Page 141 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

“We might not get to leave at all if we don’t—” she stops, I turn. Her face has blanched and she clutches onto her shoulders while leaning down, as though she is going to puke.

I walk to her quickly, put an arm around her torso, and as hard as it is to give up, I say, “Let’s go.”

Chapter 28

Nothing’s More Dangerous Than A Scorned Lover

LUCIAN

Calista and I make it back to the school, and we both go our separate ways. Me to Lilac’s room, and her who knows where.

I grab Li’s violin—in case she wakes and needs something familiar—and I go to Soma, where I watch Lilac from outside the magically bounded room. Because I am a coward.

I put her in there, and I dare not enter.

This is my line of thought every time I am here. I can look, but I can’t touch.

She begins to shake on her cot. “Lilac?” I whisper into the room. Her eyes do not open, she does not respond, she only shakes further.

She’s seizing. Foam collects at the sides of her mouth, and I run, looking for a Light Folk to break the barrier. The noblewomen and men, the soldiers and guards, and all the workers of the palace look at me as I sprint the halls.

All with blue eyes.

I trip and fall. Shadows evanesce around me, and Lusia stands above me. “What are you doing here, darling?”

“Lilac,” I say, standing. “She’s seizing, she needs help.”

Lusia waves a hand. “She’s fine.”

“She’s foaming at the mouth.”

Lusia grabs my chin and peers into my eyes for a long moment. “You’re right,” she says, “there is something deeply wrong with her. We don’t know what.” She lets go of my chin harshly. “You’re still watching the septic girl, yes?”

“Yes…” I answer.

“I instructed you to bring her to me in the beginning, but I fear I underestimated her crimes and the lengths in which it would take to prove them. If you have the opportunity to strike, Lucian,” she says severely. “Don’t miss.”

“What crimes?” I ask. “Why would you need to prove them?”

Proving crimes has never been within her worries.

“Because the target on her back is exchangeable. Be careful with her. For now, get to class. Appearances are important, darling. Especially these days.”

I hadn’t realized how deeply I wanted to delegitimize my suspicions of Desdemona until this moment. Because it seems I’ve been right.

I go back to Lilac’s prison. No one comes to help. She lays on the cot, seizing and foaming at the mouth for too long before she ceases. I, like a coward, go to the wine cellar.

It’s full of every wine imaginable. I grab two reds and sit on the floor.

I’ve drank half a bottle before I make it back to Visnatus, and when I get there, I stop in Desdemona’s suite. I haven’t been here since Li moved out.

There are two beds, one full of books and clothes and the other is tidy. I suppose that is hers, since she probably doesn’t have many belongings.

I open the drawer next to the bed laced in green. There’s only a small glass jar with a whiteish substance, a journal, and a pen.

I go for the journal.

Again. I killed again. In my dreams, in my wake, it’s always the same. The guilt carries past the barriers of sleep. The two Folk and the Lucent make three, but the dreams make a number that I don’t care to count.

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