Finale (Caraval, 3)

Sweat beaded between Scarlett’s toes as a servant led her down a hall covered in detailed wainscoting and thick crown molding.

There might have been some cracks in the molding, which gave her a hint of pause. Nicolas had never said it, but at one point, she’d imagined that he’d only wanted to marry her because of her father’s wealth. But she wasn’t connected to her father anymore. If Nicolas ever chose to propose, it would be because of her.

Now the palms of her hands were sweating even more than her toes. She wanted to wipe the damp on her gown, but it would be worse to have obvious streaks marring the deep pink fabric.

Scarlett took several shallow breaths, trying to calm herself as the servant opened the door to a sprawling garden covered in glass. “His Lordship will meet you in here.”

Sprightly hummingbirds zipped from plant to plant, mirroring the state of Scarlett’s chaotic stomach as she stepped through the doorway. Everything smelled of pollen and flowers and budding romance.

Nicolas had recently drawn her a bouquet of hybrid flowers and told her that he enjoyed experimenting in the garden. She’d thought he’d written it to sound impressive, but clearly someone played with the plants in here. There were clusters of white Valendan faisies with velvet-blue vines, silver spider lilies that shined under the light, and yellow stems of sunflowers with jade-green petals.

Not too far from the door rested a copper table set with a bouquet of bright pink peonies, a pitcher of minted lemonade, sandwiches of seeded bread, and tiny tarts covered in white plums. Enough to be thoughtful without going over the top.

Julian eyed the little feast suspiciously, as if the lemonade was poisonous and the sandwiches hid razor blades. “It’s not too late to leave.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be.” Scarlett perched on the edge of a large copper chair. “But you’re free to go whenever you wish.”

“Don’t tell me you really like it here.” Julian’s eyes lifted toward a slice of the glass ceiling covered in ladybugs. “There’s something off. Even the insects want to escape.”

“Ahem.” Someone cleared his throat. “His Lordship, Count Nicolas d’Arcy.”

Scarlett’s breath caught.

Clipped boot steps, heavier than she would have expected, followed the servant’s voice.

She thought she’d imagined her former fiancé as every possible sort of man. She’d pictured him short, tall, slender, wide, old, young, bald, hairy, handsome, plain, pale, dark, brooding, cheerful. She’d pictured him dressed in frilly frockcoats and dour suits as she tried to imagine the first thing he’d say upon meeting her.

She’d imagined what she’d say to him as well. But her words tangled together as he stepped forward and took her hand in his.

Nicolas was a mountain. The large hand holding Scarlett’s could have just as easily crushed it as cradled it. He was almost a full foot taller than her—all muscled legs, burly arms, and brown hair so thick that even though it appeared he’d tried to tame it, a wide lock fell over his forehead, giving him a boyish appearance, which was added to by his slightly crooked spectacles.

He looked the way she would have imagined a vigilante who had a secret identity as a gentleman botanist.

Beside him trailed a great black dog the size of a small pony. Timber. Scarlett had heard a lot about him in Nicolas’s letters. His tail wagged and his ears went back at the sight of Scarlett, obviously excited. But the dog didn’t leave his master’s side; he sat obediently as Nicolas brought her hand to his full mouth.

Her dress clearly liked him. Her low neckline was now rimmed with roughly cut gems that sent sparks of light all over the glassed-in garden.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Scarlett managed.

He smiled, wide and sincere. “I’m tempted to say you’re even prettier than I imagined, but I would hate you to think me unoriginal.”

“Too late,” Julian coughed.

A wrinkle formed between Nicolas’s thick brows as he noticed Scarlett’s companion. “And you are?”

“Julian.” He offered his hand.

But Nicolas refused to let go of Scarlett’s. “I wasn’t aware Scarlett had a brother.”

“I’m not her brother.” Julian kept his tone friendly, but Scarlett felt a surge of bruising purple panic as devilry sparked in Julian’s eyes. “I’m not related to her at all. I’m an actor she played with during Caraval.”

He emphasized the words played with, and Scarlett could have choked him. Julian would choose now to finally be honest.

Not that Nicolas appeared disturbed. The young count’s broad smile remained even as he pet Timber with his free hand.

But Julian wasn’t finished.

“I’m not surprised she’s never mentioned me. At the start of Caraval I don’t think she liked me much. But then we were given the same bedroom—”

“Julian, enough,” Scarlett cut in.

Nicolas’s smile finally fell. He released her fingers, as if taking them had been a mistake.

“It’s not the way it sounds. Julian and I are only friends,” she said, deciding not to even touch the word bedroom. “He met my father during Caraval and he was nervous you might be like him. He wanted to come today because he’s protective of me. But allowing that was evidently a mistake.” She shot a narrow look in Julian’s direction.

He appeared unapologetic, shrugging as he sank his hands into his pockets.

“Nicolas, please—”

“It’s all right, Scarlett.” The count’s voice rumbled deeper than before, but the angry lines around his mouth were gone. “I won’t say I’m pleased about this. But after learning the truth about your father and hearing about the fiancé you met during Caraval, I can understand.”

