Page 121 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Forty
The diamond stars twinkled above, whispering secrets across the vast, shadowed expanse. The church bells of St. Grace Cathedral struck midnight, and Emrys stepped onto the dais to give his speech celebrating the loss in the Blood Rebellion at the Illusion ceremony.
The ceremony was a moment of breath for Quinn. A moment to process her reeling emotions and the fact that the last three years of her life were a lie.
The last nineteen years.
The ground shifted, and everything was hanging off-axis.
She didn’t know how to move forward.
Quinn stood with the palace’s retinue behind the gilded dais between her best friend and the girl who made life torture. Giselle and Countess Teagan. Quinn was utterly confused about why the prince wanted her to be among his palace’s guests.
The violet-capped train of Quinn’s dress swayed in a frigid late autumn breeze. Draped from her shoulders was an onyx velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline. The violet train flowed from the dress’s back, adding a pop of subtle color. Despite its simplicity, the dress had a seductive shape. Emrys dressed her as amodest princess who shined more brilliantly than the elegant, uninvolved dress she wore.
Giselle and the countess, on the other hand, wore over-the-top designs. The countess in a canary yellow ensemble, complete with an armored bodice, and Giselle in a red sandstone piece that made her look like a gilded sculpture.
Jevon, per usual, managed to make his suit look loose, ruffled, and worn.
As Emrys’s speech drew to a close, he held out his arm, inviting his retinue onto the stage. The group slowly gathered by his side, Quinn trying to hide in the back and out of the view of journalists, who’d been enjoying writing salacious articles about her and the prince.
There was no need to give them more cannon fodder.
No. Little ballerina, by my side.Emrys’s honeyed voice echoed in her mind, and she jolted. She tried to keep a happy mask on her face despite the emotions rolling up her spine. Hearing voices in her head was utterly impossible, jarring, and crazy-making.
It must have been a vampire ability that she’d never known about before.
On the inside, she let out a very elaborate cuss and stared at him likeyou have to be kidding me. He couldn’t have warned her about this before.
He winked.By my side, little ballerina. Let’s give them something to talk about.
I hope you’re not serious.
I always am, except when I am not.
He’d heard her thoughts too. What in the world?
Not now, I'll explain later.He held out his arm, waiting for her. And now everyone seemed to notice the silent looks between them. She searched the crowd, the camera flashbulbs raging as journalists frantically wrote on their notepads. Now, if she didn’t comply, it would look horrible, so she forced a sweet, candy smile on her face and strolled over to the prince and took his hand.
I am going to kill you later for this.She flashed a twinkling gaze before turning back to the crowd.
I am sure I’d enjoy you trying, he said in her mind before turning to the crowd. “We honor all of the fallen, all of those who gave their lives to make New Swansea a safe country, free of the tyrannical rule of vampires.”
Even this was a lie.
That’s all vampires ever did.Lie.
A life built on lies. Constance—Seren—whatever her name was, was made for this life. She flawlessly performed deception, trickery, and murder.
Quinn’s mouth tasted like acid, and she rolled her free fingers into a ball.
Emrys dropped her hand and motioned to a footman who handed him a bow and arrow. Once he nocked the arrow, he held it to the footman, who lit it on fire. Pulling the string back to his anchor point—his perfect mouth—he said, “Be with peace.” Then he let loose the arrow, which cut through the air and perfectly hit the center funeral pyre floating on the lagoon.
Echoes of “be with peace” traveled through the crowd as more and more arrows flew through the air, hitting the 342 miniature funeral ships spreading across the lagoon. At that exact moment, the Mirror of Aurora awakened and released illusions into the midnight sky. Ten for each person lost in the war, each uniquely representing them. Some of the illusions were animals like doves and lions, others were lilies and roses, and others still were diamonds and lanterns. They climbed the night like fireflies dancing to the heavens, covering the horizon with speckled glowing paint.
The night sang with a somber beauty. A melody so soul-touching stole the sound from the festival, and people were so transfixed they refused to speak.
I like you in simple dresses,Emrys whispered into her mind, his focus on her instead of the brilliant spectacle in front of them.
