Scarlettâs feelings were a commotion of colors, swirling around her in garlands of excited aquamarine, nervous marigold, and frustrated gingersnap. Sheâd been pacing the suite since her sister had left, somehow knowing that Tella wouldnât be back in time, but also hoping that sheâd prove Scarlett wrong.
She stopped pacing and looked herself over in the mirror once more, to make sure her dress wasnât a reflection of how anxious she felt. The gownâs pale pink lace appeared duller than before, but everything appeared dimmer in this mirror.
The suite Scarlett and Tella rented was a threadbare tapestry of aging items. Both girls had agreed on moving out of the palace. Scarlett had wanted to be independent. Tella claimed the same thing. But Scarlett imagined her younger sister had also wanted to create distance from Legend after how heâd walked away from her at the end of Caraval.
Tella had begged to rent one of the fashionable apartments in the fanciful Satine District, but Scarlett knew that their money had to last beyond one season. As a compromise, theyâd leased a suite of small rooms on the farthest edge of the Satine District, where the trim on the mirrors was more yellow than gold, the chairs were upholstered with scratchy velveteen, and everything smelled chalky, like chipped porcelain. Tella complained about it regularly, but living somewhere modest allowed them to stretch their funds. With most of the money Tella had stolen from their father, theyâd secured this apartment until the end of the year. Scarlett wasnât sure what theyâd do after that, but it wasnât her most pressing concern.
The clock chimed three.
She peered out her window. There were still no signs of Tella among the holiday revelers, but Scarlettâs ground coach had finally arrived. There werenât many in Valenda, as people favored floating carriages to ones that rolled through the street. But, her former fiancé, Count Nicolas dâArcy, or Nicolas as she had started calling him, resided in a country estate outside the cityâs quarters, far beyond any of the floating carriage houses. Knowing this, Scarlett had secured her transport a week ago. What she hadnât known was how crowded the festival would be.
People were already hollering at her coachman to move. He wouldnât wait long. If he left, Scarlett would be stranded and sheâd miss her chance to finally meet Nicolas.
Her lips pinched together as she entered the bedroom where Paloma slept.
.
Scarlett tried not to be bitter. Knowing her mother hadnât meant to abandon them forever, that sheâd been trapped in a cursed Deck of Destiny for the past seven years, made Scarlett more sympathetic to her. But she still couldnât forgive her mother for leaving her and Tella with their wretched father in the first place. She could never see Paloma the same way Tella did.
In fact, Tella would probably be furious when she returned and found Paloma unattended. She was always saying how she didnât want their mother to wake up and be alone. But Scarlett doubted Paloma would wake today. And if Tella was so concerned, she should have come back in time.
Scarlett pulled open the main door to her suite, ready to call for a servant and ask her to keep an eye on their mother. But one of the maids was already there, coral-cheeked and smiling broadly.
âAfternoon, miss.â The servant did a quick half-curtsy. âI came to tell you thereâs a gentleman waiting for you in the first-floor parlor.â
Scarlett looked past the servantâs shoulders. She could see the scratched wood banister, but there was no view of anything downstairs. âDid the gentleman give a name?â
âHe said he wanted to surprise you. Heâs very handsome.â The girl coyly twirled a lock of hair around her finger, as if this attractive young man was standing in front of them.
Scarlett hesitated, considering her options. Perhaps it was Nicolas, come to surprise her. But that didnât sound like him. He was so proper, he hadnât wanted to meet her while the Days of Mourning were being observed; heâd asked her to wait until today for their true courtship to begin.
There was one other person who it might be, but Scarlett didnât want to hope it was him, especially not today. Sheâd vowed not to think about him today. And if it Julian, he was five weeks late. Scarlett might have thought heâd died, except sheâd had Tella ask Legend about it, and heâd confirmed Julian was still alive. Though he didnât say where his brother was, or why heâd failed to contact Scarlett.
âWould you do me a favor?â Scarlett said to the servant. âMy mother is still unwell. She doesnât need anything, but I hate to leave her alone. While Iâm out, would you check on her every half hour in case she wakes?â
Scarlett handed the girl a coin. Then she quietly crept down the stairs, heart in her throat, hoping despite her better judgment that Julian had finally returned and had missed her as much as she missed him. She kept her steps quiet, but the moment she entered the parlor, she forgot how to move. Julianâs eyes met hers from across the room.
Everything was suddenly warmer than it had been before. The parlor walls grew smaller and hotter, as if too much sunlight had snuck in through the windows, covering all the tattered bookshelves and chairs in the sort of hazy afternoon light that left the entire world out of focus, except for him.
He looked perfect.
Scarlett could have easily been convinced heâd just escaped from a fresh painting. The tips of his dark hair were wet, his amber eyes were shining, and his lips parted in a devastating smile.
