“No, I–”
“Heather.” She clasps my hands. “For years, I looked for my brother, and he’s home. He’s finally home and he’shappy. You will not last here. It’s written all over your face, and he will follow wherever you go.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” I shake my head. She can’t be telling me to leave,can she?
“I believe the expression is ‘rip off thebandage.’”
“If you don’t like me, whatever,but like—”
“That is just the problem.” She grimaces as if whatever she’s about to say causes her physical pain. “Idolike you. This ball would be nothing without yourefforts.”
“Okay…” I pause, waiting for the inevitable “but” that will surely follow.
“However…”
There it is.
“No.” I hold up my hand. The dizzy feeling that kept me in bed all day is seeping back the longer I allow this conversation to keep going. We talk in circles, and as soon as a word leaves my mouth, I have a hard time remembering what I said.
Oh god, this level of brain fog isbad.I really should have just stayed in bed. Last time I felt this bad in public, I had to BS my way through a panel and a meet and greet. If not for pictures, I’d think the whole event wasa dream.
“You aresonot trying to tell me to leave your brother in the middle of a grand ball,” I say for what I think might be the second time.
“I will tell him you took to bed. You have been feeling unwell, thenyou can—”
“Can what? There isn’t a way home, remember?” I may know the secret about her mother’s portal, but she doesn’t.
“I will come for you once I have an opening.” She grimaces. “I believe I can send you back with the materials gathered.”
Well, that’s reassuring. If it was up to Holly, who knows what bizarre new world I’d end up in.
“Uh, hello? What part of ‘I’m not going anywhere’ do you not understand?”
“The part where my brother has been trapped in another realm for decades, and he is finally back where he belongs.” She’s shouting now, her butterfly wings sprawled out behind her like the tail of an angry cat. Can’t she see how selfish she’s being? I understand Holly has missed her brother, but we have a life together—not a dalliance or an interlude, a real life that hewantstoreturn to.
“He gets to decide where he belongs. You’re being ridiculous.” I cross my arms.
She visibly calms herself, pinching the bridge of her nose—a family trait that’s beginning to makeme cringe.
“Heather, please,” she begins, and the tone shift is … alarming. Instead of anger, her eyes have grown wide and pleading as she reaches toward me. “You will tear him away from this place, along with any shred of happiness.”
“He’s happy with me!” I half-shout before reminding myself I’d rather not be the one to make a scene during this lavish party. The feeling at the base of my forehead swells, and the ache in my joints multiplies.
It was because ofmethathe missed opening ceremonies and the feast. I could see how distracted he was; he’s usually always stoic, but Moth wasantsy.Something has been bothering him, and in the deepest pits of my stomach, I’ve been worried it’s me. But I’m not going to let Holly twist this. This place is a reminder of both terrible and wonderful things. There’s pain etched into each of the hallways, and the anguish is clear from the way he’s been spending his nights alone in thelibrary.
Moth doesn’t want this, and tomorrow, he’ll be freeof it all.
“He is loyal. I’ve watched how dedicated my brother is to you.” She shakes her head. “He will stay at your side so long as you want him there.”
“Is it so hard for you to believe we’re in love?” I’m so over this. I push past her, ready to return to the ballroom. “Nothing you say is going to changemy mind.”
She lurches forward, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from herpocket.
“Are you certain his love is true?” Her voice is not cruel or taunting, no—there’s a sadness there that’s unexpected. She flattens the piece of paper to reveal Moth’s handwriting.What is this?The cursive script is almost impossible to read with all its flourishes, but I could recognize it anywhere. I’ve seen it a dozen times on scribbles he leaves around the house and on the extremely formal-looking grocery lists he writes for me. But this isn’t a request for more sweets to line our cupboards or a different tea.
This is a breakup note.
“We met as but a human and a monster. You offered me kindness, a life, a home, the warmth of a flame I will always be drawn to. Now, how can I exchange a golden crown with a simple band offlowers?”
