Ragne shakes her head. Then her hair singes ginger and freckles bloom over her face, until I’m looking at my mirror image. “I grow and fade with the moon. By the full moon, I will be greater still.”
Now that I think about it, she isn’t napping as much, and she’s held larger shapes for longer. “Terrifying,” I say. “Can you talk like me, though?”
Ragne turns to the rest of the table and screws up her face into a garish leer. “I am the Vanja. I take things and I am mean for no reason.”
Emeric has an abrupt coughing fit; Gisele and Joniza make no such pretense, clapping hands over their mouths as they nearly fall out of their seats laughing.
I just scowl. “False. I’m always mean for a reason.”
“I’m always mean for a reason,” Ragne mimics.
“Cute, but she still has to make small talk,” Joniza says. “Ragne, what would you say if Countess von Folkenstein told you that she was expecting?”
Ragne blinks. “Expecting what?”
“Sieglinde’s pregnant?” Gisele blurts out at the same time.
“Maybe there’s your answer.” Joniza looks from me to Gisele. “Give back the pearls. Gisele can be, well, herself.”
I’m surprised to hear Gisele say “No” at the same time I do.
“You don’t want the pearls?” I ask, incredulous.
She pushes back from the table, shaking her head. “Not while the margrave’s trying to kill me. It’s not safe.”
“Right, better to lose a red penny than a white,” I say coldly.
“That’s not what I’m saying—”
“That’sexactlywhat you’re saying.”
“I can protect the Gisele,” Ragne interrupts, shifting until she’s back in her own human shape, raven-haired and red-eyed. “At the ball. I can hide as a maid, or as a mouse, or almost anything at all. I can keep the Gisele safe.”
I start to throw out something acerbic and catch myself. Gisele and I have too many miles of thorns between us to cross right now, and we will happily keep tearing each other to pieces until sunrise.
“That could work,” I say instead. “I guess you’re bringing her to the ball after all, Junior.” Then I blanch. “No. Wait. Irmgard will be there. If you come as a guest, she’ll recognize you without the pearls.”
Gisele flushes. “Then how am I going to get in?”
“It’s getting late.” Emeric knots off his thread. “And we all could probably use some sleep. We’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. Let’s reconvene—”
“We’re not done,” Gisele interrupts, sudden frost in her tone. “What happens to Vanja after this?”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Prefect Klemens should arrest you,” Gisele spits. “You stole my name, my betrothal, my face, and apparently almost a thousandgildenworth of jewelry. You don’t just get to walk away from that.”
And just like that, we are back in the thorns, and I don’t care how much I bleed if it means I can wrap some around her throat.
“I stole a face that wasn’t yours to begin with,” I hiss. “You want your cute little husband back, you can have him. And yes, I stole your name and some jewelry, but I’d call that back pay for what your family owes me.”
Gisele stands, planting her hands on the table, voice rising. “You had food, clothing, and a roof over your head. My family gave youeverything.”
I’m on my feet before I know it, a feral, explosive rage roaring down every vein. The world ruthlessly contracts to just her and me in this room, the white penny and the red. “If we’re keeping ledgers, then I hope there’s a line for the scars on my back. I hope there’s a line for my damn childhood, Gisele, because your family stole that and got away with it. You’re angry over losing a year, I’m angry over losing adecade.”
She stares at me, stunned into silence. High Gods and Low, it feels good to say this to her face. It feels even better that no one at the table is coming to her rescue. I want her to feel that lonely, awful terror. I want her to feel it in her bones.
“What, no white pennies to hand out this time?” I snarl, enjoying her flinch a little too much. “Youwantedme to take those pearls. You should bebeggingme not to throw them into the Yssar once I’m—”
