Twenty-Nine

The doorbell rings, chiming through the anticipation and anxiety I’ve been dulling with champagne, chocolate lava cake, and crème br?lée. I throw back the last swig of champagne bubbling in the bottom of my glass and rush to open the door. A bevy of people—their arms loaded with bags, makeup kits, and various styling and lighting tools—fills the hall outside my suite.

Vic grins, his eyes wide like he’s just won a free car. “Thirty-seven minutes,” he croons. “Can’t bake a pie in that amount of time, but, girl, I’ve assembled a team Margot Robbie would drool over.”

They sweep inside, and it takes seconds before they start moving furniture to set up stations around the main living room, transforming the suite into a makeshift salon. The air buzzes with the sound of bags unzipping and the click of makeup cases opening while extra mirrors and lighting are set up to ensure perfection.

Vic approaches, wheeling a garment rack packed with black bags. “I had a friend at Neiman’s choose some options, but there’s clearly one winner. I won’t even waste your time with the others.”

He unzips the first bag, revealing a ruby-red dress straight out of a Renaissance painting. I marvel at its plunging neckline and formfitting bodice stitched with elaborate gold embroidery and beadwork that extends down to the hips. The intricate gold details continue onto the full flowing skirt crafted from layers of tulle and satin. The fabric shimmers with each movement, as if woven with threads of pure sunlight.

“Told you we’d start with the best.” He peels back the garment bag, freeing the dress from its protective cover. I press my hand to my chest, breathless as the gown’s train cascades onto the floor like an apple dipped in gold.

“You weren’t kidding,” I say, gliding my fingers along the embroidery. The stitchwork and beading shimmer under the extra lights, each detail glinting in a way that makes the dress seem almost alive.

It’s perfect for Towerfall. Perfect for Lady Ashwood. Perfect to get back into the palace.

“This,” Vic says, turning me to face the mirror and sweeping the gown in front of my body, “will make him drop to his knees and worship the very ground you walk on.”

“‘ Him ’?” I ask Vic’s reflection.

“Girl, there’s always a him .” His brows lift. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I try to laugh, but my thoughts betray me. Kane’s face flashes in my mind—his dark eyes pleading, his shoulders slumped in the dim light of his cell. I left him there, completely alone, and I don’t know how much time has passed between now and then, between this world and his.

Before I can put words to the frost thawing around my heart, Vic leads me to the first workstation. A statuesque woman with bright pink hair and a constellation of drawn-on freckles across her nose and cheeks stands ready with an army of makeup brushes and palettes spread out before her.

I drop into a cushy black chair in front of a mirror with magnification that enhances every pore while Vic pulls a fresh bottle of champagne from an ice-filled bucket. With a deft twist, he uncorks it and fills a clean flute, the bubbles dancing up the sides of the glass.

“Let’s make them bow.”

* * *

My heart beats fast, my skin still humming with the pulse of energy from all the bodies pulling me this way and that, transforming me into the vision staring back at me from the three-way mirror. The gown clings to my slight curves, its train pooling around my feet like liquid rubies. I run my hands along the intricate beadwork. Gold embroidery catches the light, shimmering with every breath I take. It’s like it was made for me—made for the moment that will forever change my life.

Flowing waves so blond, they’re almost white brush against my shoulders. Violet contacts transform my eyes. I look like a fairy-tale princess, a modern-day Sleeping Beauty ready to wake from her long slumber.

In this costume, I can drop into the Kingdom of Pentacles looking like I fit in. It’s a way to protect myself from being called a witch and chased out of town at knifepoint. This time, I know where I’m going, and I won’t leave things to chance.

In my hand, the magickal tarot card brims with energy. The Empress glows softly, her eyes seeming to follow my every move, silently propelling me forward.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

This is it.

My decision sends a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling in my chest. There’s a chance I’ll leave and never come back to this realm. A chance I’ll never see this city, this suite, this world again.

And my mom and my sister…

They may not like it, but I hope they understand my vague email about going on a world-exploring journey of self-discovery. I said they won’t be able to reach me, that I’m giving away all my earthly possessions and ending my cell service, and that they shouldn’t worry about me being dead in a ditch. I told them I would be better than okay and that I’m excited to go and start this new portion of my life.

My heart races when I lift the card. Its surface undulates with a rhythm that matches my heartbeat as its warmth spreads through my hand and up my arm, wrapping around me like an embrace.

I glance back at my reflection, the woman in the mirror exuding confidence and power. This is who I am meant to be. Not the unsure girl tripping through life, but a woman ready to face her destiny. Ready to reclaim her place in Towerfall and fight for the life she wants.

A shiver runs across my shoulders, and I close my eyes. The soft hum of the suite fades, replaced by the silent electric anticipation of the unknown. The magick builds, the card’s energy resonating with my own, growing stronger with each passing second.

I open my eyes and lift the card to my lips, whispering the words that will seal my fate. “Take me to Towerfall.”

The card’s light intensifies, enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and power. The suite around me blurs, the lines between realms dissolving into a shimmering haze.

I’m leaving behind everything I’ve ever known, stepping into a world of uncertainty and magick. But for the first time in my life, I feel truly in control, ready for whatever comes next.

The world spins around me in a whirlwind of color, and I close my eyes and surrender.