let go. But no matter when she let go of this hug, it would be too soon.
Tella held on tighter. She wanted to keep arguing. If she kept fighting, if she told Scarlett how terrified she was, if she went into details about Nicolas’s gruesome death and reminded her of the way the Fallen Star had killed their mother, Tella knew she could convince her to stay. Tella wanted to do that so much. But she’d just vowed to do whatever it took to defeat the Fallen Star, and she meant it. She just hadn’t thought it would take her sister.
She sagged against Scarlett as the sky finished darkening into a rippling black night. “Are you sure you don’t want to be selfish right now and just think about saving yourself?”
“Of course I want to do that. But I need to do this—for me, for you, for Julian, and for all the servants we just helped, who don’t have a chance at doing what I can. I can’t do nothing when I have the ability to do something. And I have the Reverie Key; if it gets too dangerous, I’ll escape.”
“Keys can be stolen,” Tella murmured.
“I’ll be cautious.” Scarlett hugged her sister tighter, until Tella finally pulled away. She hadn’t wanted to. But if Scarlett was going to go back to the Fallen Star she needed to do it soon, before anyone noticed her absence. Scarlett probably wanted a proper good-bye with Julian as well.
And by proper, Tella imagined it would be the sort of good-bye that the prying eyes of a sister weren’t meant to witness.
31
Scarlett
As Tella went into the guest quarters and tried to wash off all the dirt and sorrow and lingering traces of guilt from her person, Scarlett stood under a wedge of moonlight, preparing for another good-bye that she didn’t want to have.
Julian appeared to feel the same way. His brow furrowed, his lips were pressed tightly together, and when he wrapped his arms around Scarlett, there was nothing soft or tender in his touch. “I know you said this isn’t my choice, but you can’t tell me that you’ve chosen me and then give me absolutely no say in your life.”
“Is this your way of asking me again not to go?”
“No.” He held her closer, tucking her head to his chest. “In the future—because there will be a future for us—I just hope you can talk to me about things like this rather than telling me you’ve already made up your mind.”
“All right,” Scarlett conceded. “But I hope you do the same?”
“I wouldn’t ask it of you if I wasn’t planning on that.” Julian’s fingers clutched her waist, as if he could still find a way that didn’t involve letting her go.
Scarlett wished he could. She really didn’t want to go back to the Fallen Star. But in that moment, she was more worried about Julian. Like Tella, he was impulsive and ruled by his emotions, which Scarlett could see were gray as storm clouds and full of worry.
“What if I try to slip you letters every few days? I don’t think it will be safe to visit again.” And she didn’t think it would be safe to send him messages either, but she worried that if she couldn’t find a way to assure him she was all right, he would come after her eventually and put himself in danger. “I can open a door with the Reverie Key to send you notes to let you know I’m all right.”
“I still don’t like it,” Julian said.
“If you did, my feelings would probably be injured.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and for a moment his lips stayed there. “Be careful, Crimson.”
“I’m always careful.”
“I don’t know…” He pulled away just enough for her to see his mouth twitch at the corner. “A careful girl wouldn’t say she loved me.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t think my heart could be safer than in your hands.” But even as she said it, her heart felt heavy.
Julian’s mouth was still forming half a smile, but his eyes were expressing something else. Scarlett always loved his eyes—they were brown and warm and full of all the emotion that drove him. Julian wasn’t always honest, but his eyes were, and right then he was looking at her as if he was afraid the next time he saw her she wouldn’t be the same.
“I’m going to come back to you,” she promised.
“That’s not the only thing I’m worried about.” His voice was hoarse.