I was one of the first to reach the hall that night.
The Vesper brothers were present, leaning against one of the trestle tables. I made a point to avoid looking at Lennox, but my gaze drifted to Phelan. He was already looking at me; I took three deep breaths before I broke our stare, walking the length of the hall.
Every minute that passed heightened my worry. The potential manifestation of Phelan’s dreams was the root of it, but there was also the possibility of my parents’ dreams, or Imonie’s, or even Mazarine’s to expose me. I didn’t know if they dreamt of me or not, and it made me anxious.
As soon as I thought about Papa, he appeared in the hall, dressed in his best and prepared to fight. I shared one fleeting glance with him, and then we both ignored each other.
Nura and Olivette did not arrive, and I presumed they were resting that night, safe in their bedchamber.
I watched the last of the light fade through the windows and was surprised to see the duke enter the hall, just as I’d requested. He held a glass of water, and he meandered over to Phelan and Lennox, speaking a few words with them.
Perhaps he had only come here to taunt me. But then the duke met my gaze from across the hall and lifted his glass to me.
I acknowledged him with a bow of my head, just before he departed.
Alliances were not carved in stone, it seemed.
Phelan noticed our exchange, but only because I was never far from his attention. And I couldn’t help but notice his every detail in return. The garments that fit him perfectly: fawn-brown trousers and knee-high boots, a waistcoat embroidered with the phases of the moon, a cravat, a black tailed jacket, and a rapier sheathed at his belt. His dark hair was loose, just as I preferred.
The countess entered the hall next, to my shock. She wore an ink-black dress with a fur draped diagonally across her body, cinched tightly at her waist with a belt of gold. A dagger was sheathed at her hip. I wondered why she was there—she was a magician, but not a warden—and I made my way over to Phelan’s side after Lennox had vacated their table.
“Your mother is planning to fight tonight?” I asked.
“She plans to watch,” Phelan replied. “But your—” He caught himself, clearing his throat. “Mr. Madigan is joining us, I see.”
“Yes,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I hear he was once a great warden.”
“I believe he still is,” Phelan said gently.
“Phelan,” I whispered, and I wanted to ask if he would claim the chair should the dream break tonight. He was the hope of the mountains, because Olivette and Nura didn’t desire it, and Lennox was crooked in heart, and I was full of contradictions and lies. But I lost my courage; the words wilted within me.
He waited, but his mother approached us, and the moment was lost.
“Ah, I am glad to see you here tonight, Anna,” the countess said.
“Yes, Lady Raven,” I replied. “I’m ready to fight beside Phelan, per usual.”
She smiled, but the warmth failed to reach her eyes. “May I have a word with you, my son? Over here with your brother?”
Phelan released a soft sigh, one that I knew expressed his reluctance, but he accompanied his mother back across the hall to where Lennox stood.
I took note of the three of them, plotting in a shadowy corner. My father, who walked the aisle alone. And then there was me, caught between the two, full of hope and doubt and plans of my own.
The night arrived at last. The shadows in the hall sweetened until the multiple hearths ignited with enchanted flame, casting streams of light across the floor.
It took a while for the throne to materialize on the dais. But once it appeared, Emrys arrived to stand beside it like a magistrate at court, and the nightmare was not long to follow.
I watched the hall shift, molting its tables and benches and heraldic banners. The floors rippled into white marble with threads of blue; the timber beams in the ceiling sank to become arched and coffered. Chandeliers bloomed, glittering with silver leaves and candles.
I recognized this place. It was the ballroom at the countess’s mansion in Endellion.
I glanced across the way to look at Lady Raven. Her face was stark, her eyes wide with dread.
This was one of her dreams.
I hung back at its edge and watched.
The phantom countess stood in the center of the ballroom, and beside her was a man, tall and trim with thick dark hair. He reminded me of Phelan, and I knew this was her brother, the Duke of Seren. The magician who had cursed this court and the new moon, whose bones now gleamed beneath his bed.
The phantom countess startled to see him. “What are you doing here, Isidore?”
“You are not pleased to see me, sister? Not even in dreams?”
She was quiet, but I saw how she traced her belt, seeking the hilt of her dagger.
Isidore noticed and smiled, fearless of her. “You cannot kill me in this realm.”
“I was not seeking to.”
“Then what is this blood on your hands?” he asked.
The countess glanced down to see she had smeared blood on her dress. She held up her hands, and they trembled as blood dripped from her fingers and gathered on the floor, inch deep.
“Shall we see all the people you have killed, and those you hope to end?” drawled Isidore, and with a sweep of his hand, more people appeared in the ballroom.
There were ten victims in total, counting the Duke of Seren, and I didn’t recognize any of them, but the air grew tense when they looked at the countess, the woman who had set their deaths in motion. I saw a flash of red hair, long and loose and wild, as a girl walked across the ballroom through the blood.
I felt a stitch in my side when I saw her face.
It was me.
Clem.
And I didn’t know why I was in the countess’s dream. Not until I stood beside the Duke of Seren and the truth sank into me like a blade.
The countess planned to kill me.
I glanced around the nightmare, seeking Phelan. I couldn’t locate him among the fantastical gleam of our surroundings, but I longed more than anything to behold his face in that moment. To see if he had known of his mother’s plans.
Whatever else the dream had in store was altered, because Lennox stepped forward to walk among the victims, his rapier drawn and his hand up, ready to cast. He should have been more patient, I thought with gritted teeth. Now he had interrupted the nightmare, and it would run its own reactive course. I would never know how the countess’s dream truly ended, if she succeeded in killing me.
But perhaps it didn’t matter. Lennox was focused on Clem; he wove his way through the victims to reach her, and I realized that she wore the golden jewel around her neck, just as Anna had the night before. The weakness was me and my stone heart, and I swallowed a curse, irritated that the dreams here seemed fixated on exposing my secret.
Phelan appeared, trailing his brother. “What are you doing, Lee?”
Lennox paused to glance over his shoulder. “She is the key to breaking this dream. Don’t you see it?”
Phelan gazed at Clem. His eyes were dark and filled with longing, and I wondered what thoughts ravaged him as he looked at my phantom.
Clem was silent and pale, rooted to the bloody floor like a statue. The sight of her stillness made me nervous, and I took a step deeper into the dream.
“This is not her, you know,” Lennox taunted, sensing his brother’s attachment, and prepared to pierce Clem’s chest with the tip of his rapier.