That was no answer. I harrumphed at her.
She shrugged. “Anything else?”
“Maybe one more thing.”
She exhaled loudly. “One more?”
“If it all falls apart, if everything turns to ruin and chaos, I need you to look out for Gideon.”
She coughed a startled noise.
“He’ll sacrifice himself for me. I want you to stop him before he does. No matter what, you’ve got to save him.” I rose, clutching my collection of items, and faced Brigette. “Promise me?”
Her brow crinkled. Her throat worked. “Are you sure? What if saving him means sacrificing you?”
“I can take care of myself. Jackie Faercourt will do everything in his power to make sure nothing happens to me, and you and I have already planned for Jackie. I need someone to look out for Gideon the same way.”
Brigette shrugged. “I make no promises.”
Somehow, I suspected she would say that. “Midnight will be here before we know it. I’m going to get dressed and go down to the garage to see if Gideon needs anything.”
“I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”
In my room, I changed into black pants that fit like a second skin and stretched, allowing free range of movement. I tugged on a long black blouse and wrapped a length of dark rope around my waist several times, wearing it like a belt. After letting my hair loose, I ran a brush through it, smoothing snarled and knotted strands, and braided it back into a tight queue. Finally, I slipped on my Thunder Cloak, a plain black mask, and a pair of black gloves.
Our hotel suite was quiet and empty when I slipped out of my bedroom. I gathered the basilica’s blueprints, rolled them into a tube, and stuffed them into an interior pocket. No one remarked on my strange attire as I hurried down the hotel’s main stairway. The Season of Magic meant the rules of fashion and propriety no longer applied after sundown. Again, I savored the freedom of my momentary anonymity. If I successfully returned to Inselgrau and reclaimed my throne, my days of going anywhere unrecognized would swiftly come to an end.
But maybe I’d find an excuse to throw an occasional masquerade party of my own.
I found Gideon in the garage, applying a final coat of paint to the boat’s hull. Once bright white, it was now as dark and dull as a cloudy night.
“I need to paint the canopy too.” He gave me a quick glance, lips twitching with an inscrutable expression. “But I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
I removed my mask and pointed at the paintbrush in his hand. “You get changed. I’ll finish the boat.”
He disappeared into a shadowy corner while I smeared black paint over the canopy’s gaudy blue and white stripes. Harsh and acrid, the paint’s fumes tingled in my nose, and my eyes watered. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s in this stuff. Smells like it could peel your skin off.”
“Take my advice and don’t get any on you. It stains, and I have a feeling it won’t come out with regular soap.” He emerged from the shadows dressed in attire similar to mine. Snug black pants hugged his long legs, and a knitted shirt clung to his chest and shoulders.
He slid his mask on, shoved it up so it perched atop his head like a cap, and slipped into a long midnight-colored cloak. He looked dashing and dangerous. He was dashing and dangerous, and unbelievably appealing. I thanked the gods for fabricating the fate that had brought us together.
Giving me an arrogant grin, he gestured to his costume. “Like it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”
With the grace of a wraith, he ghosted to my side. “The boat looks good. But that was the easy part.”
Crouching, I tapped the lid onto the paint tin and stowed everything under a bench in the boat. “Did Niffin find you?”
“He did. He passed along your message.”
“What do you think?”
“I think we’re better safe than sorry.”
I stared at the boat, watching it rise and fall in a hypnotizing bob. “Would you think less of me if I told you I don’t want to do this?”
“No, I would think you were smart.” He squatted and took my hand, tracing a finger along the line running through the center of my palm. “I don’t want to do this, either. Jackie Faercourt is exactly where he deserves to be.”
“We could still run. Just you and me. We could go find some secret hideaway and start a new life.”
“How long would that last before you started hating yourself? Before you started resenting me?”
Cutting him a sharp look, I fisted my hand, trapping his finger. “I’d never resent you.”
“If I let you talk me into walking away from this, you would.”
“What does, or doesn’t, happen tonight is not your responsibility. The hardest part of what we’re about to do isn’t fearing what might happen to me, but what might happen to you and Brigette and anyone else with the unfortunate luck of getting swept up in my hurricane of trouble.”
Gideon had considered me impetuous and rash, and he hadn’t been wrong, but there was nothing like taking a bullet through the heart to make a person second-guess herself. I’d been afraid before, but my fear had been a quiet voice, easily drowned out by the roar of my thunder and my need to prove myself. The lightning and I had become a loop of cause-and-effect, me feeding my will into the storms while the storms cycled their brazenness back into me. But for now, the thunder was far away, and my fear was screaming, refusing to be silenced.
He folded his other hand over mine and squeezed. “The burden of a queen is to be the one who makes those difficult choices.”
“And be the one who must live with the consequences.” Justina had said something similar. Hearing it again from Gideon’s lips made it no easier to accept. I closed my eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and let it out, long and slowly. “You said Le Poing Fermé rules Inselgrau with lethal force, right?”
He nodded. “Anyone who has stood up to them has died.”
“Then I can’t walk away from my people and abandon them to that fate.”
