Page 33 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Emrys’s face lit up with horror and shock. “What? That’s disgusting.”
“It is a tapeworm. Some girls used to swallow an egg to try to get the tiny waists that you would see on some of the StarlingLadies, and many courtesans do it, too,” she said. Starling Ladies were high-class, high-fashion ladies.
But why would Jane use one?
Quinn thought she knew Jane, but as the minutes ticked by, she realized she understood nothing about the other redhead.
“I didn’t know that girls were still doing that.” Emrys stepped closer to get a better look at the worm.
“I didn’t know people still held suitor balls. I guess some people like to keep up their archaic traditions.” Quinn shook her head at his hypocrisy.
Emrys opened his mouth to respond but then abruptly shut it. He visibly swallowed before finally saying, “Why do it? The beauty standards are changing. There is no need to do this.”
“Some girls still feel a lot of pressure to be skinny and to look like the ‘ideal woman.’”
“But—”
“Or perhaps the Fantômes gang requires their girls to look a certain way," Quinn said clinically.
“That is . . . excessive.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “Or perhaps it was another mirror deal gone wrong. Clearly, I know nothing about Jane.”
Emrys’s eyes darkened, and he let a long pause linger before he said, “How did she die?”
“Blood loss.”
He took a hesitant step forward. “Drained entirely of blood?”
“Yes,” Quinn breathed. Her hands shook, and dread crawled up her throat.
“What do you think killed her?” he asked.
Quinn shuddered and pretended to examine the bowels, but in truth, she didn’t want to say that her best hypothesis was a vampire. It sounded ridiculous.
“Do you think it was a vampire?” His voice was wary.
Quinn bristled. It was like he read her mind. Or, possibly, he believed it. She faced him. “Vampires are extinct.” She was a machine devoid of emotion.
His only response was to place his hands in his pockets and nonchalantly rock on his feet. Quinn glared up at him, a snake coiling around her heart and baring its fangs. He was so annoying. Emrys only suggested it to get under her skin—to toy with her.
“Can you please leave? You are too distracting.” Quinn returned to her task.
“I can be quiet.”
“No. You should leave. You are too distracting even with your mouth shut, which by the way, is always preferable.”
Part of Quinn craved the distraction, though. Because she had to admit that since he entered the room, her devastation was held a little bit at bay. She was too focused on the prince to acknowledge her broken heart, and that made the autopsy easier.
But he was still an irritant.
Emrys chuckled. “You are refreshingly honest.”
Were people not generally honest with him?
“And you are not quiet.” She flashed a glare at him that could cut deep wounds in his chest.
He raised his hands in silent defeat and went back to leaning against the counter in a pose that must have been on purpose. No one leaned like that on accident. He looked like a hero in a silent film.
