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“I see it whenever you look at her. Anyone could,” Viola told him with a shrug.
“Cela Johnson is not for me,” Jianyu said stiffly. The easy companionship they’d had between them before was now replaced by formality.
“Perhaps you should give her a say in that decision,” Viola suggested. “Perhaps she would feel otherwise.”
But Jianyu only frowned at her a moment longer before jogging up the steps into the building.
Viola remained on the porch, thinking of bottle-green eyes and curling blond hair as she watched twilight cast shadows and the night cool to a chill. She understood Jianyu’s reluctance, his fear.
She can never be mine. But how Viola wished it were otherwise.
The sky was growing deeper now, a lavender-gray that felt as somber as Viola’s own mood. She wasn’t ready to go in quite yet, so she stood and took her knife from its sheath. With a fluid motion, she sent it sailing toward the fence. Some of the tension in her eased a little at the sound Libitina made as her blade found a home in the weathered wood.
She went to retrieve it and then returned to the spot and threw it again. And again. And again, until she felt her muscles aching and her back beading with sweat despite the coolness of the night air. With the feel of the knife leaving her hand and the sureness of her aim, she could breathe again. She could almost forget.
Suddenly, a sound came from behind her, and she turned, her knife already raised and poised to be launched. Theo Barclay stood there in the shadows, as though her thoughts had somehow summoned him. His hands went up as if in surrender, and he stepped into the light just as Viola managed to stop herself from turning him into a pincushion. Her hands shook a little as she sheathed her knife.
“Why do you people never use a front door?” Viola asked, embarrassment and heartache turning to temper. “I could have killed you just now.”
Theo smiled. “I appreciate your restraint.” Then his smile faltered. “Ruby arrived today,” he said, rocking back a little on his heels. “Her ship came in just this afternoon.”
“You must be happy to have her back,” Viola said. She itched to throw the knife again. To send it sailing through the air. To feel the burn in her muscles and the satisfaction of it landing in the wood.
Theo nodded, and silence stretched between them.
“Is there something else you wanted?” Viola asked, wishing that she had any right to ask after Ruby. Wishing for all the world that she didn’t care how the pampered heiress was.
“I came to bring you an invitation.” Theo stepped toward her, extending an envelope in his well-manicured hand.
“An invitation for what?” Viola looked at the parcel suspiciously before she finally, reluctantly, took it from him. Immediately she was struck by the softness of the paper, the thickness of it. Her name was written in a wild flourish of ink across the front.
“For the wedding,” he told her, looking down at his feet as he spoke. “Ruby and I are finally going through with the ceremony we’ve been putting off for so long.”
Viola’s eyes snapped up in surprise. “When will it be?”
Theo gave her a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “Thursday.”
“So soon,” Viola murmured, her throat growing tight.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, to tell you. This is the first I’ve been able to get away.” Theo let out a long breath. “There’s more. After the wedding, I’m starting a new position. In Kansas City.”
“You’re not leaving?” It had never occurred to her that Theo or Ruby would simply leave. But then, she’d forgotten that, unlike her, they could.
“It’s more that we’re being sent away,” Theo said sourly. “The Order clearly wanted to be sure that neither of us would be in the city for the Conclave. While we were away, everything was arranged for us.”
Viola was still staring at the looping scrawl on the invitation. “Who is it that’s inviting me?” she asked, her traitorous heart clenching a little.
“I am,” Theo said softly.
She should have known that it wouldn’t be Ruby. After everything Viola had said at the gala when Ruby had taken the chance and kissed her? Viola had no right to expect anything more.
“No.” Viola handed the envelope back, pushing it toward him when he wouldn’t take it. “I’m sorry. I wish you happiness, but this, I cannot accept it.”
But Theo only tucked his hands into his pockets. “Keep it,” he told her. “Please. I hope that perhaps you’ll even consider coming.”
To see Ruby Reynolds married? Her head seemed to be shaking of its own volition. “I can’t—”
“If not for me, come for Ruby,” he told her. “She’d want to see you there.”
