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“Do you want me to ask for more time?”
“Is the fortnight over?”
“It ended seven days ago. You’re mother put the court back on mortal realm time, but time is still moving, and you haven’t left your room.”
What did it matter how long I’d been in bed? Days, weeks, months. Mother could do whatever she wanted with time, and none of it would bring Chris back.
It didn’t matter how long I stayed in bed. I didn’t care about anything beyond these walls.
“Please, Cosette.” He was begging, and maybe if my heart still existed, I would’ve answered him.
But it didn’t. So I couldn’t.
“Talk to me. You’re not eating. You’re only drinking what I pour down your throat. Please, Coco. I know it’s hard, but you have to try to live.” He gave me a shake. “Don’t fade on me. Not now. You’re the only thing keeping me going in this world.”
“You’ll find someone else.” He’d found me. There’d be someone else.
“No. God, Cosette. You’re the daughter of my heart and soul. I can’t watch you die.”
He tried to pull the covers off my face, but I shoved him away. “Then leave.” It was only a tiny hint of the anger I’d had back at Gales. Something had happened when Eli doused the fire and I couldn’t get it back.
Maybe if I tried it would come back. But I didn’t. So it couldn’t.
“Never.”
I felt him lie down behind me, pulling me close.
“I’m here, Cosette. You have people here who love you. Please, live for us.”
“No.” Because I couldn’t live. Not anymore. Not when Chris was dead.
Not when I’d burned him.
Oh, God. Oh, God. OhGodohGodohGod.
The sobs started again. Each one coming from so deep inside me, my whole body jerked with their weight, and I deserved the pain.
Chris had died because of me.
I deserved this pain.
Chapter Twenty
COSETTE
I felt like a soulless doll as the servants dressed me in a midnight blue wedding gown, dusted with starlit glitter filled with magic. As I moved, the glitter would flake off and float to the darkened ceiling to become twinkling stars. It was an artistic bit of magic that Christopher would’ve loved. That was the only reason I hadn’t ripped it to shreds.
Van managed to push our wedding a few more days, but I was as empty as I had been since the second Ziriel stabbed his royal-killer sword into Chris’ heart.
One of the servants tried to take my locket and replace it with some priceless garbage jewelry. I snarled, so they left it alone—they left me alone—for a while.
But then they were back.
They walked me over to a chair, and started tugging on my hair.
I didn’t care. I didn’t feel anything. I was empty—heart, mind, soul.
They could do whatever they wanted to my body, but the rest of me was dead. It had burned to ash with Chris.
