He broke off abruptly, and I instinctively knew that it had cost him to admit the weakness. I wanted to tell him that the iron rot would fade away, that he would get better, but I didn’t know if it would any more than he did.
“You never lost me,” I whispered. “I always knew that we’d…” I broke off, because claiming that I’d had any certainty over the last months seemed like such a lie. “I hoped that…” My breath caught. “I…”
“I know,” he said. And then he kissed me, and all my uncertainty about how he felt was chased away in the press of his lips against mine, the taste of his tongue, the heat of his skin as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Rising onto my tiptoes, I pulled myself against him, relishing his soft intake of breath as my body molded against his, the feel of him so familiar and yet exquisitely unknown. Desire burned low in my stomach—a want that I’d been too long deprived of—making me feel dizzy and breathless.
“Cécile…” His breath tickled against my ear and the lamplight faded dark, then burst brilliantly.
I was dizzy and breathless.
“Cécile?”
“I’m going to faint,” I mumbled, and then my knees buckled and everything went black.
36
Tristan
Had she always been this tiny? I carried Cécile upstairs, finding a bedroom that was all lavender and lace, which managed to be both tidy and disorderly, and knew it was hers. Laying her on the bed, I removed her sodden boots and stockings, but I paused over her dress. It was damp and reeked of smoke, but I hesitated about undressing her while she was unconscious. I’d seen her in less, it was true, but I wasn’t sure she’d appreciate its removal. So I left it on, tucking her under the thick blankets and arranging her tangled hair so that it was no longer in her face.
I did it all without touching her once. Because if I had, all I would have felt was pain.
Removing the manacles had made me feel better, stronger, and no longer at death’s door. But the damage they’d inflicted remained, and it did not seem to be improving. Any attempt to move my hands sent stabbing shocks of agony shooting up my arms, but my fingers were numb and unfeeling. Would they get better, or was this how I was to spend the rest of my days? A lesser, broken version of myself? With most tasks, I could compensate with magic, but not with her. Never again being able to feel her skin beneath my fingertips or to hold her against me without pain was not a loss I’d easily accept.
Dropping to my knees next to the bed, I let my light drift over so I could see Cécile’s face. The rounded cheeks I remembered had hollowed, her bones now sharp and visible through skin that no longer glowed with health. Golden lashes rested over dark bruises like marks beneath her eyes—and the fingernails on the hand that rested next to her chin were bitten down to the point where some had bled. Asleep and without the force of her personality in play, she seemed fragile. Faded.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, kissing her cheek gently before sitting back on my heels.
I was free.
Through magic and sheer force of will, Cécile had broken Anushka’s hold on me. And having been wholly unprepared for the moment, I was still coming to terms with that freedom. It was more overwhelming than I ever could have anticipated.
Closing my eyes, I remembered running down the River Road, faster than the water surging next to me. As fast as I had ever run, as though speed might somehow tear me through the barrier that had bound my people for so long. Terror had lurked deep in my chest as I approached the invisible divide between our world and the outside, knowing it would hurt when I hit it, and knowing that I would do it again and again, with magic and fists until my heart stopped. In that moment, I’d never loved or hated Cécile more, because in one simple command, she’d found a way to end us.
But the curse hadn’t stopped me.
I’d felt it snatching and grabbing at me, trying to hold me back. But something stronger pulled me through, and then I was stumbling, falling onto the sand of the beach. Rolling onto my back, I’d looked up at the night sky, more vast, open, and unending than anything I could ever have imagined. I’d been rendered immobile as I stared up at the tiny pinpricks of light scattered across the sky, their number and brilliance growing as I watched.
It was my father’s voice that had pulled me back to reality, the edge of panic in it. “Tristan?”
I’d sat up, watching as an expression I’d never seen swept across his face. “Find her,” he shouted, and suddenly I was running.
He meant Anushka, I knew, but even if Cécile hadn’t called my name, it would have been her I’d gone to first. Like we were attached by a silken string, I was drawn in her direction, my passage down the dark road and into the city a blur I barely remembered. Even before I was close enough, I swore I could hear her singing, the crystal sound of her voice in my ears as I’d walked through the theatre and found her sitting on the stage, surrounded by flowers. There were moments in life that burned themselves into memory, forever vivid in the mind’s eye. For me, seeing her again on that stage was one of them.
But it was not an untarnished moment.
I did not doubt that she was telling the truth about how she’d come to have my name. I’d heard tell of those who’d dreamed themselves into Arcadia, and it was popular opinion that those who went to sleep and never woke were those whose minds drifted and were caught by winter fey.
But never had I heard of it happening to a human. It made me believe that my uncle was meddling, which was troubling. I was in the debt of the Winter Queen, and knowing that Cécile had incurred a debt to the Summer King made me wonder if this was some game in the endless war between the two kingdoms. What mischief they might bring to this world if they were free to walk here once more. There were fell and dangerous creatures lurking in the shadows of my ancestors’ homeland, and I wasn’t sure we’d be able to control them as we once had. We were not as strong as we once were.
But believing the truth of Cécile’s story did not change the fact that she now had the power to control me. She had not uttered it since, and I did not believe she’d do so idly, but I’d heard it drift across her thoughts, each time it did, my mind going blank of anything other than the anticipation of her command. Her knowing it was what had allowed her to break me free, but there was a large part of me that would have gone eagerly back to my cage to regain the autonomy of my will. And to go back to my work.
Sighing, I climbed to my feet, needing to move. The creature Cécile called Souris was sitting on the floor next to me, tongue lolling out between sharp incisors, surprisingly canny eyes fixed on me. She had said he was a dog, but I wasn’t entirely convinced of the verity of that claim. “Will you watch her for me?” I said to him.
As though understanding my question, the animal made a soft yip and leapt up onto the bed. Pawing at the covers, he rotated in a circle three times before settling down behind her knees. “I’ll be back,” I said.
The rooms next to Cécile’s were devoid of anything other than furniture, but at the end of the hallway, I found the master chambers belonging to her mother.