Page 44 of Red Masquerade

But did I even really care anymore?

Instead, I whirled on my heels, nearly running into a server with a tray of food, about to place our luncheon on the table.

“Helena!”

Ignoring my mother’s calling, I stormed out of the dining room, my heels clacking on the marble floor of the hotel’s foyer, shocked and concerned eyes following me until I was outside, leaning against the stone exterior wall, bent at the waist and wheezing.

I sucked air into my lungs, a sour taste coating my tongue.

No.No.

I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.

I braced a hand on the wall, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to ground myself in the cold air around me. I had rushed out so quickly I had not grabbed my coat and goosebumps were sprouting on my arms, the light sweater doing nothing against the cool early-spring breeze. But I relished in it, in the lack of warmth. It felt like I was alone, like no one was touching me, no hands grasping at my throat, no hands pulling my wrists down, no glowers or glares digging into me.

My back hit the wall of the hotel, my head falling back. Pedestrians passed me, all quizzical looks, proper women trying their best not to stare at the hyperventilating woman without a coat in the cool weather, all on her own. Clearly hysterical.

Heat bunched under my eyes, and I wiped my cheek, only to notice my face was wet. Angrily, I wiped my eyes, as delicately as I could, not to mess up what makeup lined my eyes.

How darehe. How dare Lucas even come here, under the guise of wanting to see me off.

He knew exactly what he was doing, stirring those memories up in me. Knew that it haunted me.

Reminding me to behave, to stay in my place, lest he reveal the truth to Mother—

Adam’s face flashed in my mind and I willed it away, my throat already tight with dread, with grief, with frustration.

Was it so wrong to wish the happiest time of my life had never happened, only so I would not feel the pain that I do now?

A sob caught in my throat, and when I opened my eyes, my breath was stolen.

Because there, across the bustling street, people and carriages and cars passing between us, was a familiar face.

Dark auburn hair framing pallid skin, strong cheekbones, hazel eyes, though eyes not full of cruelty, but a sort of concern, a recognition. Eyes that had stared into mine nights before. Eyes I had become intimately familiar with.

I sniffled, wiping my cheek once more.

But as soon as a large carriage passed between us, completely blocking the familiar face from view, he vanished, the spot on the sidewalk where he had stood, empty.

Fourteen

Night descended quicker than I was expecting.

I had left immediately from the luncheon, never returning inside, and found my way home amidst the bustle of the city streets, weaving my way through pedestrians and cars jam-packed into snaking lines down the avenues.

My tears had dried as soon as I saw his face—but surely I only saw him because Iwantedto see him; like my spirit knew better, and summoned the image of him to calm the ache in my chest, the anger spitting through me.

But it only left me more confused.

Promise me.

Whatever he wanted, I feared he may be too late. Lucas was ready to ship me off to another country. Then what?

I hugged myself as I wandered the streets, and when I returned to our house, the butler was surprised to see me walk up withoutMother or Lucas behind me. They must have still been at the hotel, because the car was absent.

“Miss?” our butler said, eyes wide when I opened the door myself.

I ignored him and trudged up the stairs to my room. Freezing tendrils wrapped around my limbs, like it was midwinter, yet the cool-but-warming air outside harkened the return of spring. Something was cooking in the kitchen, our cook already preparing dinner. It was nearly that time—and the two members of my family were still out, enjoying themselves. A few servants milled about, and paused, stunned, when they saw me.