Page 75 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Though he’d had some time with her last night before she led him to Emmeline, his chest still constricted at the sight of her. He hadn’t realized she was on that platform during the trial, hadn’t considered it was a possibility. His mind had honed in on Emmeline and shut everyone else out.

When he’d seen Lola outside the estate last night, he nearly broke. But he didn’t allow himself to. He made his fractured spirit bear every emotion associated with what he’d done. Why did he deserve to let out all that pain? He was the one who caused it. He would take it to his grave someday soon.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“I’m okay, Rore,” she whispered, but he knew her well enough to know it wasn’t entirely true. He pulled back, holding her shoulders. Lola gripped his in turn and squeezed. “I swear.”

The two of them had always had an unspoken language. It frustrated Nico to no end when they were little. They’d make rules in a game he didn’t know without even realizing it, and he’d end up in tears until they started over, all cards on the table.

But for the first time, their unspoken language wasn’t enough.

“I’m going to fix this,” he promised. “All of it.”

Worry flashed through Lola’s eyes, but before Roremar could address it, the door flew open.

Emmeline shifted in front of them with a triple blade in each hand, but a familiar voice said, “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, darling.”

“Desmond?” Roremar and Emmeline gasped in unison. Roremar’s wide-eyed stare swung to his sister as Myrella Corvus followed Desmond onto the roof.

Lola shrugged. “I never said this meeting was only us.”

“Fate’s fucks, Lola.” He kissed the top of her head, then ran at his best friend.

Desmond caught him, laughing. “Not wearing the chains anymore?”

“Only for special occasions,” Roremar said as he slapped him on the back.

“They made a good accessory.”

Roremar pulled away. “Want to see if I can get you a pair?”

“Can you ask if they have gold? Goes better with my eyes.” Des blinked dramatically, and Roremar couldn’t help laughing.

“I’m sure they can accommodate your vanity.” Fates, it felt so good to do something as normal as joke with his best friend. “How are you here? What about Fated Ink? And your mother?”

“As soon as you were taken, my mother insisted I couldn’t stay on Lyra. Said she’d look over things at the parlor while I helped you out. Check on your family, too.”

Roremar’s eyes stung. He was lucky to have Des.

Emmeline met Roremar’s eyes over Myrella’s shoulder as she embraced her, and though she tried her best to hide her emotions from him, Roremar felt her gratitude like a blow to the chest.

He was so relieved Emmeline wasn’t alone anymore.

For a moment, it was like waking up after a nightmare, panting and sweat soaked but realizing the monsters were only your imagination. Everything would turn out okay now that none of them were alone. These five people here who were tethered together one way or another would be able to fix this.

But when Myrella glanced at Roremar, the mourning in her expression palpable, doubt flickered through him. He wasn’t sure what to say to her—what to say to his sister or anyone who loved Nico.

The world blurred as he turned away.

He shouldn’t be here.

He should have taken that knife and turned it on himself the second he’d realized what he’d done. Then everyone would be safe⁠—

A hand squeezed his wrist.

He shook off the blur and looked down, but Emmeline was already walking away. She didn’t say anything, but that touch grounded him. Myrella averted her gaze, and Roremar chose to have that conversation another day.

“Myrella, this is my sister, Lola,” Roremar introduced, gesturing between the two. “Lola, Myrella.”