Scarlett reached into her pocket, checking once again to make sure the Reverie Key was still there. At least she was protected—if she wanted to escape all she needed to do was shove the key in the closest lock. And yet she couldn’t shrug off her unease.

Even her dress seemed uncertain.

As she followed the map to the docks at the edge of the city, Scarlett’s gown turned a wary shade of brown, perfect for being overlooked. A few more steps over rickety wood and her nose tickled with the familiar scents of salt and fish and forever wet wood.

Trisda, the tiny isle where she’d spent most of her life, had always smelled like this. Rather than making her homesick, it made her want to flee, the same way Trisda had always made her want to flee. But Scarlett had decided after Caraval that she would not let fear rule her.

She counted the docks, following the map Nicolas had drawn for her until she came upon a long wharf covered with a black-and-gold carpet that led to a ship that looked like a floating palace. Its hull was carved with ornate images of mermaids and mermen holding tridents and seashells. The masts were decorated as well—giants with crowns of stars around their heads as they held out sumptuous purple sails.

It was almost offensive in its finery. This ship belonged to someone who thought extremely highly of himself. That wasn’t the impression she’d had of Nicolas. He’d seemed more down-to-earth. But everyone wore their disguises.

Scarlett stopped just as she stepped onto the dock. She’d felt nervous about meeting him before, but now she felt a lick of fear that warned her to turn around. She didn’t owe Nicolas anything.

Most people did not take rejection well. And it seemed especially unwise to reject Nicolas on his boat, which he could easily toss her over the side of—or sail away with her still on board.

She turned around. Scarlett wanted to be brave, but she didn’t want to be foolish.

“Scarlett? Are you Scarlett Dragna?” The voice didn’t sound like Nicolas.

Run. Hide. Scream. Her feelings turned bright warning red. She started to run.

But it was already too late.

A black bag went over her head.

“Let me go!” Scarlett tried to rip the bag off as she screamed. But her hands were yanked behind her and roughly tied together.

“Be careful with her,” a new voice commanded. “He wants his daughter undamaged.”

24

Donatella

Tella didn’t know what pure anticipation smelled like until she reached Legend’s Midnight Maze. The scent of red cloves and growing leaves permeated everything.

She had expected simple leafy green hedges, but she should have known better than to attach the word simple to anything involving Legend. Each living wall was formed of different rare flowers. Burning orange starfire lilies. Deep purple twilight thistles. Brilliant gold creeping faisies. Champagne delights. Scorching red feverbells. All of which grew and stretched with every person that stepped inside.

During her first Caraval, Tella had learned emotions were one of the things that fueled magic, making her wonder if Legend became stronger the more people enjoyed his party, and as a result, the glamour and illusion of the party also grew.

Not that Tella had seen Legend. But she’d heard a few whispers about how magnificent His Handsomeness looked tonight. Apparently, the nickname hadn’t just been part of her dream. But Tella still felt a possessive urge to snap at anyone who uttered it.

Her nerves over what Legend might ask and how she would respond attacked, knotting her up as she slipped deeper into the maze. The fireflies had arrived, making everyone she passed appear a little enchanted as their laughter and flirtations tripped over her head.

Contrary to what the name implied, the Midnight Maze did not begin at midnight. It started around sundown when the horizon was a battle of colors, as if the clouds were trying to break free from the sky. They were probably attempting to reach the maze, which was full of even more colors.

Tella wouldn’t have been surprised if some of it was Legend’s doing. With so many enthusiastic emotions swirling around the maze, his magic should have been growing stronger. Perhaps that was another reason why he’d wanted to go through with hosting the maze—he needed it to fuel his powers before the Fates finished waking up.

“Oh, look!” a nearby partygoer exclaimed. “That door just sprung up in the middle of the hedge. Let’s see if it takes us to the center of the maze.”

Tella heard a rustle of dancing skirts and a muttered “Gentlemen first.”

Then the giggling pack of people in front of her was gone, vanished through a door bursting with celestial blue dragonsnaps that disappeared along with them. Only a hovering parade of fireflies and a patch of near-silence remained. All Tella could hear was the flutter of wings, soft as dreamy lullabies and delicate as butterflies.

Her skin tickled with fluttering that she only usually felt in her stomach as she looked down to see her dress coming to life with the beat of a hundred wings. Tella laughed and butterflies burst free from a skirt that had been inanimate only moments ago.

Legend was there.

He had to be nearby. He was bringing her dress to life and making the maze shift in front of her eyes. It moved more rapidly than before, growing taller and thicker and stronger. Leafy crenulations formed at the top of it, giving everything an enchanted castle-like appearance.

She chased after the butterflies leaping off her dress until she found a glowing archway formed of dazzling white diamond peonies.

As soon as she was through the arch, the flowers moved behind her, sealing her away from the rest of the party and leaving her alone with Legend.

She took several heartbeats just to drink him in.

A dusting of bronze light surrounded him, making his skin glow and his eyes look a little brighter, as Legend leaned against a leafy wall on the opposite side of the enclosure. He was dressed in shades of charcoal black except for the deep red trousers he wore, tucked into tall polished boots. His coat was longer than usual, nearly to the ground, with a regal high collar lined in intricate thread the same color as the bronze light surrounding him, as if bits of the setting sun had stayed behind just to cling to him.

“You’re such a show-off,” she teased.

He gave her a devastating grin. “Only when I’m trying to impress a girl.” His eyes took their time looking her over, sparking a little as they lingered on the delicate ribbons that made up her bodice, before finally meeting her eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He pushed off the wall and stalked closer. But, for once, instead of hearing the confident stride of his boots, all she could hear were the words he’d written in his note: I meant what I said about wanting you.

More butterflies took off from her skirt as Legend stopped right in front of her, close enough to touch. The world no longer smelled like anticipation. It smelled like him. Like magic and heartbreak.

Please don’t break my heart again, she thought. Even if he didn’t ask her to marry him, he looked as if he was going to ask for something. Their secluded corner of the maze was growing brighter, full of infant stars that glittered and danced and shined, but Legend’s gaze remained firmly on hers, intent and intense and as intimate as any touch.

Her breathing turned shallow.

His mouth twitched at the corner. “Have I scared you already?”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“I thought I already told you, I’m only trying to keep you.” His lips brushed a kiss to hers.

The maze, the party, the world, disappeared. His mouth was soft and then it was gone.

It happened so fast, Tella might have thought she imagined it if not for the teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“I came here to claim a prize, not to be played with.” Tella held out a hand as if to collect.

Legend laughed, deep and rumbling. “I’ll always want to play with you. But tonight I’m not playing. I want you, Donatella Dragna. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I’ve never asked anyone this, either.” His voice dropped so low it made her toes curl inside her slippers and half the butterflies on her skirt take flight.

Scarlett was right. He was going to propose.

His eyes grew brighter and his smile turned tempting. “I want to keep you, Tella. I want to make you immortal.”

Everything inside of Tella went still. Immortal. He was asking to make her immortal, not to marry him.

“I’d say you could take all the time you need to think about it. But now that the Fates are awake, I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to risk losing you.” Legend’s hands wrapped around her waist. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again, but this time it wouldn’t be just a quick brush of his lips. She could feel his hands growing hotter as his fingers spread out over her rib cage.

If she leaned in, he’d kiss her until it consumed her, until she couldn’t breathe without him and she gasped yes to whatever he asked.