Perhaps it was foolish to hire those assassins—perhaps she’d done too well in training her daughter to avoid them—but no one else in Friv seemed to aim for Daphne’s death. Stars above, the rebels Margaraux had initially been counting on to kill her even came to like her. Margaraux feared if she waited too long, the rebels might rally around her.
“You raised those girls like lambs for the slaughter,” Seline says, bringing her back to the present.
It is an accusation, fitted with knife points, but the blow doesn’t land. It slides off Margaraux’s back like water from a duck’s wing.
“Yes,” she says simply. “That is what lambs are for. I suppose you’re going to tell me you will pray for their souls?”
If Seline hears the mockery in Margaraux’s voice, she doesn’t show it.
“I would if they were human,” she replies evenly. “Star magic can do many magical things, I will admit, but it cannot create a soul.”
That surprises Margaraux, and she leans back, surveying the other woman thoughtfully. “You think they are not human?”
Seline falters for an instant before regaining her footing. “You forget that I was married to the emperor for more than two decades and I never fell pregnant.”
“Perhaps you are barren, then,” Margaraux replies.
“Perhaps,” Seline allows. “And all the many mistresses who came before you? Were they barren as well? Because he never sired a single bastard. I always thought he was the barren one.”
Margaraux purses her lips and doesn’t answer. “You’re speaking treason,” she says after a moment.
“Our little talks have always been full of treason, haven’t they? Treason and filicide and all of your dastardly schemes.”
“Filicide implies that I killed them. I didn’t kill Sophronia—Temarin did.”
“You signed her death warrant before she’d even been born, before she’d even been conceived or created or however it is that she was made.”
Margaraux doesn’t speak for a moment. Instead, she settles her hands on her lap and fixes the former empress with a thoughtful look.
“Conceived,” she says finally. “You aren’t wrong—the emperor couldn’t have children, not without help, without a good deal of star magic, more than even he had access to. That was where Nigellus came in. I assure you, Seline, they are human, mine and the emperor’s, though, yes, perhaps there is a third part to them as well that is something else. I don’t suppose it will matter in a few months’ time.”
A series of emotions flicker over Seline’s face, and Margaraux reads them one by one. Surprise. Horror. Disgust.
“You are a monster,” Seline says, sounding almost awed.
Margaraux doesn’t flinch from the word. “All powerful people are monsters,” she says quietly. “If that is the price I pay, so be it.”
“You don’t pay a price,” Seline says with a harsh laugh. “They do. The daughters of your own flesh and blood, and they don’t even know it. They must think you love them—”
“I do,” Margaraux interrupts, her voice sharp.
Seline searches her face and barks out another laugh. “They are a means to your end and you are sacrificing them, their futures, their lives, to secure your own. That isn’t love.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about children, Seline,” Margaraux replies, her voice cold.
The former empress goes quiet, casting a gaze over her shoulder at the pane of stained-glass sky.
“Why are you here?” she asks. “Why do you insist on dragging me into this, telling me your horrible secrets when you know…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Because you know.”
“That no one will believe you,” Margaraux says. “The jealous spurned wife of the dead emperor, banished to a Sororia to make room for a younger, prettier, more fertile bride? Of course you’re bitter and angry, of course you want nothing more than to see me laid low. No one will believe a word you say against me.”
“I’m not,” Seline says after a second. “Bitter. Or angry. You were willing to sacrifice more for the throne, so you took it. I find I don’t miss being empress. I don’t wish to see you laid low, Margaraux. I merely pity you.”
“Pity?” Margaraux asks, her lips twisting around the word with distaste. “You pity me?”
“I do. Because one day, when you have killed the only three people who have ever loved you, you will realize what you’ve done and you will regret it until the day you die, alone, unloved, and unwelcome among the stars. You took enough control to write the tale of your life. I commend you for that, I do, but the tale you’ve crafted for yourself is a tragedy.”
Margaraux says nothing for a long moment.
“I tire of our conversations,” she says finally, getting to her feet once more.
“And yet you will come back,” Seline says. “You always do. The next time I see you, I’m sure there will be another daughter in the ground.”
She means the words to wound, but Margaraux doesn’t flinch. “Daphne and Beatriz will do their duty. Just as Sophronia did. I raised my daughters well, after all.”
She turns and starts down the aisle, toward the door, but she doesn’t get there before Seline speaks again, determined to have the last word.
“You didn’t raise them, Margaraux. You built them. And now you will bury them.”
Acknowledgments
They say writing books never gets any easier, and neither does writing acknowledgments. Trying to thank everyone who had a hand in making this book the best that it could be feels, as ever, an impossible task, but I’ll try my hardest.
Thank you to my absolutely stellar editor, Krista Marino, for encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone with this book and for giving me a map when I lost my way. Difficult as this book was to shape, I know I came out of it a better writer, thanks to you.
Thank you to my marvelous agent, John Cusick, for all the support and encouragement and for always being calm and rational in the face of my many anxious emails.
Thank you to the whole team at Delacorte Press—Lydia Gregovic and Beverly Horowitz in particular––for believing in this book as much as I do.
Thank you to Random House Children’s Books—the phenomenal Barbara Marcus; my incredible publicist, Jillian Vandall Miao (I’m sorry for naming the villain Margaraux—I swear it’s a coincidence!); Lili Feinberg; Jenn Inzetta; Emma Benshoff; Kelly McGauley; and Caitlin Whalen.
Thank you to my dad and my stepmom for always being a phone call away, and thank you to my brother, Jerry, and sister-in-law, Jill, for having my back. And thank you to my New York City family, Deborah Brown, Jefrey Pollock, and Jesse and Eden.