But that required Tyler missing first. And even at thirty-two paces, Juliette wasn’t sure if it was possible. She could only hope that they wouldn’t advance to the barrier. That they would both stay far, far from each other, and both would miss, and this duel would end with honor restored and without death, with Alisa returned to the White Flowers and Tyler mollified.
An utter joke, Juliette thought. Her heart was thudding a storm in her chest. Never could that happen. So how was this going to end?
“Hey,” Juliette said, stepping closer to Alisa. “You need anything? Thirsty?”
Alisa shook her head. She tried to tug her arm out of her captors’ hold, but it was a weak effort; she had long given up trying to escape.
“I just want to go home,” she said frostily.
Juliette swallowed hard. “You will.” She placed the copy of Tyler’s novel at Alisa’s feet. “Look after this for me, would you?”
Tyler had promised to give Alisa back at the duel’s end, regardless of the result. So far, he certainly seemed to have kept his word. Alisa was unharmed—at most, she only looked annoyed to be here.
Perhaps, it occurred to Juliette suddenly, Alisa didn’t even know that her brother was being summoned for a duel.
Footsteps sounded from the road outside the alleyway. Juliette inhaled sharply and straightened, her fists clenching hard. If Alisa didn’t know why she was here, she would soon.
Roma and Benedikt appeared. They were visibly tense, coats pulled up to their necks to brace against the cold. For a moment, Juliette wondered if Roma might be wearing something protective underneath, but then he unbuttoned his coat, showing merely a pristine white shirt. There would be no tricks here. Tyler would see through any attempt.
“Tyler,” Juliette snapped. Her voice drew Roma’s attention, summoning his eyes to the back, where Alisa was being held. He lurched forward, but Benedikt grabbed his arm, warning him against any sudden movements. Another cold gale blew into the alley. The Montagovs were twin reflections of the same picture—one ablaze as a study of contrasts and shadows, the other a faded, blond replicant.
“No need to chide me,” Tyler replied, striding toward her. “I’m getting into position.”
Just as he started to walk, there was a loud bang! from nearby, and everybody in the alley flinched. No matter how blasé Tyler acted, he was just as tense as Juliette was. Where Juliette stood taut in fear, he stood white-knuckled to prepare for blood.
“Only a rickshaw runner, I’m sure,” Juliette said. She offered Alisa another glance, trying to communicate with her eyes that everything would be all right, before walking to meet Benedikt in the middle of the alley. As seconds, this was supposed to be their last chance to communicate on behalf of the duelers, to resolve the matter and walk away.
“Any success?” Benedikt murmured.
Juliette shook her head. “No luck. What about with Roma?”
“He won’t back down.”
Knowing that they were speaking about him, Roma kept his gaze trained on Juliette. His expression was blank, revealing nothing.
“Roma,” Juliette whispered. She knew that he could hear her. Even if she mouthed every word, Roma could probably read it. “Don’t do it.”
“I must,” he said. There was no other argument. It was as simple as that. The blood feud was fated to run deep. Even Roma, who had hated the idea of it, couldn’t resist its draw. It would pull him in, force him to kill.
Remember what you used to say, Juliette wanted to scream. Astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
She remained still, her breath caught in her throat. Her heart was pounding, so loud that it had to be audible, so loud that it was all she could hear. But Roma—Roma only idly turned and took his position at the end of the alley, sparing no second glance at Juliette or Benedikt.
The moment Juliette turned on her heel and started to walk, Benedikt snapped to attention too. He hurried to Roma and grabbed him by the elbow, hissing something that Juliette could no longer catch. With every three steps, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to make sense of what was happening, but each time, Roma did not look responsive. He only shook his head and brushed his cousin off.
“Tyler,” Juliette called.
“Step behind me,” Tyler replied. He did not look in Juliette’s direction. “Unless you want to be within firing range?”
One breath in. One breath out.
“Tyler—”
This time Tyler did give her his attention, his pistol dangling at his side. “Yes?”