10. Scarlett

CHAPTER 10

SCARLETT

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dreary darkness of my mother's room.

My nose wrinkles as a musty, foul air assaults my senses. I fumble with my dress and pluck out a sheer handkerchief, pressing it to my face in an attempt to stem the stench.

As I pass by the magicked lights, they flicker on, having been spelled to activate when they sense movement.

I spot the culprit of the horrid smell sitting on my mother's nightstand. A rotten peach festers, and flies buzz around it.

My mother doesn't look much better than the peach, but she's alive. I watch her for a moment, confirming the slow rise and fall of her chest before I move farther into the room.

I consider the silver bell next to her bed that will call the staff, but a sense of wrongness about the whole situation makes me feel like I need to take care of this myself.

Taking the vial, I pull out the dropper and squeeze the end to suck up the contents.

Will two drops be enough for this?

She's not just in a coma. She's been neglected.

My mother's lips are dry, and her hair is stuck to her face. Anger builds inside my chest, beating against my rib cage with no outlet, for this level of neglect.

Has no one tended to her since I last saw her four days ago?

She's alive, but her lips are cracked and her face is deathly pale. The shadows under her eyes and cast over her sunken cheeks are new. Based on her shallow breathing, I fear how much time she really has left.

How dare Father leave her in here, alone, to die of neglect next to a rotten peach.

But something rubs me wrong about the whole thing. My father loves my mother more than anything else in this world. He'd never allow her to be left alone, uncared for, and suffering.

With that reassurance, I decide to summon him when I'm done here. He couldn't have known about this, and his anger will be far more respected and feared than mine.

I let two drops of the elixir fall onto my mother's lips. Her skin greedily swallows up the silver contents.

But she doesn't move. She doesn't lick up the moisture. Her body merely drinks it up.

The skin on her lips smooths out and a kiss of red returns, but everything else stays the same.

Indecision makes my hands tremble. Caution tells me not to do what instinct says is necessary.

She needs more than two drops.

Which means she could potentially become addicted, and then what? My family can't possibly afford anti-aging elixirs.

But Edward can.

I inwardly roll my eyes at myself. I'm already on a first-name basis with a man I hardly know?

My betrothed.

My future husband, with whom I am bound to spend the next thirty days in a romantic courtship that will end in marriage.

Earl Rinhold has made his intentions clear. He wants me.

He wants my children.

He wants a marriage, and in effect, that gives me certain assurances that should I need more of the elixir, I can get it.

Maybe that's exactly what a man like Earl Rinhold wants, I think as I bite my lip.

I'm giving him a means to control me. That's dangerous.

But I find my fingers overriding all the what-ifs and obeying instinct.

The reality is that if I don't do anything, my mother will die.

I wind up praying for the second time in my life after I have added two more drops to my mother's lips.

"Please, Cain. Let my mother live, and protect me against the Elite games I must play."

The room seems to tremble as I say the words, and shadows unfurl over every reflective surface.

The rotten peach on the nightstand vanishes.

I blink a few times, then drop the handkerchief I had been holding. It falls to the bed, and my mother's fingers twitch and pick it up.

"Scarlett?" she asks as her long eyelashes flutter, then her eyes open.

I resist the urge to throw myself at my mother and completely fall apart. I'm clearly suffering hallucinations from hunger and also dealing with sleep-deprivation effects.

The stench in the room had been my own manufacturing. So had the rotten peach.

It's just a reflection of my worst fears, that my mother was withering away like a rotten piece of fruit.

It was almost as if my nightmares were merging with my waking hours, giving me day terrors.

Just what I need.

"Mother. How are you feeling?" I ask, even if that's a stupid question.

She had just been at death's door. Although, I now see a glass of water by her bed and a clean basin with a damp towel. She had been recently tended to, not neglected. My nightmares had shown me what I was most afraid of seeing.

It was a good thing I hadn't summoned my father, or else he'd lock me away until I left for the Rinhold estate.

A smile lifts my mother's lips, and a silver glow seems to flash in her hazel eyes. Mine are silver or gray, depending on the light—or even my mood—but I've always been jealous of my mother's eyes. There are flecks of bronze throughout the exterior green on the bands, and she looks more like her stunning self as she glances up at me.

Even her hair seems to perk up as the sickly sheen fades from her face. "I'm… better. Why am I better?"

Wincing, I hold up the vial. "I'm afraid I cheated."

It's dangerous to cheat in our world.

But sometimes it's necessary.

Her features soften as she pats my hand. "Did you steal it?" she asks.

"No," I answer quietly. "It was a gift."

Her gaze rakes over me, taking in my appearance and the obvious three slashes up my arm.

She doesn't ask me who it is I've entered into a courtship with. I think she knows. There is only one family in the Magic Sector wealthy enough to have freely given me an anti-aging elixir.

"Thank you, Scarlett. You're so brave. I'm proud of you, you know that?"

I can't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. Swatting them away, I take her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes mine back with more strength than she's demonstrated in months.

