Page 16 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
She never talked about her parents. Ever. Preferring to pretend the murders never happened, but it didn’t work. She heard their screams in her dreams and saw blood pooling on the floor—too much blood.
She cracked her neck and stared down at her fingers. She still hadn’t finished fixing Giselle’s skirt. Picking up the needle and thread, Quinn continued and tried to the best of her ability to erase her spiraling thoughts and emotions. It all just needed to go away.
When they had finally passed the Soul Mirror Way, her necklace stopped glowing and settled back into its original form, and a trickle of terror coiled in Quinn’s stomach. The necklace never acted like this, and it was deeply unsettling.
Everything was falling apart, and Quinn had a sinking feeling that it was all about to get so much worse.
Six
The Viridian’s grand ballroom pulsed with magic and possibility as Constance pulled Quinn by the arm into the festivities and closer to her dreaded deal—closer to midnight too. Jane said Emrys would be at the Viridian tonight, so if Quinn were going to kiss him, it would have to be in the infamous nightclub before or after Jane’s meeting. Why Jane was meeting with the prince was just another mystery that needed to be solved.
But not now, because the mere thought of kissing caused an anchor to drop in her stomach. Everyone Quinn knew wasexperiencedexcept her. Constance and Giselle both lived in a burlesque club and courtesan den—although from what Quinn had gathered, neither of them partook in that particular profession. Regardless, Giselle had a newmanweekly, if not nightly. And Constance was more than skilled in the art of seduction. Even messy, clumsy Jevon fucked new women all the time.
All of Quinn’s friends partied and trulylivedwhile she was too busy dancing and working.
Now, she feared she was getting too old to be so sheltered.
Granted, Quinn had probably seen more penises in her life than any of her friends. But dead penises didn’t really count. She’d even seen a broken penis once, but again, it didn’t count—except to be utterly scarring. Because Quinn had never used any . . . or touched them outside of a medical lab.
And the kisses she’d had in the ballet were pecks—for show. None of her experiences would help her seduce the Playboy Prince and kiss him passionately.
Fuck Nightshade. He’d set her up to fail. Kissing Emrys Avalon was madness. It was torture—and Nightshade knew it. He’d said as much, and that’s why he chose it.
“You look worried,” Constance said, pulling Quinn and their friends out of the rush of people. “Is it about kissing the prince?”
“Of course it is.” Quinn’s voice quivered. “I don’t have any real experience.”
“You don’t really need experience. Emrys will do most of the work for you.” Constance winked. “I’m sure it would be his ultimate pleasure.”
Quinn groaned. She, too, was certain he’d love to kiss her. The man was known as one of the biggest rogues in New Swansea, but Quinn would still need to corner him and put the idea in his mind, and that wouldn’t be easy.
“If it’s possible, her face just got redder,” Jevon fake whispered to Giselle, who stifled a giggle.
“You’re going to be fine,” Giselle said with a hand muffling her face.
“Yes, you will,” Constance added. “He’s been practicing for ages. I’m sure he’s even deflowered a virgin or two. You’ll be in great hands.”
“Ages?”
“It’s a metaphor, Quinn,” Constance shook her head. “And of all of the rogues Iknow, he’s probably the most skilled and patient.”
Know. The way she saidknow . . .“Did he deflower—” Ugh, no, that was a ridiculous word. “Have you fucked him?”
“No, and yes.”
Before Quinn could get any more answers to that fascinatingriddle, a group of young revelers pushed in between them. Terrible timing.
“Don’t be so glum,” Constance yelled over the crowd. “It’s your birthday. Enjoy the splendor. It will be fun to lose yourself to handsome, handsy gentlemen.”
“Handsy gentlemen?” Quinn’s heart stumbled. She truly hoped Emrys wouldn’t be handsy . . . or did she? Fuck. Maybe it was the night to experiment and learn.
Fuck. Quinn didn’t know. It was all too confusing. Trying not to show her fear . . . again, Quinn played along with Constance, saying, “I am pretty sure the words handsy and gentlemen do not go together.”
“Oh, I think they go perfectly together.” Constance winked.
Jane’s lips drew up at the corner. “Oh, they do.”
“See, even our serious, boring friend knows how wonderful hands can be used in the proper ways.”
