Page 44 of The Black Key

A vein in his neck throbs. Then he crumples, the sobs heaving in his chest. I kneel beside him and take his hand in mine.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper.

Garnet’s head falls onto my shoulder, and I let his tears soak my dress for a while, until we hear voices outside. Regimental boots are marching up and down the corridors. Garnet sits up and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“You should go,” he says. “We shouldn’t be in here together.”

I stand. Then I kiss him on the forehead. He gives me a watery smile, before I slip back into the halls. I’m so tired. I want my bed.

I’m almost at the glass promenade when I run into Dr. Blythe. All my exhaustion disappears in a flood of adrenaline. He looks drained, mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

“Good evening,” he says, then frowns. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

My heart leaps into my throat. He’ll know my voice.

“I’m Imogen,” I say, grateful that I’m already so full of emotion, the words come out thick and muddled. “Coral’s new lady-in-waiting.”

“Ah.” He sighs and puts the handkerchief back in his pocket. “You didn’t suffer any injuries, did you? I’d be happy to examine you.”

That would be a terrible idea, since nothing about my body has changed. I shake my head vigorously.

“The surrogate?” I ask. “Is she all right?”

One of his eyebrows curves up, curious. “She is fine. I’d thought you’d be more concerned with Cora.”

“Yes, I—how is Cora?” I can feel my cheeks turning pink and I try to will the color away.

Dr. Blythe studies me for a moment. “She’s fine. The bullet grazed her shoulder. She saved the surrogate’s life.” He rubs his temple. “I’m sorry, have we met before? You seem familiar somehow.”

“I don’t think so,” I say, looking down. “Please excuse me, I’m very tired. It’s good to hear that Cora is all right. Good night, Doctor.”

Stop talking, Violet, I scream at myself inwardly. Without waiting for a response from Dr. Blythe, I hurry down the glass corridor, not stopping or looking up until I’ve reached my room and closed and locked the door. I collapse on the bed and the weight of the whole evening crashes down on me.

A tear leaks from the corner of my eye and leaves a warm trail down my cheek. So many tears being spilled tonight.

I feel like such a fool. I can’t protect Hazel here. Ash was right. And who am I to tell anyone what to do, how much to risk and for whom?

I wish desperately for our hayloft. I want to sink down on the woolen blanket and feel his arms around me, his breath stirring my hair as I let out all my fears and frustrations. I want to feel as though I am loved, no matter what decisions or mistakes I’ve made.

Because I love him for all of his.

My arcana begins to buzz. I yank it from my hair and my bun comes loose, blond waves falling around my shoulders.

“What happened?” I demand, before Lucien has a chance to say anything. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” I’ve never heard him sound like this before. Confused. Almost frightened. “I cannot believe the Electress would orchestrate something like this on her own but . . . if she did, it’s a very bad sign.”

“How?”

“It would mean she no longer trusts me, and that is something we cannot afford.”

“So do you think she planned it or not?” I say.

“She was by Hazel’s side all night, until right before the shooting began, when she insisted on going inside because it was cold, even though this night was quite pleasant. She and the Exetor were whisked away immediately and she insisted I come with them, even though she knew I could help with the injured. After all, I have saved your life before. Perhaps she did not want me to repeat the performance.”

“We’ve got to keep her away from Hazel,” I say.

“I have no power to do that,” he says gently.