Nicolas turned back to Julian, and Scarlett stared as the young men finally shook hands. “Thank you for watching out for her during the game.”

“I’ll always watch out for her,” Julian said.

“What about when you’re not needed?” Nicolas asked.

Julian threw his shoulders back and stood taller. “I’ll let Scarlett make that choice.”

“Julian, stop,” Scarlett said.

“It’s all right.” Nicolas scratched his dog behind the ears. “I don’t mind a bit of competition. In fact, I’d prefer to know who else is trying to win your hand.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Julian said. “Winning implies this is a game.”

“It’s a figure of speech,” said Nicolas.

“I know.” Julian smirked. “Games are what I do. But I don’t think you were using it figuratively. You want to win her by proving you’re the best.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Nicolas asked. And Scarlett would have sworn he puffed his chest.

They were like battling peacocks. Scarlett pictured their emotions swirling in proud shades of teal and cobalt blue. Or maybe she was actually seeing their feelings?

Scarlett always saw her own emotions in colors, but she’d only seen the feelings of someone else once. It had happened during Caraval, after she’d shared blood with Julian. It was the most intimate thing she’d ever done, and afterward, she’d been able to glimpse Julian’s feelings. But it hadn’t lasted long, and neither did this glimpse of pride, making her wonder if it was only in her mind, since she hadn’t drunk anyone’s blood.

Julian and Nicolas were still staring each other down. This was not the scene Scarlett had imagined. She was supposed to be the one Nicolas was staring at. He was supposed to flatter and woo her, not argue with Julian.

“I don’t need to prove anything,” said Julian. “I’m not trying to win her hand. I’m offering her mine, and everything that comes with it, hoping she’ll take it and decide she wants to keep it.”

It was one of the sweeter things Julian had said, and maybe Scarlett would have accepted his hand if he actually had spared her a look during his pretty speech. But the boys were so caught up in their sparring, it seemed they’d forgotten she was there.

“I’m glad this isn’t just a game to you, Julian, but maybe it should be. Perhaps we should turn this into a courtship competition,” Scarlett said. The words immediately tasted like a mistake. But the bemused glances of her gentlemen felt like a victory. Instead of speaking as if Scarlett wasn’t there, Julian and Nicolas were now looking at her as if she were the only one present.

“They did this in the early days of the Meridian Empire,” she went on. “Young ladies from wealthy or noble families would arrange a series of tasks, so that their gentleman suitors could show off their skills. Whoever completed them first or best would then marry the young lady.”

Nicolas ran a hand over his mouth, as if trying to hide his expression, but she could tell he was intrigued.

“This shouldn’t be a game,” Julian said.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” Nicolas definitely puffed his chest this time.

Julian muttered something under his breath. His posture was tense and his jaw was clenched, making the scar that ran from his jaw to his eye turn into an aggravated white line. “Crimson, don’t make this a game.”

If he hadn’t said that, Scarlett might have changed her mind. She’d made the challenge mostly to shock them and to stop their ridiculous fighting. But if she backed out now, it would look as if she were doing it for Julian and not for herself.

And she always felt as if she were caving in for Julian.

Julian was the sun in the middle of the wettest part of the Cold Season, gloriously warm and wonderful when he was there, but completely unreliable. For five weeks he’d vanished. Now, though he’d only been back in her life just a few hours, he’d turned it into chaos.

Sometimes, admittedly, she liked the wildness he brought into her world. But she didn’t like that this time it was more about him getting his way than it was about her. He’d said in the carriage he was here because he didn’t trust the count. But Nicolas was a botanist, with a dog—one look at him and it was clear he didn’t have any nefarious plans for Scarlett. Julian just didn’t want anyone else to have plans for Scarlett at all.

“If you don’t want to play, you don’t have to,” Scarlett said. “But I think it will be fun. My mind is made up.”

“Since when do you make up your mind so fast?” argued Julian.

“Since five weeks ago.” Her smile was an exclamation point.

Julian looked as if he wanted to keep arguing. He probably would have if Nicolas wasn’t there. Instead, he just swatted at an unfortunate ladybug with more force than necessary.

Nicolas’s grin expanded as if he was already winning.

It made Scarlett a little nervous. But after what she’d just said to Julian she couldn’t back out now, and though it might have been a little terrifying, it was also exhilarating to take control in a way she never had before. “I’ll start with a simple challenge and each challenge will grow progressively harder until one of you backs out, or one of you fails to complete a task.”

“What’s the first challenge?” Nicolas asked.

Scarlett tried to remember what she’d read in the history books. But this was her game; she could do it however she wanted. “Each of you must bring me a gift within the next three days, but it must be something you’ve never given to anyone else.”

“Will we get a prize if we bring the best gift?” Julian asked.

“Yes,” Scarlett said. “I’ll give a kiss to the winner of each individual challenge, and at the end of the game, I’ll marry whoever wins.”

It was the sort of thing Tella would have said. It was bold, and it made Scarlett feel bold as well.

But feelings never lasted, and the results of this game would.