My fingers bleed.

All that manipulative magic, and they still left the thorns on.

I wipe my hands across the bodice of my dress. The blood turns it a deep, morbid purple.

“It’s ruined.”

“What?” I jerk my head up toward Roman’s voice, letting my eyes stop on his slender throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he clears it.

“Your dress.”

“Oh.” I look down at myself. More than just my dress is ruined, but he’s too polite to say so.

The damn flowers are back.

Ignoring Roman, I twist my fist around a particularly thorny bundle and pull.

Fresh blood drips down my thumb.

Roman takes a soft step toward me and drops to his knees in my pile of dead roses. Vaguely, I’m aware that the thorns must be ruining his pants. He always wears such nice pants.

I hold out my fist of now dead flowers. “At least they’re real now.” I still only look at his throat. I don’t want to see pity on his face.

His chin bobs just in my line of vision. One slender hand reaches past me, latching onto a handful of flowers and yanking. For a while he works with me in this simple and mindless task.

Finally I stop and hold out my mangled hands on my lap.

Roman reaches for them. His are already healed, but traces of blood still linger.

He wants to heal me too, but I pull my hands away. “I don’t want to heal.”

He nods. “Some wounds take time.”

A sob catches in my throat, and I keep it there.

“We need to go,” Roman says.

I meet his eyes for the first time, and it’s not pity there but anger.

I cringe away from it, and he turns his head from me. When he looks back it’s softened, lingering behind concern.

The anger’s not for me.

“You knew. Did they do it to Beatrice too?”

“No. But still, I suspected. Last year I noticed that their apprentice seemed a bit enamored with Xander, but I’d also noticed his closeness to Aristelle. I couldn’t be sure, though. I think they keep their relationship quiet for this reason. With me chasing away their apprentices, I might have made them desperate.” He sighs, rocking forward and bringing his hands together. “Some troupes find their apprentices honestly, and others use… manipulation.”