Limping down the corridor of an unfamiliar wing, I leaned on Henry for support and tried my best not to scratch at the rough fabric. It was completely unfair. Henry got to wear pants—even Ava had the option, if she wanted—but with Ella in charge of my wardrobe, I was stuck in costumes from the dark ages. She may have thought they were beautiful, but I would have preferred a toga to those instruments of torture. No amount of wearing them was going to make me like them. Ever. And Ella knew that. It was why she did it, I was sure of it.
While I wondered whether or not it’d be a mark against me if I ran around in my underwear, Henry opened the door to a room I’d never been inside before. At first I couldn’t make much out from behind him, but when he stepped aside, my jaw dropped, and the cloud of misery that had plagued me since seeing my score dissipated.
The suite was stuffed with clothes hanging off of racks, arranged by size and color and God only knew what else. They spanned so many eras that it looked like a costume shop, and there were dresses and shoes and shawls and—
My knees went weak.
Sweaters and jeans.
“Ella mentioned you did not feel comfortable in the outfits she chose for you,” said Henry. “As a reward for failing a test with a higher score than my own, I believe a new wardrobe is in order.”
I stared at him and then at Ella, who gave me a rare smile. Were they for real?
“Oh, my God!”
I wasn’t the one to say it. Instead the high-pitched squeal came from behind me, and when I whirled around, Ava stood there, her mouth hanging open. Calliope lingered nearby, looking as excited as I felt.
“Are these all for you?” blurted Ava, moving past Ella to stand with me.
“I think so,” I said with a grin. “Want some?”
She stared at me like I’d grown another head. “Do I want some?”
I laughed and looked at Henry. “Can she?”
“Of course.”
That was all she needed to hear. In an instant she’d disappeared, sorting through the archaic dresses I had no intention of touching. Instead of joining her, I turned to Calliope and Ella. “You two can have whatever you want, too,” I said, glancing at Henry. “If that’s all right with you, I mean.”
He nodded. Just like Ava, Ella and Calliope rushed into the room, leaving me behind with Henry. He gestured toward my ankle. “Are you able to make it through the room without assistance?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, eyeing the piles of sweaters. Even from a distance, they beckoned. As much as I liked being near Henry, I was still embarrassed about my breakdown, and I didn’t want him to think I was incapable of getting through the day without him, even though he did seem to know exactly how to make things better.
I’d limped halfway across the room before I realized he was trailing a few feet behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned. “Henry, really, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“I have no intention of helping you walk,” he said in an innocent voice I wasn’t buying. “I was merely going to offer to carry your things.”
“If you say so.” I raised an eyebrow, but while I didn’t want him to know it, I was grateful he was there.
That night, long after Henry left, I was on the edge of sleep when a soft knock on my door pulled me away. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed, hobbling to the door. I’d spent all evening looking forward to telling my mother that I’d passed a test and hadn’t disappointed Henry yet, so whoever was on the other side of the door had to have a damn good reason for interrupting.
“What?” I said as I cracked open the door, squinting against the light from the hallway.
It was Ava. “Are you still awake?” she whispered, and I glared at her.
“No, I’m sleepwalking.”
“Oh.” She eyed me as if she were trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not. “As long as you’re up, c’mon—I want to show you something.”
She reached out to take my hand, and I stood my ground. “The only place I want to go is back to bed.”
“Too bad.” Ava gripped my hand so hard that trying to pull away would’ve likely resulted in broken fingers, and I was having enough trouble with my ankle already. “I’ll get you back to bed before the sun comes up, I promise.”
Not the most comforting reassurance, but she wasn’t giving me much of a choice. Finally, huffing loudly so she couldn’t miss it, I followed her, the carpet rough against my bare feet.
“Where are we going?” I said, but Ava shushed me as we turned the corner. There were guards stationed up and down the hallways leading to my rooms, and at least three of them had seen us so far, so I had no idea why she felt the need to sneak around.
The dull ache in my ankle turned into sharp pain, and I struggled to keep up with her, but she didn’t slow down. At last, when we reached a dark corridor, she stopped and pointed to a door ten feet away.
It was different from the others in the manor, made of dark wood with ornate carvings that created a scene I couldn’t quite make out. Light spilled out from the other side, and Ava tiptoed toward it, gesturing for me to follow.
This time I didn’t ask any questions. I moved with her clumsily, keeping a hand against the wall to keep myself from tripping and announcing our presence to whoever was behind the door. The closer we got, the clearer the scene on the door became, and soon I realized what it was. On the top half of the door was a beautiful meadow, with tiny flowers carved into the wood and trees on either side. Somehow the artist had managed to make it look sunny, and it reminded me so strongly of Central Park that a lump caught in my throat.
But underneath it, the scene changed. A layer of earth separated the meadow from a dark river that flowed underneath, and beside it there was a delicate garden. Instead of growing from the soil, it grew from jagged stone. The trees weren’t trees; they were made of something solid, and even though it was only a piece of art, I could tell they weren’t meant to be alive. And in the center of the picture stood pillars of jewels forming an arch above a single flower, tiny and weak in its surroundings.
As spellbound as I was by the beautiful carvings, I overheard voices leaking through the crack in the door. At first I couldn’t make them out properly, but Ava nudged me closer, and gathering my courage, I peeked into the room.
Henry stood with his back to me, his shoulders hunched as he stared at something I couldn’t see. He turned enough so I could make out his profile, and something inside of me ached when I saw that his eyes were red.