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Juniper & Thorn(4)

Author:Ava Reid

For my sisters, it was revelry, or even just the petulant thrill of knowing they had disregarded our father’s orders. For me, it was fear. I did not want to be left behind, not after that one awful night.

So I let Rose and Undine drag me through the crowd, chest heaving beneath my corset. The scents of strangers, sweat and violet perfume, soaked my skin like rainwater. Words poured into my ears.

“。 . . found his heart torn out, like someone had plunged a fist into his chest . . .”

“。 . . liver gone, too, just empty . . .”

Stomach tensing, I leaned toward Rose again. “What are they talking about?”

“Some nonsense from the penny presses, I’m sure,” she said, eyes trained forward. “The Grand Inspector found two men dead at the boardwalk, and someone started the tale that they’d been killed by a monster. More likely they beat each other down in a drunken brawl, or just drank themselves to death, which would explain the comments about the liver. But that doesn’t make as lurid of a story, and it doesn’t sell very many papers.”

I nodded, my belly uncurling just a little bit. Rose seemed to be able to understand things about the world that I could not, even though we were all trapped in the same house, under the same aegis.

She also must have done a good enough job wrangling my hair, because I did not receive any lingering stares. Women’s eyes passed over me and angled toward my sisters with suspicious jealousy. Men’s stares swept past me as well, landing on the cleft of Undine’s breasts or Rose’s bare shoulders. I could see the hunger, but also the guilt running under their gazes, the quiet fettering of desire. They knew anyone who desired a Vashchenko girl was doomed.

More voices swam toward me.

“。 . . paid double the price to see him, but I don’t regret it . . .”

“。 . . said it was the best show she’d ever seen—brought tears to her eyes . . .”

This time, I did not have to ask Rose what they meant. We were here for the same reason as the rest of them. As Undine maneuvered us toward the ticket booth, I drew in a steeling breath. My corset felt strangling-tight. She produced our three tickets and then smiled at the attendant, batting her lashes. I did not know how much they were worth—I hardly knew how many kopeks made a ruble—but judging by the size and eagerness of the crowd, I suspected it was quite a lot. Perhaps this particular client was even more in love with my sister than most.

Two attendants in black velvet bowed to us and pushed open the oaken double doors. Undine and Rose let go of my arms, knowing I had no choice but to follow. I trailed after them, gaze on the ground, my brow shining with sweat, and the ballet theater snatched us up and shut its jaws behind us. Another thread of fear loosed in me. When I raised my head at last, I was dizzy with the lurid brightness.

Volutes of gold clambered up to the domed ceiling like vines wreathing the trunk of a tree. Between each gilded column were a dozen seats, upholstered in crimson velvet. The chandelier whirled gently with candlelight, each flame glinting like a knifepoint. The ceiling was one sprawling fresco, painted the pale blue of the sky in earliest spring. Satyrs—which remarkably resembled Indrik—chased bare-chested nymphs across it, and burly men lounged on riverbanks, wearing nothing but laurel crowns. A flush prickled my face.

In the time I’d spent staring at the ceiling, I’d nearly lost Rose and Undine. I followed the bright pearl of Undine’s blond head and caught up with them as they were sliding into their seats. My throat was dry with anxious embarrassment.

“I think they recognized you,” I told Undine in a whisper. “The ticket attendant, the men in line—”

“Well, of course they would recognize me,” Undine said briskly. “But they won’t tell Papa. They know they’d never get to see me again if they did.”

On my other side, Rose let out a low, laughing breath. She was my ally in exasperation at Undine’s vanity, and she showed her chagrin more openly than I ever dared. Luckily, Undine was usually too preoccupied with herself to notice.

More whispers started. The voice of a silver-haired woman in the row behind lisped past my ear.

“They say his rib cage was crumpled like a sunken roof. They say his eyes had been plucked out and replaced with plum stones.”

I whipped my head around, and immediately Undine slapped my arm. The effect was so instant that I thought my body had punished itself; who else but me could be so in tune with my own aberrations? Undine’s blue eyes were thin.

“Don’t,” she snarled. “It’s rude to eavesdrop, especially here. You really don’t know anything about the world, do you, Marlinchen?”

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