Evangeline

Barrow's outdone herself. She managed to piss off Maven, the Scarlet Guard, Cal, Montfort, Anabel, Piedmont, Julian, the Rift, and the Lakelands in one fell swoop. It's a miracle no one's skewered her.

A year ago, I would've included myself on that list.

How times change.

The bracelet lies on the table, dull with misuse. Figures. Barrow wouldn't know how to treat such finery. Some ugly yellow-white slivers peek between the strands, as if she'd dunked it in a barrel of chicken fat. How did she manage to destroy it so thoroughly?

Unless . . .

The strands unwind with a flick of my wrist, shifting and straightening until paper tumbles from the center, so thin it might crumble to dust if gripped too hard. One. Two. Three. Four.

Dear Cal,

Mare goes on to explain herself, what she's learned of Maven and his mind, the cracks she's dug into. I hope you'll forgive me. I know I've been sending mixed signals, but I've had to be careful not to cause suspicion. Please move on.

I'm not worth it.

I set it aside, moving on to the next. Dear Farley,

Sketches of palace tunnels tumble from my fingers, lists of inscrutable numbers and copied slips of conversations. Her explanation is brief. The information is all the proof she needs.

Two letters remain. To her family, she cushions her captivity with reassurances and questions, all trivial and meaningless, gentle details to distract from her pain. I'm not in danger. I promise.

I love you.

I unfold the last letter, trembling. There's only one person it could be addressed to.

Evangeline,

I hope this reaches you in a good mood. All the letters are addressed to their recipients, though I've no doubt you've read them anyway. I've hidden some insults within them for you should you snoop, which would serve you right.

I can't force you to deliver them. No one can force Evangeline Samos, not unless they're prepared to lose several limbs. I volunteer Maven's. I'm sure he won't mind.

But you should know that if you asked me to deliver letters to Elane, Wren, or, perish, Ptolemus, I would. Our positions are not that different, though I would scarce call them the same. Cal is a fraction the monster Maven is, and I am capable of loving Maven, however mangled. If you marry him, let it be your decision. Not your parents'.

We have so few in life.

The letter clatters to the floor, fingers twitching. Barrow. Can't mind her own business. Has to make everything about her and her boy toys.

My eyes water. What is wrong with me? A Samos does not cry. Especially from the words of a glorified rat.

No matter how true they are.

I tuck the letters into my pocket. I'm not her errand girl. I'm not chasing anyone down. But if any of them happen to cross my path, I won't withhold them.

"I know you're there," I whisper. My beautiful shadow. She wouldn't disturb me unless I asked her to, and I long for a disturbance more than anything else.

Elane materializes on my bed, skin aglow. Her eyes are trained on the floor, hair tumbling in a ruby waterfall onto her chest. "She returned it."

I repair the bracelet and hand it to her. "Not much of a gift. It always belonged to you. It's why I made it."

"Hmm." She slips beside me. "So many messages."

"None of them worthwhile. I ought to throw them out," I scoff. "She doesn't know me."

"I do." Elane drapes her arms around my neck. "She makes a point."

No. "It's treason. We can't abandon our legacies for small dreams. It's not possible."

"Small." Her voice breaks.

"I didn't mean it like that." I grasp her hand, sniffling. "You're my world. But it would be selfish to claim my world as the only one that matters."

"It has to matter to someone. We know they'll squeeze the life out of us until our eyes grow dull, and then squeeze some more. They don't care about us. They never have."

I can't look at her. I'll break.

A knock at the door, impatient and demanding. I asked no one disturb me. Either they've no sense, or someone wishes them a poor fate. "Get lost."

Another knock.

"Leave, or I'll skewer you."

"Go ahead. Good luck explaining to Cal."

It's that red boy that insists on tagging along everywhere, spewing his opinion uninvited. What business he has with me, it can't be worthwhile. "You assume he cares. Don't waste my time."

"Do you want the letter or not?"

I lean against the doorway. "Why you?"

"Must have been the only one brave enough." He rolls his eyes. "Are you just going to stand here? Believe it or not, I'm not dying to wait on an egotistical pincushion."

I snatch the envelope from his hands, a familiar crest peaking between my fingers. Montfort. What could they want from me?

"Now if you'll excuse me-" My hand snags his. "What now?"

"You knew her, right?" I fumble for the letters, shoving them in his arms. "You can send these where she wants?"

It takes a second to click. "Mare?"

"Yes." I tap my foot. "I'm not her errand girl."

"Neither am I." He clutches them as if they might disappear. "How?"

"I'm not giving a play-by-play."

"Never mind." He stuffs them in his pocket. "Thanks, I guess."

I sniff. "You're doing me a favor."

"If you say so." Kilorn steps backwards, hesitating. "Though if you wanna pay it back, you should take Montfort's offer."

My nose wrinkles. "What does that mean?"

"None of your business. "

I slam the door in his face.