Page 182 of I Dream of Dragons
Like a double image, a mirror in a mirror. Me now and me before, and all the versions of myself, separating and staring back at me.
Dizzy, I rub at my brow.
The seamstress grumbles something about me being too skinny and about the fabric ruining her fingers and bustles off, presumably to work on some other garment. I doubt she’s so busy with the survivors of the second trial when it’s only four of us.
“We’ll pull your hair up,” Daria says, demonstrating, leaving white tendrils to curl at my neck. “Like this. I’m sure the king will like it.”
“I don’t care if he likes it,” I mutter. A silence greets me. I glance at her and find her looking startled. “I wasn’t marked willingly by him, Daria.”
I don’t expect her to believe me, and she goes back to brushing out my hair. “That’s sad, my lady.”
“Indeed it is. Can you help me? Can you find me a weapon that will look like a jewel?”
“My lady?”
I meet her wide eyes in the mirror. “Something sharp but small enough that the king won’t notice it. Not until I’m very close to him.”
I’m taking a huge risk, and not only in hoping a small blade could do real damage. Daria has been open about her hatred of the fae, but at the same time she has seemed terrified of losing her position at the fae court.
Will she aid me? I need allies. My alliances with humans haven’t been a success, except for Mera—but I don’t know if I can trust her, either. But Daria…
“I’ll find something for you, my lady,” she says quietly. “After all, you never know when you may need to cut up some meat on your plate or stab someone for talking too much, right?”
“Right.” I hesitate before meeting her eyes again.
I find her faintly smiling.
Relieved, hoping I haven’t committed a grave error in sort of confiding to her, I let her sit me in a chair and fuss over my hair. Nothing important was ever gained without risks, I remind myself. And luck. I really need some good luck here.
The other maids join her, clipping black diamonds to my earlobes and slipping necklaces dripping onyx and rubies around my neck.
In my white hair, they place black glittering combs. On my fingers, they slip black rings.
All black, against the paleness of me.
The versions of me merge again. The girl in the mirror contains all the versions of me, the years on the shore, the decades in the deep, the innocence, the pain, the fury.
Inside I’m still my angry, broken human self, my armor made of the same fury, twisted up with old scars.
I will end this. I’ll take the risk that the king’s mark will end me if I kill him.
Is he counting on my love for Jai, or for my own life? Is he counting on Jai changing his plans because of me? He’s in for a surprise. At least, I hope I won’t lose my nerve in the last moment and hesitate.
And Jai…
I still have the ball, I think. And the entire night to be with him. Once, long ago, I’d have given anything,everything, to have one more hour with him. One more minute.
Perspective is important.
And so is memory. The memory of all I had, all I lost. The decision to stop the cycle and save everyone else from having to go through such pain again.
CHAPTER FIFTY
RAE
Daria fusses over me as the afternoon deepens into evening. I think I see Remi flying past my window, but he doesn’t linger. I want to talk to him, ask him… if he’s my brother.
I’m scared to ask, in case it’s not true.
