The comma between Marisol’s brows turned into something like a question mark. Now she was the one experiencing doubts. The look didn’t last long, but it was enough to remind Evangeline that she was concealing more than just her reasons for entering this room. Unlike her stepsister, Evangeline did have secrets to hide. And if Marisol ever found out what they were, they’d hurt her far more than any of Evangeline’s fleeting doubts—and they would absolutely ruin Evangeline.
18
Last night, when Evangeline had exited her coach, there’d only been clouds of fog and the arch. But now, as she and Marisol arrived at the first night of Nocte Neverending, Evangeline barely saw tonight’s new arch in between all the brawny ax jugglers and the acrobats doing flips on the backs of armored horses.
Music from minstrels in puffed sleeves floated around white-haired men dressed as sorcerers with long silver robes and large cauldrons full of everything from sparkling cranberry cider to foaming luck punch. Although more people appeared to be drawn to the woman beside them who sold gem-bright bottles of Fortuna’s Fantastically Flavored Water.
Evangeline wasn’t even inside the official ball, and already it felt like the start of a Northern fairytale, when everything was just a little more than it should have been. The happiness felt touchable, the magic in the air was tasteable, and the sky seemed a little closer to earth. If Evangeline had a dagger, she imagined she could have sliced into that night as if it were a cake and stolen a piece of it to take a bite of all the wondrous dark.
Despite some flinching at a few of the slightly magical things, Marisol appeared to be enjoying herself as well. All the earlier awkwardness and doubt was gone, and Evangeline hoped that nothing would happen tonight that might bring any of it back.
Evangeline cast a quick look about for Jacks, relieved that he wasn’t in the throng of people waiting to enter tonight’s arch. Not that she could picture the Fate lining up for anything. If Jacks was there, he was probably already inside the actual ball, leaning indolently against a tree and dropping apple cores on the dance floor.
The dormant butterflies inside Evangeline began to stir. She really hoped to see Apollo tonight before Jacks spotted her.
There were only two more people ahead of her and Marisol now. Both were girls, dressed in gowns with bodices formed of leather book spines and skirts made of love story pages.
Evangeline heard the first bookish girl giggle as she approached the entry. It was a different arch from last night. The words May You Find Your Ever After were boldly emblazoned across the top, and instead of a variety of symbols, there were two figures carved on either side—a groom and a bride. The groom’s strong face was that of Prince Apollo, but the bride carving shifted so that she looked like whichever girl was about to step through next.
Evangeline could see pure delight on the faces of the girls who entered just ahead. Hope spilled through them, clear as light filtering through glass, as they no doubt imagined that Prince Apollo might choose one of them.
Perhaps that was the true magic of Nocte Neverending—not the minstrels or magicians, but the incredible hope that everyone found. There was something fantastically bewitching about the idea that a person’s destiny could change in one single, wondrous night. And Evangeline felt that power as she stepped underneath the arch.
Warm, curling wind brushed her skin, and she heard a rasping whisper: We’ve been waiting for you …
Another step and the air turned spicy with the scent of mulled cider and possibilities. Evangeline tensed as she caught a whiff of apples. But the remaining two scars on her wrist weren’t burning, and she didn’t see any painfully handsome young men with waves of dark blue hair.
This evening, she was in the ballroom of an aged stone castle, and Evangeline had never seen so much wonder on so many faces. Most of the ladies—and several of the gentlemen—appeared to be looking upward toward the tapestries and decorative balconies in search of Crown Prince Apollo, but just as many seemed to be losing themselves in the party, literally.
All around the great room were tall doors with words like chance, mystery, or adventure burned into the center of them. Evangeline watched as a pair of young men holding hands slid through the door labeled love. Just beyond them, a girl with straw-gold hair topped off with a paper crown took a shuddering breath as she stepped onto an enormous black-and-white checkered board. There were other players on the board as well, all either wearing bishops’ cloaks over their colorful doublets, gloves of pawns, or other identifying markers as they played a type of chess where the human pieces kissed one another instead of kicking each other from the board.