“Business?” he responds, taken by surprise. “We have no business there. I’ve never even been to Kellington, much less across the border.”
“He knows who I am,” I say.
Frederick looks stumped. “You mean he discovered you’re Fae? We already knew that.”
“No,” I say, trying not to be sharp with him. “He knows who I am. He recognized me.”
Alex turns to Frederick and demands. “Did you tell him?”
Irritation crosses Frederick’s face. “I already told you I didn’t.”
“Is there a problem?” Dennis asks warily as he turns the corner and finds us huddled together. “It’s an hour to the show, and the house doors are about to open.”
Alex looks at me, pressing his lips together.
“Go.” I rub my finger over the ring. “You have people to greet, and I need to take my place backstage.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Frederick says quietly, though he looks hesitant. “Who would he tell?”
I nod, looking down. The ring taunts me, making me feel vulnerable.
“Should I stay with you?” Alex asks.
“Of course not.” I meet his eyes. “You have people to greet, and I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
“I’ll check on you at intermission,” he promises.
But instead of leaving, Alex stares at me for a moment longer, looking conflicted. I’m about to reassure him I’m fine, but I feel the lie. Even though my magic is bound, I don’t dare utter the words, not after what happened last time when I tried to cover for Brahm and Alice.
Alex finally pulls his eyes away and follows Dennis toward the foyer doors at the end of the hall.
“I’m sorry my father made you uncomfortable,” Frederick says once we’re alone. “I hope it wasn’t his intention.”
The way he phrases it catches my attention. “You hope it wasn’t? Don’t you mean to say you’re sure it wasn’t?”
“Sometimes it’s hard to know.” With a sigh, he takes my hand, offering comfort. “Good luck tonight.”
I’m unused to people touching me, but these humans do it constantly. And oddly, I don’t seem to mind. The warmth is welcome.
But I’m afraid I’ll forget who I am if I stay here much longer. I already feel my walls crumbling—my security.
Perhaps without my magic, I’m too weak to hold them up. I’m helpless now, no different than Frederick, Alex, or any human. I have no choice but to rely on others and allow these connections and bonds to form.
But friendships are dangerous when you’re the queen-to-be. Every person who comes into my heart leaves an unprotected entry that others can exploit.
I pull my hand away from Frederick, glancing at the long scar on my palm.
“I’ll walk you backstage,” he says.
Nodding, I follow him.
* * *
I stand just offstagein my long-sleeved ebony gown, hidden behind a wing curtain. Though I can see Candace, I’m concealed from the audience. She mouths the words I sing, our partnership perfected after a month of grueling practice. I’ve become her voice—a ghost, a singing apparition with no body.
It’s a humbling situation, but when the final song comes to an end, and the audience bursts into riotous applause, I close my eyes and soak it in. I let it balm my heart for a few seconds before I hurry out of the way, making room for the cast as they rush onto the stage for the curtain call.
I watch them as they beam at the audience, each making their way to the front in small groups, until Candace and her male counterpart make their grandiose bows. Finally, the curtains swing shut, and the cast passes me without realizing I’m still here.