Page 8 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

“That’s the problem. I don’t want to have a hectic, bloody semester. I want everything to go back to normal.”

“And it is normal now. Isn’t it?”

My father doesn’t know what happened with Amelia—well, everyone knows she died, but they don’t know what happened next. He doesn’t know about the static and the words on her monitor. The promise that the killing will continue.

One month. No body. But I’m waiting.

Tobey says we can tell him about what happened, but something stops me every time, and I can’t put my finger onwhat it is. Even now, with him watching me so patiently, I can’t get the words out.

“It is.” I hide my doubt under a dramatic sigh.

He lifts a pocket watch. It should be an ordinary action. He’s more punctual than I am, and he has places to be.

I’ve seen his watch so many times, but it does something funny this time.

It reminds me of Caldwell’s. The one we found near the body. The one Caldwell claims belonged to his mother.

It’s the same metal. The initials engraved on the back are the same looping cursive.

“What is that?” I ask, gripping the ledge of his dark wooden desk.

He turns to me with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“The watch. What is it, Papá? Where did you get it?”

“I’ve always had this.” He chuckles, setting the item down between us. “You’ve surely seen this before.”

“I have…”

Haven’t I?

If I squint, I can remember seeing it, but it’s never made me feel so cold… so sick. Magic comes from it in waves. I hold my arms, rubbing at the goose bumps forming across my skin.

“Then why are you behaving so strangely now?”

“I just want to know where you got it.” I stand. “That’s all. Will you tell me, or not?”

“How can I possibly remember where I got every watch I own?” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’ve had it for decades. Is there a reason you find it so interesting?”

Short, bitter laughter falls from my lips. “G—” I choke on the word. After twenty-five years of life, I’ve never said it aloud.

I can think it, but the gods don’t want to hear my prayers. The lifeless deities and demons of the underworld cursed us, and heaven evades most of my kind.

“Margaux.” My father’s voice is stern, but I pay it no mind, marching to the door.

“I’m tired of your secrets.” Those are my last words before I find another reason to storm off from someone I love.

Perhaps I’m projecting. I’m the one carrying secrets, after all. Bigger secrets. But I don’t care. What is supposed to be an ordinary day has become one of the worst, and it is all… so… unfair.

It’s latewhen I return to my dormitory. I take some time to cool down, attend my evening classes, and memorize the lines in the play. Not only do I master my minimal lines, but the leading parts as well. Both of them, including Jun’s, in case a miracle happens.

After all, I would make a fine king. Much better than Jun-seong ever will.

I won’t hold my breath—though Icanhold it for an impressive amount of time. Nothing is going my way, and the play won’t be an exception.

The campus curfew is midnight now that all is supposedly well. I don’t scurry inside until the clock strikes twelve.

Tobey may not be there. She and Caldwell spend nights off campus from time to time, and considering the sour note I left our conversation on, I wouldn’t put it past her to run away for the evening.