This was the boy of Scarlettâs dreams.
Of course, Julian probably starred in the dreams of half the girls on the continent as well.
All of her earlier feelings from before transformed into flames of fiery tangerine. Julian couldnât see her colors, but Scarlett didnât want to reveal her feelings with other tells. She didnât want her knees growing weak, or her cheeks turning to blush. And yet she couldnât stop her heart from racing at the sight of him, as if she were preparing to chase him should he run away. Which he had.
He must have been somewhere even warmer than here. His unusually crisp shirtsleeves were neatly rolled up, showing off lean arms. One forearm had a wide white bandage on it that contrasted with his skin, which was several shades darker than his natural golden brown, tanned from wherever Legend had sent him last. The neatly trimmed stubble lining his jaw was thicker and longer than she remembered as well, and covered part of the thin scar that ran from his eye to his jaw. He didnât wear a coat, but he had on a gray vest with shiny silver buttons that matched the lines of fancy thread on the sides of his deep blue trousers, which were tucked into brand-
new leather boots. When sheâd first met Julian, heâd looked like a scoundrel, but now he was pure gentleman.
âHello, Crimson.â
Her dress reacted immediately. Scarlett willed it not to shift and betray any of her feelings, but the gown had always liked Julian. The first time sheâd put on the dress, back on Legendâs isle, sheâd been embarrassed to undress in front of Julian, and a little disappointed because the dress had looked like a dreary rag. Then sheâd put it on, and when she turned and looked at Julian, the gown had transformed into a confection of lace and seductive colors, as if it had somehow known that this was the boy whose heart she needed to win.
Scarlett couldnât see her reflection now, but she could feel the gown shifting. Warm air brushed her décolletage as the dressâs neckline lowered. The skirt tightened to hug the curve of her hips, and the fabricâs color deepened to the ravenous pink of lips longing to be kissed.
Julianâs grin turned wolfish, reminding her of the night heâd first whisked her off her home isle of Trisda. But despite the hungry look in his eyes, he made no move to close the space between them. His elbow rested against a cracked display case as a fresh ray of sunlight streamed through the window, gilding all his edges in gold and making him look even more untouchable.
Scarlett wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but she didnât move from the doorway. âWhen did you return?â she asked coolly.
âA week ago.â
Scarlett wanted to ask. But she reminded herself that she was the one whoâd first put a wedge between them when sheâd told him she wanted to meet her former fiancé.
Julian had said he understood, had said he wanted her to do whatever she needed. But then heâd been sent away on errand from Legend.
heâd promised.
One week had turned into two, then three, then four, then five weeks without so much as a note from him to say he was still alive. She wasnât sure if it was because heâd given up on her or if heâd forgotten about her because he was so busy working for Legend.
Julian pulled at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, bringing Scarlettâs attention back to the bandage wrapped around his arm.
âWere you wounded?â
âWhat happened to your arm?â
âItâs nothing,â he mumbled.
But Scarlett would have sworn he blushed. She didnât even know Julian was capable of blushing. He had no shame. He moved through the world with utter confidence. But his cheeks were definitely flushed, and his eyes refused to meet hers. âIâm sorry I didnât come by sooner.â
âItâs all right,â Scarlett said. âIâm sure youâre very busy with whatever Legend has you doing.â Her gaze flickered once more to the mysterious bandage around his arm and then up to his eyes, which still declined to meet hers. âItâs nice of you to stop by. Itâs good to see you.â She itched to say so much more, but she could hear the carriage horses neighing outside. Scarlett needed to leave before she mucked things up with Nicolas. âIâd love to chat, but unfortunately I was about to step out.â
Julian shoved away from the display cabinet. âIf youâre going to enjoy the festival, Iâll join you.â It was the polite statement of a friend. But Scarlettâs feelings for Julian had always been too strong for friendship, even when sheâd first met him and hadnât liked him at all. Scarlett and Julian could never just be friends. She needed more from him, or she needed him to let her go.
âIâm not going to the festival,â Scarlett said. âIâm finally going to meet Nicolas.â
Julianâs expression fell. It only lasted a moment. If Scarlett had torn her eyes from him for a second, she would have missed it. Almost as soon as he heard what she said, Julian walked past her to the boardinghouse front door. She expected him to leave, to let her go and close the door on them completely.
Instead he opened it with an oddly pleasant smile. âThatâs perfect,â he said, cheerful, as if sheâd just told him they were having coconut cake for dinner. âI can be your chaperone.â
âI donât need a chaperone.â
âDo you already have one?â
Scarlett glared. âYou and I never had one.â
âExactly.â With a smug grin, he swaggered past her to the idling carriage and opened that door as well. But rather than wait for her to enter, Julian slipped into the coach.
