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Thankfully, breakfast was delivered on a tray the next morning. According to the girl who delivered it, no one had time for a formal meal when they were busy preparing for the party.
I had opened my window the night before, letting Phoenix inside, and with the falcon to keep me company, I hid inside my room like a coward all day.
Eventually I had to emerge, however. I knew that if I didn’t give Grey a chance to find me before the party began, he’d come barging into my room, and I couldn’t bear to have him inside my one safe haven.
Sure enough, I’d barely stepped out of the house when he appeared. Grabbing my arm, he whisked me off to the rose garden.
“Everything is working perfectly,” he said as soon as he was sure we were alone. “You might as well have released a hornet’s nest in the manor house. They’re all furious.”
“And that’s a good thing?” I couldn’t quite keep the skepticism out of my voice.
Grey shot me a look, and I added, “Aren’t you worried they’re all going to team up and come after you?”
He relaxed at this suggestion that I was only concerned for him. I hoped he did mean to explain, however, since I was legitimately curious as to what he hoped to achieve by oversetting the Constantines’ very fragile balance.
An unnerving smile spread over his face. “That’s why we’re going to direct their attention and anger elsewhere.”
“We?” I asked, my voice squeaking.
“Don’t worry, my dear.” He patted my hand. “You’ve proven yourself more than capable. All my lessons have paid off.”
Trickling cold started in my scalp and crept down. I wished I could block my ears and not hear whatever Grey was going to say next because I already knew I wasn’t going to like it. I had convinced myself that it wouldn’t do any great harm to play along with Grey for one mesmerization—that it was even serving the greater good. But in retrospect I could see my mistake. If the results of my efforts pleased Grey this much, then I had greatly underestimated their significance.
I had known it was the wrong thing to do to mesmerize anyone, but I had done it anyway. Now I was learning the lesson again—hopefully for the last time—but was it already too late?
“During the party, I’m going to lure Ignatius away,” Grey said. “I’ll find a way to keep him occupied just long enough. All we need is to have him out of sight.”
“Wh…Why?” I managed to choke out.
“As soon as you see me disappear, you need to find Augustine. Mesmerize him into believing Ignatius is dead and Ambrose and Barnabas were the ones to kill him. That’s all you have to do.”
“Just…just that,” I whispered weakly, and Grey nodded, apparently taking my words as understanding and agreement.
I could barely see him, though, my vision a haze as I finally realized what Grey was planning. He must have been assuming that, in my mesmerized state, I wouldn’t understand his intentions. But he didn’t know what Nik had said to me back on the ship after I mesmerized him into believing Ember was dead.
Back then, Nik had imagined a situation all too much like this one. He had said that you couldn’t order someone to kill, but you could manipulate them into doing it of their own volition—for instance, by claiming someone they loved was dead. Grey intended for Augustine to retaliate against his brother and nephew, ripping the Constantine family apart in the most vicious and violent way, and ensuring that whoever was left at the end was easy pickings for Grey.
I wouldn’t do it. However evil the Constantines were, there was no way I would be party to this.
But I couldn’t say as much to Grey right now. That would be suicide. I had to at least pretend I meant to comply.
I went through the motions, glad Grey was too distracted by his plan to expect any particular input from me. If only I had come out of my room earlier. At this point, the party was almost ready to start, and I had far too little time to work out what to do.
I trailed behind Grey back to the manor house, racking my brains for a plan. But the harder I thought, the more any sensible ideas escaped me. Instead, my mind whirled in a circle, moving faster and faster and less and less productively.
One of Grey’s female followers met me outside my room, gushing excitedly about the beautiful dresses we’d been loaned for the occasion. Her room was next to mine, and she was already wearing hers, a floating yellow concoction that reminded me of a dessert.
She wanted to accompany me inside to see mine, and I let her, my mind numbed by panic. The gown laid out on my bed was a deep forest green, and in normal circumstances, I would have been as excited about its elegant flowing lines as my companion. I had certainly never worn such a garment before.
As it was, however, I stepped into it mindlessly, letting the serving girl who arrived to assist me do up the endless row of buttons. She chattered away the entire time she buttoned, eventually breaking through my fog enough that I recognized her as the girl who had told me about the party the day before.
Her excitement hadn’t dimmed in the intervening time, and she enthusiastically offered to arrange my hair. I agreed, glad I didn’t have to think about it myself, and she somehow wrestled the tight curls into a complicated pattern of braids that crisscrossed my head.
Even through the confusion and panic, I recognized her skill, marveling at the face looking back at me from the mirror. I looked older, more confident, and more womanly. I just wished the appearance came with wisdom to match it. If only Amara was here to tell me what to do.
If I told the Constantines about Grey’s plan, they would be more than a match for him with their numbers and combined strength. But where would that leave me and Tartora? If I did nothing, however, Grey would soon realize my betrayal and do something even more drastic—but this time I would be another name on the list of intended victims.
Far too soon, the serving girl was declaring me finished and ushering me out the door. Phoenix had already been banished outside, and I wished I had a beak and claws of my own so I could scratch and fight, struggling against the inexorable forces sweeping me forward.
