“You may go,” I said, wadding the dress into a lumpy mess for Cebrinne. She unraveled it, straightening the whale-bone corset. We watched them swish their way out, our tickets to Cressi tucked into the skirts of two pleasure servants. A stitch tightened into my belly, nerves whispering the ballad of danger.
Cebrinne lowered the dress enough to step inside, shimmying it up her hips. The garment was perhaps a touch tighter on her than it had been onthe other woman. Cebrinne’s curves dipped and flared as smoothly as a figure blown from glass.
Straps hung from her shoulders, two ribbons meant to be tied together. I fixed my leather belt then stepped in close, fastening them for her. “When you get there,” I said softly. “Let yourself be picky. Don’t just settle for the first pair of island eyes you see.”
Cebrinne offered a small snort.
“In fact, I forbid you from it,” I continued, moving to tie her other shoulder. “Put a bit of effort into choosing, Ceba. You’re allowed to choose love for yourself. So, choose it. Don’t hurry up to get it over with. Don’t just appoint yourself a husband to fill a slot. Choose love.” Her mouth twitched with the shadow of a placating smile, but she gave me a slow nod. I held out a pinky. “Promise?”
She took it in hers.
I quickly blinked mist from my eyes. “But don’t take forever deciding, either. Don’t drag your feet. You only have three years.” Cebrinne disappeared as I thrust the shirt over my head, popping out the other side. “Don’t be afraid to be a floozy if you have to. You’ll never—”
She pulled me in. Wrapped her arms around me and sank her forehead into my neck. Then breathed deep, as though burning the scent of me into her memory like a brand. I swallowed hard, nestling my head into the crook of her shoulder. “It’s only twenty-five years,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if the words were more for her benefit or mine. “It will go by in a flash.”
It wouldn’t.
It would drag on, each day longer than the last. I already knew.
Cebrinne pulled away far enough to wipe my cheeks with her thumbs. She sniffed, tucking her hair behind her ear and bending to open the small canvas bag she’d packed. The corner of the book I’d given her appeared as she rummaged to the depths, drawing out a small cylinder wrapped in parchment and handing it to me.
My heart thudded as I unwrapped the candle she’d poured with Aegir’s help. The wick had been lit, a dull patch of red floating under the hardened wax surface. She’d already set things in motion under the autumn blood moon.
It’s the promise of a Triad. It will light itself when the first enters Perpetuum.
My shoulders softened. My throat hardened. Here it was. Not quite a countdown. But not quite anything else. I imagined the little golden-eyed boy leapfrogging with his brother. I imagined Cebrinne’s daughter, a version of herself with dark eyes.
I imagined my sister taking that first step off the edge of the world, the silver dust of Death walking by her side.
“You were never afraid,” I said. “I don’t know how to be brave without you.”
Cebrinne shook her head. She tried to say something, her lips cradling silent words. But no sound drifted from her mouth. She swallowed in frustration then tried again, waiting for me to recognize the movement of her lips. Sometimes I could. But this time, I couldn’t.
We each blinked back stinging disappointment. Thaan had stripped us of our lives one small second at a time. How fitting he’d stripped us of our goodbye as well.
Cebrinne had been abducted from her home. Her mind had been invaded; her body violated. In comparison, the act of being silenced might have seemed minimal. But I think that’s what cut the deepest. Out of everything that happened to us, that’s what haunted her most.
Because a man can cage you. Command you. Send you to his enemies as bait. Keep you in his rooms so you can’t escape. Decide what you’ll wear, what you’ll eat, where you’ll sleep.
But the worst thing a man can do is steal your voice.
For a moment, Cebrinne had that look in her eyes. I’d seen it rarely, watching prisoners climb the steps to the gallows, their backs straight andproud as their executioner fit their noose around their neck. A determination calm and sure, an unwavering resolve I’ll spend my life chasing for just a taste of.
But as quickly as it came, it was gone.
I twisted my hair over the crown of my head. Cebrinne fit my hat into place. We each smiled, though the smiles shaped our mouths strangely. Lumpy and awkward. I swallowed again. "You were right, by the way."
My sister raised a brow.
"A boor and a boar are separate things. I looked it up, but I didn't want to tell you."
She rolled her eyes, mouth pursed as though pinning down a smile. The bells in the market chimed. We counted them silently.One, two, three…
“Your ship is boarding,” I said, my voice wobblier than I would have liked.
Cebrinne held out her pinky.
I took it in mine.
