Page 79 of My Faire Lady

I have to make sure she wins.

Blowing out a long breath, I wake my magic, pulling a rune to mind that I’ve never used. There’s a boundary I’ve upheld that my ancestors didn’t bother honoring. The magic of persuasion—of influence. A rune where the caster can sway someone’s opinion.

I lift a finger over the bodice, poised directly where the heart of the wearer would be.

“What are you doing?”

My shoulders stiffen, but I don’t lower my hand, even as Boden walks through the shoppe and into the back room. His presence dips into my mind, and usually when I sense him, I’ve had enough training to lock away certain thoughts. But this time, I don’t bother.

“I can’t let her stay,” I whisper. “She said she wants to stay if she doesn’t win the competition. But she needs to win, Boden. She has to live a life beyond these borders.”

“So you’re going to rig the competition?”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek until my teeth pierce skin. “I’m giving her the life I’ll never have.”

“What if she finds out?”

“She won’t.”

His shoulder’s deflate, and he circles to my other side, the moonlight from the doorway a spotlight on his face. “Who are you to judge what she wants with her life?”

The words tangle in my mouth, turning in somersaults and knotting together. I’ve lived this life, and I know what it’s like to wake up and do the same thing every single day. There is no spontaneity to my life. There’s only trees and sky and an invisible border on the land that I can’t leave for more than a day.

Boden sighs, resigned. “You know, Scarlet, maybe one day you’ll realize that it’s not where you are, but who you’re with.”

He walks away, but his words linger in the air, cloying against my skin.

But how could I live with myself if one day her eyes searched the horizon, looking for something more? Whatever this is between us, and whatever it could be, what if it wasn’t enough for her one day?

I can’t bear the thought.

Magic floods into my palm, stretching up my fingertips, and I trace the rune against the bodice. A shimmer ripples over the boning and down the skirt, and I close my eyes, willing the judges to choose her. For her to win the contest and the admittance to a university on the other side of the world.

A single tear escapes my eyes, drips down my cheek.

She’ll win, and I’ll never see her again.

28

“If you don’t hold still, I might accidentally stab you,” I say, balancing a safety pin between my teeth as I adjust the cape around Scarlet’s neck.

“Deepest apologies.”

Rolling my eyes, I drape the chain of diamonds across her collarbones—weaving them into the chainmail. The gems sparkle against her skin, and I step back, smiling at my work.

She studies herself in the mirror. “It’s beautiful, Lottie.”

“Just like its wearer.”

In the reflection, crimson spreads across her cheeks, and she dips her head. Something in my chest warms, spreading over my torso and down my limbs. If I win, it’ll be an impossible decision—choosing between her and a program that would put an ocean between us.

I step closer and adjust the train, sweeping it out behind her. “Do you think they’ll like it?”

Kelsey steps up beside me, camera in hand. “If they don’t choose you, I know a place where we can buy roaches and name them after the judges. They’ll feed them to birds and send you a video.”

I blink at her, scrunching my nose. “Is that something you do…often?”

“Let’s just say I’ve contributed a lot of money to the Bronx Zoo.” She shrugs. “It’s for a good cause.”