect a murder scene when she pushed open the parlor door, but the sight that greeted her and Mrs. Gellis was somehow all the more shocking: Oriana scrambling to her feet, her gown rumpled and the hem torn; Thaddeus listing against one wall, blood pouring from his nose and shirt torn; and Arden flickering into sight, seemingly unharmed but dripping wet.
Half the room was sodden—the sofas waterlogged and floors drenched, and when Thaddeus waved his arm toward the open window and summoned a stream of seawater, Mavis understood why.
Arden went invisible, and the stream Thaddeus summoned hit the wall with such force that it knocked a gilt-framed painting to the floor.
“Stop this right now,” Mrs. Gellis tried to shout, but her voice was weak, and the words came out a murmur. Neither Mayles sibling paid her any mind, but Arden reappeared a few feet from Thaddeus, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his aunt, then Mavis.
It was all the distraction Thaddeus needed.
He lunged sideways toward Arden, fist raised, but in his drunken stupor he was too slow.
Arden darted right, blinking invisible again, but the sound of cloth ripping filled the air, and a triumphant smile spread over Thaddeus’s mouth as he looked at his hand, fist clenched. Invisible or not, Arden was caught.
Mavis didn’t think—she left Mrs. Gellis in the doorway and ran toward Thaddeus.
“Let go of him!” she shouted, shoving Thaddeus’s shoulder as hard as she could.
Normally, even that wouldn’t have been enough to budge Thaddeus’s broad frame, but he must have been more intoxicated than Mavis realized because he tumbled sideways with a frustrated grunt.
Thaddeus released Arden. Thaddeus’s arms windmilled wildly as he tried to catch his balance, then his hand grasped Mavis’s wrist, fingers closing around her bracelet, and the clasp came free with a deafening click.
Thaddeus hit the floor with a thud, the bracelet slipping from his fingers and falling into a puddle dimpling the drenched rug.
Arden, free from Thaddeus’s hold, darted toward it, but before he could reach it, the bracelet sparked, then stuttered.
Fractured illusions lit up the parlor—shimmering flowers, twinkling stars, dancing ballerinas, a bright blinding light, and then .
. . nothing. The bracelet fizzled out, smoke seeping from the fake jewels.
“You see?” Thaddeus shouted, pointing to Mavis. “She’s a fake, a fraud! A scheming, low-born piece of Lack scum! Send for the police to arrest her at once, Mrs. Gellis!”
For a moment that felt like an eternity, no one spoke. Finally, Oriana broke the silence, her cool gray gaze not focused on Mavis or her broken bracelet, but on her brother. “Is that what you did to Jonas?” Her voice was quiet, but Mavis didn’t miss the danger lurking underneath.
Thaddeus, however, did. He glowered at his sister. “For the gods’ sake, Oriana. Not now.”
It wasn’t an answer, but it seemed to be all the confirmation Oriana needed. “What did you do, Thaddeus?”
Thaddeus laughed. “I saved you from throwing your life away for a nobody—from ruining our family’s legacy, our reputation.
I gave the man five thousand solas to leave Garlin and never return.
What a waste of money that turned out to be.
” He tried to stand, then grimaced and sank to the floor again, snarling at Mavis.
“You sprained my ankle—I’ll have the police add assault to your crimes.
Help me up, Oriana.” He held out a hand.
Oriana straightened her spine, her eyes locked on her brother. “No, I don’t think I will,” she said softly. “Not this time.”
She turned away from him, and for an instant, shock and anguish played over Thaddeus’s face, but just as quickly, it was gone.
“Fine,” he gritted out, then dragged himself to his feet. He was unsteady, listing to one side, but he managed to amble toward the doorway. When he reached it, he looked back at Mavis, his jaw set and eyes still unfocused but hard and merciless. “The price went up—I want two million now.”
Mavis couldn’t do anything but laugh. “I was never going to give you a single sola, Thaddeus. Be sure to tell the police that when you recount all my many crimes.”
With one last scowl, Thaddeus stormed from the room, all but knocking over Mrs. Gellis as he went.
Arden hurried to his aunt’s side, steadying her, but Mrs. Gellis’s attention was focused on Mavis, her dark-blue eyes piercing as the pieces of a puzzle slid into place. In that moment, she looked so much like Arden it made Mavis’s chest ache.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Gellis,” she told the woman, her voice wavering around the unfamiliar words.
Had Mavis ever apologized before? Had she ever meant it?
If she had, she couldn’t remember. “I’m sorry I dragged Arden into this mess, and I’m sorry I ruined your death ball—and your parlor, for that matter.
” She gestured around the waterlogged room. “I’m just . . . I’m sorry.”
Arden looked at Mavis, surprised, but his aunt spoke first.
“It was you,” she said softly, eyes still on Mavis. “It was always you.”
Then Philomena Gellis’s eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed, Arden’s arms the only things keeping her from hitting the floor.