She purses her lips, but doesn’t argue. Her eyes narrow, as if studying me, before she turns to stub her clove cigarette in the ashtray beside the bench.
“You love her,” she states. It’s not a question.
I drag my hand over my face as I look up at the night sky, then back down at Mercy. “Love is so banal,” I tease, echoing her earlier statement.
“Then what?” she responds, her expression impassive.
I smile ruefully, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Veil and I, we are fate’s favorite ballad.”
Mercy shakes her head softly, a hint of a smile lifting her upper lip. “Careful — you’re starting to sound as vain as Wolfgang.”
I laugh playfully. “Maybe your husband is onto something.”
She smiles wistfully, crossing her arms against the night’s chill. “I …” Her smile drops. “I wish I hadn’t been the last to know about this,” she says tentatively. “About Veil.”
I’m surprised to find so much vulnerability in her voice. “As a friend?” I ask. “Or as the ruler of our dear city?”
She avoids my questioning gaze when she answers, her voice close to a whisper, “As a friend.”
I have the urge to laugh, to dissipate the rising tension between us. Instead, I slide closer to her on the bench and press a kiss on the top of her hand.
“You were too busy falling in love,” I say.
She lets out an offended tsk and rips her hand out of my grasp. I chuckle but quickly grab her arm before she moves to stand up, most likely to storm off in a huff.
“Would a secret appease you?” I ask conspiratorially.
She regards me with suspicion, her arm still in my grip, and I can tell she’s debating saying no just to spite me. But I know Mercy, and there’s nothing she loves more than a secret.
“Yes.” She elongates the word for extra emphasis.
I grin and release her. Pinning her with my stare, I tongue my cheek before speaking, just to make her squirm. “I had Belladonna lift the fertility barrier. Soon, Veil will be carrying my heir.”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise, but her eyes immediately narrow, as if she’s trying to decipher what part exactly is the secret. “Veil doesn’t know,” she finally says.
I push out a pleased chuckle and nod.
But Mercy doesn’t smile back.
“Silly boy,” she says, and her reprimanding tone startles me. “Veil is not just another one of your paramours. She is a servant, just like you, remember?”
“And?” I say petulantly.
She stands up, smoothing out her dress before answering. Her dark green eyes are steadfast. “She will make you pay for this, Gemini.”
My smile is arrogant. “I’m planning on it.”
39
VEIL
I’m giddy from the three glasses of champagne I’ve had as I follow Gemini outside. The night air cools my heated cheeks, the earthy smell tickling my nose. Gemini is just as inhibited as me, his eyes twinkling with mirth whenever he finds my gaze to share a laugh.
My merriment ends when I realize he’s leading us to the maze. My laughter disappears like smoke into the night. I balk, my feet cementing themselves to the ground, even when Gemini tries to tug me forward by the arm. Turning to face me, he furrows his brow, his hand still circling my wrist, but his grin turns wicked.
“Come now, doll. Don’t you trust me?”
My rational mind knows this is not like before. I’m safe. This is just a maze, and so much has changed since that fateful night over two months ago.
