Page 97 of Grave Flowers
She stared at me with such loathing that I shrank inside. I gritted my teeth and faced her, determined to remain strong.
“Does it matter?” I asked. “It seems I brought you back instead, but I don’t understand. I know from your journal you can bring someone back from Bide only if their portrait is buried in the immortalities’ roots. I didn’t bury a portrait of you, so how are you here?”
Dramatically, Inessa stalked over the grave flower that had held her body. “There, there, Orios.” She stroked it, causing it to purr. “You, Madalina, are my twin and the portrait of me. The scars you bear, I bear. I made certain of it. And, with the immortalities growing within your hand, you are the invocation personified—a portrait of me entangled with the immortalities’ roots. And just look at us now! Both in red … though who made yours? Sister, you do our beauty a disservice by wearing such hastily made clothes. And is that your name embroidered upon it?”
“It’s a costume,” I blurted, as though such a thing mattered.
“You do seem to have grown in confidence. The slits are magnificent on you,” Inessa appraised. “Though perhaps you’ve striven too boldly. You summoned me much too early. I thought I was going to discover you in the bridal chamber with Aeric dead on the bed.”
“Nothing makes sense,” I choked out. “Even if I had poisoned Aeric and you appeared to me as a ghost, how would you possibly get me to say the roundabout invocation after making me believe my goal was to release you from Bide?”
“Easily!” Inessa’s eyes flashed in pleasure, as though she loved laying out her plan and watching my horror grow. “I would’ve told you I’d found a way to bring mother back if you said the invocation. You would say it without hesitation because of your guilt over her death. But, Sister, for one raised at the Radixan court, you are much too trusting. You believed that I could appear only to you simply because I said so.” She frowned. “Admittedly, I couldn’t see things from Bide, and my travel between here and there was difficult, forcing me to limit my trips. I dofeel like I would’ve found a way around those limitations, eventually. I always find a way to get what I want.”
I stared at her, livid with rage, livid with fear. Pain swam through in me in the way nausea swims through the stomach, coming in waves, building stronger and stronger until I longed to retch it out.
“And the Acusan court? How would you have swayed it to your side with no legitimate claim to the throne?”
“With coin, dear Sister. Power hinges on three places—money, military, and religion. The treasurer and head monasticte already proved they are bribable, and as for the head general, well, I could arrest him for a crime or have him assassinated. Both options work delightfully well. The court would be in upheaval for a time, but they are Acusans, not Radixans. They seek comfort above all else. I’d strike horror with some executions, and then, I don’t know, frame Crus for a war or some such nonsense to distract and unify everyone.” She scratched the grave flower, making it excitedly waggle. “When I terrorized Queen Gertrude to death, I learned where she hid the Montario coin, so I’ll have ample resources. Oh, it was terribly fun. You should’ve seen it, Mads. I appeared to her as a vile and horrifying spirit and told her she’d killed her babies. There’s something so exquisite in having such power over another, to see their fear and wield as it as you would a blade. Then I’d rule as you. I feel I look like a Madalina, don’t you think?”
“But why?” I whispered. Inessa’s hand stilled on the grave flower, and her head tilted to the side, as though she didn’t quite understand the question. “Why did you decide to do this to me?”
“Because I must, Mads. I’m not like you. I wasn’t born with a heart, so I must find something else to put in its place. A crown. A throne. A kingdom.” For the first time, her voice faltered. “I can’t—I can’t be around others. They are warm and alive, and I’ve always … not been.”
“But you could’ve let me be your heart,” I said. “You don’t have to be alone—you never had to be alone. It didn’t have to be me or you. It could’ve been us both, together.”
“You don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?”
“Everything!” She was shouting. “Don’t you see? I’m not fit for this life, so I must make another one, one for me. One where love doesn’t matter because it doesn’t exist.”
“But there is no such place, Inessa,” I whispered. “There never will be.”
“Stop.” Inessa left the grave flower and came close to me. We faced each other. “I command you to stop. You had Mother’s love—you don’t know what it is to not. I know because I pretended to be you when we were young. It’s how I got her to tell me about Alifair. I took the plaque we stole to her and asked her why it had his name on it. Thinking I was you, she said, ‘You must never tell Inessa.’ I knew, in that moment, that Mother feared me. But what was even worse was that I knew she should.”
“It isn’t so simple, Inessa.” I dared to take a step toward her. Father’s blood squelched under my slippers and stained its ribbons. “Mother told Alifair that you were born with a heart in two pieces. She never faulted you for it—she wished to mend it.”
“Such things can’t be mended. Understand what I am, Sister. Surely you of all people wish to be done with this tiresome dance, given your hatred of it. What I say is set, as unchangeable as words carved in stone. Return in a hundred years, and it’ll say the same.”
“No, it’s not true. There is time, Inessa. There is time and choice. You are the strongest girl I know. You can do anything, anything at all. We can decide what to do together. We can even go home. I will return to the garden, and you can return as the Radixan queen.”
Inessa turned away. Her shoulders hunched within the thin embrace of the red dress, and her head bowed as though she didn’t wish to see me any longer. Slowly, cautiously, I went to her. I put my arms around her and hugged her.
“No,” she whispered. “Don’t. It’s too late. There’s no going back now.”
“It’s never too late,” I said.
“No, it is—it’s been done. You don’t understand. Bide needs a soul. Either mine or yours. And it isn’t going to be mine.” With that, she grabbed my wrist and thrust me toward the gray rectangle wreathed in grave flowers. Stems lashed out. They roped about my ankles, waist, and wrists. Fiery bands of pain dug into me. I screamed, kicking and fighting. Bit by bit, they dragged me toward the fog and the gray light beyond it. Right before its entrance, they stopped but didn’t release me. Inessa went to Father’s body. She removed his drapery cord from one of his hidden pockets and walked to me.
“In order to be taken,” she said softly, “you must die, and your soul will be freed from your body.”
“No! Inessa, stop!” I screamed. She bent and slipped the drapery cord around my neck as gently as though it were a necklace. She was Father’s daughter, just as I was Mother’s daughter, and suddenly her eyes seemed just as colorless as his. The cord tightened. Pain sliced through my neck. The cord constricted tighter and tighter. Dots burst in front of my eyes, blurring the world around me.
Just like Prince Lambert, just like Aeric, just like Father, I was going to die on the stage.
Chapter
TWENTY-NINE
