Page 68 of The Dagger and the Flame
Sera looked again at the piano, the ghost of her song still lingering in the air. She thought of the cool slick of Shade against her skin and the guilt that came with taking andtaking, but never giving back, the risk of every Sleight and Break and Heist, and the grimy greyness of the Hollows. Then she pictured Bibi sitting at a grand piano in a sparkling ballgown, the notes of her song soaring through the oldest music halls in Valterre, gracing the ear of the king and winning the favour of the queen, and said, quietly, ‘Is it enough?’
Bibi thought about it a moment. ‘For me, it is.’
Sera nodded. She believed her. Bibi had come to this place as a child and found contentment here as she grew. She was happy, and it was simple, and a part of Sera envied her for it.
The truth was that for all the comfort and protection she had found at House Armand, Sera could not help the yearningin her heart to go further than Shade would take her. To eventually free herself from the darkness that had nipped at her heels her whole life. She wanted the brightness of tomorrow, complete freedom from the underworld, from Dufort and the price he had placed on her head.
For Bibi, freedom was House Armand. She wasn’t straining for anything beyond these four walls. She had already found whatever peace she sought within herself.
‘I’ll let you return to your music,’ said Sera softly. ‘Let’s chat tomorrow at breakfast? I’ve got a Heist in mind.’
‘Can’t wait,’ said Bibi, smiling as she turned back to the keys. ‘Goodnight, Sera.’
‘Goodnight, Bibi.’
Sera was at the door when her friend called after her. ‘You could be happy here too, Sera.’ She ran her hands along the keys, sending a cheerful trill after her. It made Sera think of starlings, moving in a great ribbon across the sky. ‘Home is not just a place. It’s people. It’s family.’
Sera knew that was true, but there could be no home without freedom. And while Dufort stalked this city, she would never truly be free.
Chapter 24Seraphine
The Dagger was back. Standing in the darkness outside House Armand, his quicksilver eyes glowing like stardust. Sera glared at him through the gap in her curtains, hating the gnaw of her own curiosity.
Ransom had hesitated to kill her twice now. He had even gone out of his way to save Pippin. Andstill, he stalked her. Was he really that desperate to speak to her? Or did he know something vital about the magic in her necklace that she didn’t? She reached for her pen.
What exactly do you want?
The paper dart soared into the night, and returned a minute later.
Come outside and I’ll tell you.
No way. She was not walking into that spider’s web without a damn good reason.
I would rather eat a bowl of my own hair.
The note came back again.
Charming. Did you enjoy your trip to the plains?
Dread prickled in Sera’s cheeks as she imagined him following her all the way to the plains and lurking there in her garden, watching her cry. Watching her yell at Lorenzo. Oh, no. Her hand trembled as she wrote:
Did you kill Lorenzo?
The minutes stretched out, slow and agonizing. When the dart came soaring back to her, she snatched it from the air, feeling the cool brush of his shadows against her skin.
I spared your lover boy. But not before he pissed himself.
She laid her head against the window sash, letting relief wash over her. Lorenzo was alive. Never mind his cowardice, she didn’t wish him dead. She grabbed her pen.
Thank you.
She regretted it the second she sent it. The Dagger hardly deserved applause for simply not killing someone.Saints, the bar was low. His reply came again.
So, youdounderst and the concept of gratitude. Though you may save it on this occasion. I don’t kill for free.
She should have left it at that, but she found herself reaching once more for her pen. Prodding the dark, just to see what it would do.
In that case, moneybags, I’ve got a new assignment for you. Easy mark. Considerable compensation. Interested?
