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Back The Midnight Lie
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. EPILOGUE
  57. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  58. Also by Marie Rutkoski
  59. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  60. Newsletter Sign-up

Her black eyes widened. I saw her start to ask a question. Then, to my surprise, she did exactly what I had told her to do. She shifted her weight on the edge of the bed and turned so that I saw the back of her head, her neck and the perfect posture of her straight shoulders, the three hook-and-eye fastenings on the back of her dress. Steadily, I opened each one. “Since you have trouble doing it yourself,” I said. “Since I’m supposed to be your maid.”

She was quiet. The red silk of her dress lay open on her shoulders, exposing the skin of her back down to her waist. I had decided, resolutely, not to look at her bare skin. But a drop of water fell between her shoulder blades. For a moment I didn’t understand where the water had come from. I thought it might be an illusion.

But it was from my hair. The water droplet had slipped from the ends of my hair, wet from the bath. I saw her skin twitch. The water slid down her spine. It disappeared into the silk at her waist.

I stood. I said good night. I closed the door behind me.

I don’t think she knew my heart was twisting inside me like a blind animal.

I don’t think she knew I had held my breath as I undid each fastening.

She couldn’t have known how I went to my room and crawled into bed, worried about how bold I had been.

What I had done could easily have looked like nothing—no more than me performing my new job as her maid, for which she had paid handsomely.

But I knew what it really was.

I liked Sid too much. I liked the sight of her bare back. I had wanted to follow the water droplet with my fingertip.

In my bed in the dark I touched the Elysium feather where it burned against my breast. I wondered if the feather had made me want Sid. I wondered if it could make her want me.

25

MAYBE IF I HAD BEEN able to keep the Elysium bird, people in the Ward would have looked at me the way they did with Sid beside me: in disbelieving wonder. The heat was as bad as it had been the day before, but people came out into the streets when they heard the gossip about a High lady visiting the Ward. They saw the gold-embroidered indigo batiste of her simply cut dress, her easy yet perfect posture that made everyone else look like they were slouching, and how the sunlight caught her short hair. Sid refused to carry a parasol.

“You’ll burn,” I warned. Her skin was too pale.

“You, I notice, are not carrying a parasol.”

“I’m darker than you. Anyway, I’m not allowed. It’s not my kith.”