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“Nothing so dramatic as that. It’s a poetry book. The Fae King of Winter wrote it.”

Her gaze drops down to her lap. “I hate that you have to leave… But most of all, I hate that I can’t go with you.”

A quick, comforting smile glazes over my lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, Cece.”

“How does it work? Are you just going to poof into nothingness?” she asks, the discretion she promised Esme clearly forgotten.

I press my lips together for a moment, unsure if I should tell the truth or not, but her open gaze coaxes information out of me better than any court inquisitor. “I’m going to hide in the shadows and sneak past the guard to get to the mirror downstairs.”

“There’s a mirror downstairs?” she gasps.

“Yes, and it’s huge.”

“Can I see it?”

My smile falters. What would Father do if he knew that I showed it to her? “Maybe next time.”

“I love you, Nell.”

“Love you, too.”

We hug and get to bed, and before I know it, it’s time for me to leave.

There’s something insidious about going back to Faerie by myself. Do I have to return exactly fourteen days later? On the hour? Can I just decide to go whenever I please as long as I’m not late? What if I’d gone early last night? Would that have made me lose the bet?

I pace the mirror room, looking at my pocket watch. Twenty minutes to go… Surely, leaving twenty minutes early would bear no consequence? What if I was a minute late?

Ugh, I hate not knowing.

The glass darkens suddenly. I tighten my grip around my quill and step closer to the mirror to see better as the silhouette slowly sharpens into focus.

On the other side of the glass, a woman holds a matching set of daggers on each side of her at my approach, but the familiar shape of her shoulders melts my fears. It’s not the Shadow King or one of his dark knights, but Lori.

A thin, almost translucent sapphire mask is visible through the opening in her black scarf, and I offer her a small wave. She drops her fighting stance and steps in from the glass.

My pulse drums in my veins. “What are you doing here?”

My worlds are colliding—I can’t deal.

Lori grins proudly, and her shadow daggers vanish, the magic-made weapons flaking off into dark ashes. “Two promised to relieve me from my library duties for a week if I was able to make my way to you without assistance. I’ve never been to the old world, so it took a bit of time.” She looks around the room, and her excitement is contagious. “I’d love to ask you for a tour, but we have to hurry. The harvest celebration starts in an hour.”

Chapter 26

Heart Of Glass

Apleasant evening breeze ghosts along my neck as I soak in the beauty of the gardens from the empty balcony. The luscious rumples of my ball gown sag against the balustrade, and a full-bodied shiver takes hold of my body despite the warmth of the night.

My strapless dress leaves my shoulders bare, the golden-flecked ivory skirt made to match my mask. A layered fishtail braid tumbles down my left shoulder, and I pick nervously at the knotted end.

Instead of the usual banquet, the Foghar festival is a fancy standing picnic. The high tables peppered on the fringes of the dance floor and on the balcony fit four to five people each, but there’s no seat to speak of. The set-up encourages—or rather forces—the guests to mingle. Tiny portions of mouth-watering meals are being passed around by magic trays, but I’m not hungry.

The triplets are a no show so far, as is the Shadow King.

“Emerald and gold—how pretty,” Isobel Umbra chimes as she joins me in my secluded spot. “You look like a fine jewel, seed.”

“Thank you,” I answer politely before taking a sip of water.

Isabel’s blood-red dress shimmers as though it was stitched in twilight. Most of the Fae ladies are wearing beautiful ball gowns showcasing earthy tones like dark orange, burgundy, and violet-red, and I stick out like a dove in a field of fallen leaves.