“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, leading me around the room.
“I am,” I said, and it wasn’t a lie. Even the dance was enjoyable after all.
“Happy birthday, little lady,” an old man said as he passed us.
“Thank y—” I started, but he was already gone, swallowed back by the crowd.
We moved on.
“I’m glad to hear that.” She gently pet my hand. “I’m sorry you have to celebrate without your mother.”
My head twisted in her direction. That sounded like the first genuine sentence she said to me. Yet, I didn’t know what to say. The air seemed to press in, thick and sudden, and I couldn’t breathe. I slid my arm out from Lilian’s hold.
“Sorry,” I murmured, already moving toward the nearest exit.
A cold wind met me as I stepped into the garden. I drew a deep breath of frosty air, my lungs easing, and my gaze drifting around.
The maze loomed ahead, lit with crimson lights that made it seem even more blood-chilling than it already was. People walked around it, their arms looped into each other’s. Instead of going back to the ballroom, I chose a different path. I moved through an arbour made of red and pink vines, leading me deeper into the grounds, before halting in a grove.
This was a sight I wasn’t familiar with. Mirrors of every shape and size leaned against trees and nestled among shrubs, their gilded frames dulled by time. Fairy lights twined above, bathing the leaves in a golden haze and casting fractured reflections onto the earth below. It was like stepping into a fairy tale.
I glanced around. Where exactly was I supposed to find Preston?
Cold swept across my bare shoulders. The weight of my dress clung to me like lead, its fabric suddenly too heavy for my skin beneath. I wandered through the grove, my footsteps hushed, until a rustle drew my attention. A couple fiercely kissed on a nearby bench, their bodies tangled.
I looked away, my cheeks heating.
“Romance,” a voice drawled, and I turned again. A boy stepped from the shadows, wearing a bronze hyena-like mask. The flickering lights caught his eyes, turning them amber. “Overrated, if you ask me.”
I narrowed my eyes, watching him suspiciously. I wasn’t in the mood for theatrics.
“The name is Abraxas,” he continued, undeterred. There was something unsettling in the way he moved, too elegant, too cat-like. Yet familiar. “And you’re the birthday girl.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
“I don’t know you,” I said, my spine straightening like a blade.
But he only smiled, crooked and knowing, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yet.” He tossed the word like I should’ve known better.
Don’t engage with strangers.
I’m trying, Mum.
The wind tossed his curls as he tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he was eager to solve. I estimated he wasn’t muchyounger than me. He also wasn’t much taller either, and yet unease slid down my spine like cold silk.
“You don’t look strong to me,” he said, as if responding to a question no one asked. “Not stronger than any other girl.” He came closer, sizing me up, like I was a broken doll he couldn’t wait to toss. “Nothing special.”
My jaw clenched. He sounded like Preston. “Good thing it’s not about looks,” I said through my teeth, my fingers reaching for my penknife to find my thigh bare.
The twins’ wooden vanity flashed in my mind’s eye, the silver blade glinting on it, lonely and left behind. I cursed under my breath, my breath shortening.
His brows moved, taunting, and he took another step forward. I raised a hand, more instinct than threat, and to my surprise it made him stop.Coward.
“You should leave,” I said coolly, willing steel into every syllable.
I had faced worse than this. Worse than a little boy with too much ego in his hands. I took a step in his direction, daring him to push his luck. I could fight just as well without my knife as I could with it. The only problem would be the dress.
His mouth twisted, unamused. “Or maybe, they were wrong about you…” he muttered, brushing his fingers over his chin.
