The silence is deafening until Blossom breaks it with her quiet voice. “You know you cannot do this. It’s too risky, and if something were to happen to you, I’d never forgive myself.”
Chewing my lip, I nod. I may have already told the Scorpion I’d do it, but with every passing hour I’m closer and closer to changing my mind. Even if I wanted to go, could I really leave my sisters? Going to seek help for them in Night Alley was one thing, but leaving the palace to assist a band of criminals on a heist…
It’s madness!
“He did do us all a huge favour by dealing with Hugo, though,” Dahlia adds, earning another one of Blossom’s famous scowls. “And, if you go with him tonight, then effectively your dealings with him are done and you’ll never have to see him again.” Her tone is flat, but her smile tells a different, more devious story. “That’s what you want, right? To never see him again?”
My gaze drops to the floor. “Of course.”
With a sigh, Blossom leans back in her chair. “Perhaps we should go to the Captain of the Guards,” she suggests. “We can let him know about your problem and order him not to tell Father. Then maybe he can send some soldiers out to Night Alley, and?—
“No!” I cut her off. “I mean…” I fumble for the right words while Dahlia raises an eyebrow. “I mean to say that Kasimir deserves to be repaid for helping us, not intimidated by a group of soldiers.”
“Kasimir?” Dahlia muses.
“Yes.” I clear my throat, adjusting in my seat. “Kasimir is his name. The Scorpion.”
Dahlia grins. “Interesting…”
“Enough of this nonsense.” Blossom’s voice slices between us. “It doesn’t matter what his name is. All that matters is that you, Ami,” she glares at me with narrowed eyes, “do not go with that man tonight. There must be another way we can repay him.”
Dahlia shrugs. “I’ll happily take Ami’s place.”
“No!” Both Blossom and I shout in unison as Dahlia just cackles in her armchair.
Wincing, I press against my temples. This conversation was supposed to help. Blossom was supposed to help me find a way out of this, or at least talk some sense into me. Instead, I’m feeling even more confused.
Perhaps, for once, Dahlia is right. All I have to do is help him for one night, and it’s not like he wants me to kill anyone for him. All he wants me to do is dance, – and I love dancing…
“Ami?” Blossom’s voice startles me. “Promise me you won’t go with him tonight. I don’t know how yet, but we’ll figure out another way to pay him back. You don’t need to put yourself in danger for him.”
Holding my breath, my heart pounds. “I promise.”
“So boring,” Dahlia groans, flopping back in her seat.
Blossom glares at her before launching into a tirade Father would be proud of. Dahlia hisses something back, probably equally as cruel. But I barely hear the two of them over the blood roaring in my ears.
Because while my third sister and I may have her differences, for once, like her, I might not keep my promises.
I regret my decision the moment I reach the palace stables.
Bertie’s there to greet me, his huge, heavy form lurking by the treeline. In his hands, he holds the reins for Destiny, already saddled up and ready for me to ride.
Destiny seems to share the same nerves I do, her ears twitching and her hooves stamping into the soggy ground. Then again, maybe it’s just the rain that’s irritating her. It hasn’t stopped pouring since noon, and my midnight cloak and gown are already soaked from the walk here.
By the time we arrive in Night Alley, funeral music echoes through my mind.
Bertie’s quick to assist me down from Destiny, taking her reins before fastening them to a tree. Within minutes, I’m being pushed towards a familiar black front door marking the entrance to an ominous, looming house.
A dark shiver crawls up my spine while Bertie knocks at the door. I can’t help but wonder if the Scorpion will be waiting on the other side to greet me.
But when the door swings open, I’m face to face with a tall, completely different, dark-haired stranger.
“Well, I’ll be damned…” A tawny-skinned woman, much older than I, with her raven hair tied back in a tight bun, stares down at me. “Little miss princess actually showed up.”
Fear claws up my throat. Before I can consider sprinting back the way we came, she holds out her palm and Bertie slaps a few coins into it.
“Fucking prick wins again,” she huffs out a laugh.