Scarlettâs emotions were searing as she entered the coach and took the seat across from him. Julian might have started dressing like a gentleman, but he was still behaving like a scoundrel. Sheâd have understood his frustrating behavior if heâd made any effort to contact her over the past five weeks, or if heâd tried to fight for her after sheâd told him that she wanted to give Nicolas another chance as well, but it seemed all Julian wanted to do was fight against her.
âYouâre trying to sabotage this,â she accused.
âIâd say Iâd never do that, but that would be a lie.â Julian lounged back in his seat, spreading out the way young men always seemed to. Since the streets of Valenda werenât made for coaches, this box was particularly narrow, with barely enough room for the two of them. But Julian stretched his arms across the brocade cushions, and kicked out his legs to take up more than half the space.
Scarlett grabbed one of his knees, knocked it into the other, and pointed toward the door as the carriage began to rumble down the road. âGet out, Julian.â
âNo.â His arms dropped from the cushion and he leaned forward. âIâm not leaving, Crimson. Weâve spent enough time apart.â He placed his hand on top of hers and pressed it firmly to his knee.
Scarlett tried to pull away, but it was in the halfhearted way someone did something when they were actually hoping someone would stop them.
And Julian did. He slipped his brown fingers between hers and held on tighter than he ever had, as if making up for all the weeks he hadnât been able to touch her. âWhile I was gone, I tried to remem ber every word you ever said to me. Iâve thought about you every hour of every day I was away.â
Scarlett fought the urge to smile. It was everything she had wanted to hear. But Julian had always excelled at knowing what to say. It was following through where he fell apart. âThen why didnât you write?â
âYou told me you wanted space to meet your count.â
âI didnât want that much space. For five weeks I heard nothing from you. I thought that youâd forgotten about me or moved on.â She tried not to sound too accusing or too desperate. She felt as if sheâd failed at both, and yet Julianâs earnest expression didnât waver. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown, and warmer than the light slipping through the carriage windows.
âI wonât ever move on, Crimson.â He took her hand and brought it to his heart.
Scarlettâs heart beat wild and uneven in response, but Julianâs remained steady and unwavering beneath her palm.
âIâve made a lot of mistakes. I gave you space, because I thought thatâs what you needed. But I realized as soon as I saw you today that I was wrong. So Iâm in this carriage with you now, ready to go wherever youâre going, even if it means watching you with another man.â
Scarlett crashed back to reality. For a moment sheâd forgotten about Nicolas.
âWhat if I donât want you to watch me with another man?â she said.
âIâm not thrilled about the idea, either.â Julianâs tone turned teasing, but his fingers tensed as the carriage rattled over a bumpy road.
They were nearing the edge of the city, and drawing closer to Nicolasâs estate.
âIf you really want me to leave, Iâll get out of this coach and walk back to the palace,â Julian said. âBut you should know that Iâm also here because I donât trust this count.â
âDo you trust me?â Scarlett said.
âWith my life. But Iâve met your father and I have a difficult time putting faith in anyone who would make a deal with him.â
âNicolas isnât like that.â
When Scarlett had first written Nicolas after learning sheâd not truly met him during Caraval, he had been away from the continent mourning . Her father had lied and said Scarlett and her sister had both died in an accident. He had no idea what a horrible man Marcello Dragna was.
And Nicolas was nothing like her father. He was drawings of plants, and anecdotes about his dog, Timber. He was a rule-follower like her; he believed in tradition so much heâd waited until today to meet her. Nicolas was safe. Scarlett couldnât see him breaking her heart. Julian had already broken her heart twice, and even if Julian didnât intentionally do it again, her heart would break for him eventually.
When Scarlett had first written Nicolas sheâd only wanted to meet him, to cure her curiosity. Then Julian had left for so long, and Nicolasâs letters had been there when Julian hadnât. Steady when Julian had been unreliable.
As a part of Caraval, Julian was ageless. He could die and stay dead if someone killed him when a game wasnât in play, but he would never grow old as long as he was one of Legendâs performers. Scarlett could never ask him to give that up.
She didnât know if Legend would still hold the games now that he was to become emperor. But given how Julian had just disappeared for weeks, it was clear Legend still controlled him. Any future Scarlett and Julian might have together was destined not to last. And yet even knowing all of this, she couldnât bring herself to pull her hand away from his.
âI donât want you to walk back to the palace,â she said. âBut if you ruin this, I swear on the stars, I will never speak to you again. The count has to believe youâre a chaperone. We can tell him that youâre my cousin.â
âThatâs not going to work unless youâre fine with him believing you have an inappropriate relationship with your cousin.â Julian darted closer and pressed a quick kiss to her neck.
Scarlett felt her cheeks go red. âDonât you dare do anything like that!â
He lounged back, laughing hard enough to shake the carriage. âI was only kidding, Crimson, although now Iâm tempted to follow through.â
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