‘That would be your prerogative, Miss Warren,’ Eustace said, ‘but I sincerely hope you will not do so.’

Rosa took a deep breath. She could undo it all, right here and now. She need never know the pain of Eustace’s fingers pinching her skin, or the agony of losing Esme. There would be no hideous frozen carriage ride through the Alps, a journey that did not seem to end. There would be no tormented night-time wandering of Raven Hall’s endless corridors. So much pain and suffering that she would never have to live through. But there would be no Ada, either.

‘I will leave you to think,’ Eustace said. ‘Perhaps I might call again in a week?’

He gave her a stiff bow and then turned for the door. His voice was perfectly courteous and his expression pleasant enough, but Rosa could tell from the set of his shoulders that her response had displeased him.

‘Wait,’ she said, so softly that Eustace did not hear, and she was forced to repeat herself to get him to stop and turn round. ‘I do not need time to think about it, after all,’ she said. ‘I have my answer already. And, yes. I should be honoured to become your wife.’

Eustace’s lips parted, exposing his white, even teeth. ‘My dear,’ he said, ‘you have made me very happy.’

And thus the moment stitched itself back together again, returning to the path it had been on previously. Eustace walked forward to embrace her but, to Rosa’s relief, the scene faded away before he could get there. The townhouse disappeared and the sparkling carousel rose up in its place. The tune came to an end and the horses stopped. Rosa realised her undergarments were damp with sweat and she dismounted on trembling legs.

‘We did it,’ she whispered to her horse. ‘We finally did it.’

At long last here before her was the Carousel of Icicles that she had first read about in the pop-up book. The one that must surely win her the competition.

‘It had to happen,’ she told the horse. ‘Why else would you appear in the pop-up book?’

The horse had no answer, but quietly licked the last of the plum juice from its muzzle. The scent of smoke was still strong upon Rosa’s clothes, and the sound of the trees screaming echoed inside her head in a way that would surely haunt her for years to come. Yet she no longer regretted taking that plum, or damaging the garden, or setting fire to the trees. She would burn down the entire world if it meant being reunited with her daughter. And now, just in time for the end of the contest, she had something truly wondrous to offer the Spider Queen.

CHAPTER FORTY