Gratitude for Earl Rinhold dares to flutter in my stomach, replacing some of the anger that had been there, though I can't help but feel the reality of my situation.

I'm going to have to go through with the courtship now. Not that I wasn't going to, but I've taken away any remaining choice I might have had.

"You need at least two drops every day," I tell her, shoving the vial into her hand.

She parts her lips as if to protest, but I continue.

"Two drops, okay? And you send word when you're running low. If you need more, then take more. I will get another vial."

I have to.

She gives me an empathetic smile. "Don't worry about me, Scarlett. You're all the matters. I know this illness frightens you. It frightens me, too. But death comes for all of us in the end. We are not cut out for the Immortality Sector."

My mother is about to go on with her typical argument that death is normal. Immortality is the oddity that was never meant for humans.

I know there's merit to her words. Most families in the Immortality Sector are rumored to be vicious, soulless beings. Immortality has made everything less precious to them, and when nothing is precious, nothing is sacred, either.

Does it really have to be that way?

My usual arguments rest on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them back down and instead let her talk.

Because it feels so good to hear my mother talk.

When one of her maidservants comes in with soup for lunch, her eyes widen to see my mother awake. "Duchess Nightingale!" she exclaims, then immediately goes into a curtsy. "I'll get something more robust for lunch right away."

My mother keeps her from running off with a wave of her hand. "Wait, Eliza. Please get something for Scarlett, too." She turns to me with a bright smile. "What would you like, dear?"

I laugh and gesture to my corset. "I don't think I can eat with this torture device, Mother. But watching you eat is fulfillment in and of itself."

My mother pinches my cheek. "Nonsense. When was the last time you ate?" She doesn't wait for me to respond, likely because she knows she won't like the answer. "You're too thin, sweetheart. Eliza?"

"Yes, Duchess?" the handmaiden asks, perking up.

"Can you please grab Rosie on your way back and have her bring something suitable for Scarlett to change into?"

"That's really not nec—" I begin, but Eliza is already gone.

When a Duchess makes an order, it is immediately obeyed.

But in my mother's case, it's not necessarily because she's feared.

It's because she's loved.

By the time the handmaiden returns, Rosie is with her. And she's brought a loose-fitting day dress for me to replace the corset. I give my mother a look, and she only smiles in response.

Sometimes the women in this household are insufferably supportive.

While Rosie helps me change behind the privacy screen, Eliza gives my mother a tray for her bed that's laden with a hearty meal and a frosted dessert.

Without saying a word, Rosie and Eliza ferry over a small table and chair for me to dine next to my mother.

Maybe it's becoming a bad habit now, but I find myself praying once more before I delve into the first real meal I've had in days.

"Thank you, Cain."

I look for those shadows that seem to follow prayers, but this time there aren't any.

I can swear I hear a rumble of thunder outside again, though.

My mother brightly smiles. "Since when do you pray to our Lord, Scarlett?" She's a devout believer, and despite her many lectures, I never followed her lead when it came to worship or prayer.

I shrug and stuff a garlic potato wedge into my mouth, moaning at the delicious oily taste. "I'm just trying something new."

She hums in thought before tasting another bite. She seems to be enjoying her food as much as I am, and with a pang of sadness, I realize she probably hasn't eaten in days.

Because she was in a coma.

"Promise me you'll take the drops," I suddenly say.

Rosie and Eliza have left us alone for our meal. Normally, they are included, but I'm not surprised they felt this occasion was a private matter.

"I will," my mother says. "But only if you promise me something, too, dear daughter."

I nod. "What is it?"

"Never regret who you are."

I blink at her a few times. I'm not even sure if I know who I am, other than Lady Scarlett of the Nightingale household.

But I have a feeling she is referencing my true origins. The ones that give me the kind of backbone that can land me in trouble.

Or win me a place as a Lady of the Rinhold family and save my mother's life.

"I will do my best," I tell her. If I don't know exactly who I am, then there's not much to regret. So as far as promises go, I've made worse.

Seeming satisfied, she takes the medicinal box from her nightstand and puts it onto her tray. She opens it, takes out one of the layers, and reveals a secret compartment where she places the anti-aging elixir.

She puts everything away without saying a word.

She knows what I'm willing to give up to keep her alive, but it also has to do with what she just said.

"Don't let the nightmares control you."

My eyes widen.

Does she know about my nightmares?

"What do you mean?"

She blows out a slow breath. "I just mean that everything you've gone through is enough to give anyone powerful nightmares. Don't let them make you doubt who you are."

Who am I? I am the child of a village designed for monsters.

I was always meant to be a sacrifice.

And I don't regret that one bit.

One of the marks on my arm starts to fade, and we both watch it as the visual countdown reminds me that my choice has already been made.

No regrets, Scarlett, I tell myself.

My nose twitches as the sour scent of rotten peaches flickers in my memory. Ignoring it, I begin to stack up my empty plates.

I won't let the nightmares control me… No matter what.