Page 184 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“What of the other competitors?” Roremar’s mother asked.

He exchanged a glance with Perry, who said, “A few put up a good fight. Not many more than your son. He has the best motivation.” Perry winked at Emmeline.

“Svalla wants to see me dead more than anyone, though.” Roremar remembered that note he’d found beneath his mattress.

HE WILL HAVE HER.

Ritheus Svalla, or anyone else for that matter, would have Emmeline over his dead body.

“See if your father knows anything about the upcoming trial,” Roremar said, and Perry nodded dutifully.

Still eyeing Perry with suspicion, Emmeline added, “Myrella and I will keep decoding the scroll, but…Feathers and falls.” She straightened, eyes sparkling in a way Roremar was weak for. “Maybe there’s someone here who can help us with all of this.”

Understanding, Roremar joked, “Anyone know how to contact an Angel?”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Emmeline

“Emmeline.”

She spun toward the voice drifting out onto the balcony from the sitting room. Roremar’s mother, Chrysta, stood in the doorway, a long cotton robe wrapping her frame.

“Chrysta,” Emmeline said. “How’s your head?”

She’d said a while ago she was going to check on the younger girls and get some rest, feeling a headache coming on. By now, the sky was shifting toward dawn, the stars beginning to slip away. They’d been awake all night—the children included.

Roremar had gone to find Myrella to see what tea they could brew for his mother. Apparently she’d recommended a few things to Nico in the past. While they were busy, Emmeline had escaped onto the balcony to speak with the fading stars, Cirre sleeping happily at her side.

The apartment was cramped. Not physically, but emotionally. There were so many bodies in there all tethered together, longstanding histories creating a web she barely tied into. The only other one in her position—aside from Perry, who’d dismissed himself a while ago, much to Emmeline’s suspicion—was Myrella, but she’d been easily initiated into the family during her time with Nico.

Emmeline had needed a moment alone. Trying to wrestle with that feeling of otherness no one within those walls pushed on her and yet she couldn’t shake. It was like she was looking at them all through a thin plane of perfectly clear glass. She wasn’t missing a thing, but still she was apart.

She had to get back to the manor. Sneak back into her sheltered bubble with guards at the door. But for a little longer, she wanted to breathe in the peace out here.

They overlooked a private courtyard only those with apartment keys had access to. After the vineyard party yesterday, all the other windows were dark. It was as safe as Emmeline could possibly feel, knowing she’d always be watched.

“The tea helped,” Chrysta said. “I’ll be okay for a bit longer.” Her slippers shuffled across the tile as she moved to the railing beside Emmeline, mug steaming between her palms. The tendrils turned her wan cheeks pinker. “Thank you, Emmeline.”

Her heart clenched. “For what?”

“For all you’ve done for our family these past few months.”

“I don’t know that I’ve done much,” Emmeline answered, twisting her ring. “I haven’t been able to get Roremar out of this tournament despite my supposed status. I didn’t figure out what was happening before Nico…”

“Stopping bad events from occurring isn’t the only way to help. Sometimes it’s about being present.” Her words crawled across Emmeline’s skin, into the cracks her own mother’s death had left in her heart. “You’ve stood by us in the darkness that’s followed it all. You’ve looked out for Roremar—and now Lola, too. For that, I can’t express my gratitude enough.” Chrysta looked at her with the same clarity her son did. She was quieter, an observer, but it was obvious this was where Roremar got his keen instincts, his ability to understand others more than they wanted him to.

If her mother was still here, what would people say Emmeline inherited from her? Would it be the way she walked, the shape of her nose? The sound of her laugh? When she found her sister, would there be traits Roremar noticed they shared?

Emmeline swallowed the lump in her throat. “They’re easy to want to take care of. You’ve raised wonderful children—all of them.”

Laughter bubbled from inside as Siena tried to sneak out of bed. Roremar caught her around the waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Chrysta watched them with an easy, adoring smile, and the pinch in Emmeline’s chest twisted.

Lola strode out of the kitchen, taking her youngest sister’s hand when Roremar set her down. She pulled Siena to the couch and plopped her on the cushion, sectioning her hair out for two braids.

“Is it nice to have Lola back with them?” Emmeline asked, desperate to steer the conversation away from herself.

“It is.” Chrysta peered back at Lola as if memorizing the smile on her face. “Lola’s not close with the younger kids. It’s special to see them together despite the circumstances. Good to see them laugh. It reminds me there are reasons we all go on after tragedy.”