Page 122 of Glass

“Because I’m calling in your debt, Crispin,” I say shortly. “All of it. Every penny.”

For a moment, I wonder if he might faint. He reaches out, staggering before he finds a chair and drops into it. “Now, then, Silas, let’s talk about this like grown men.”

“Indeed.” My voice is cold. “There is one option to stop this. It makes you the one in charge, Crispin.”

He brightens a little. “Really?”

“For tonight,” Rafe drawls behind me. “Don’t get too excited, Crispy.”

When I tell him, I’m not expecting his response. His face actually… brightens. “So I don’t have to marry Ella after all?”

I’m fairly certain that we all have matching expressions of disbelief on our faces.

“No,” I say drily. “Not if you do exactly as we tell you.”

He doesn’t seem to be disappointed. And when we leave, he offers Anastasia his arm.

“My apologies for the mix up,” he murmurs to her. “We’ll get this sorted out in a jiffy.”

We walk out into the main hall. And as people see Stasi, holding gingerly to Crispin, the whispers start up. In a sweeping, growing wave that moves across the room.

Right to where Ella is seated, a plethora of adoring, empty-headed men in front of her.

Her eyes lock onto us as Crispin murmurs to a footman. She stands, and sweeps towards us in her bronze silk down. “Crispin? What’s the meaning of this?”

Her voice is shrill. I’m sure Crispin shudders before he takes the microphone from the footman, holding it to his mouth.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announces. “I beg your attention for a moment.”

The orchestra cuts out, all faces turning to us. And people step back, creating a space for us, with Ella opposite. She’s squinting at Anastasia, standing tall beside Crispin.

And we spread out to flank them.

“Thank you.” Crispin smiles. “I’m afraid that I have a rather… difficult announcement to make.”

His words send the people in the room into a whispering frenzy, and he raises his arm for quiet.

“It has been brought to my attention,” he says gravely, “that we, the Crown, and the public of Sorelle have beengravelymisinformed.”

The one thing Crispin has in his favor is his ability to hold a crowd. Everyone hangs on his words, total silence spreading.

“It grieves me greatly to say it,” he says gravely, “but Ella Cooper, you are under arrest.”

Silence. Total, shocked silence, as heads turn to Ella. Then towards Anastasia. And the ripples begin again.

Ella Cooper stands there with her mouth open. “What?”

“You are under arrest for fraud and false representation to the crown,” Crispin says in a sad tone. “You have lied to us, Ella. Lied to me. Blamed your sister, when in fact it was you all along.”

And Ella turns towards Stasi, her face lighting in realization. “Oh, you littlebitch.”

The crowd begins to titter at her tone, and Ella glances around. Her face crumples. “Crispin. Please. I love you. You can’t possibly believeher.”

“New evidence has come to light,” Crispin says sagely. And then glances to us, his eyes widening in panic.

But Anastasia is ready. She steps forward and turns.

Showing her bare, scarred back to the room.