Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles) (38 page)

Just before the lines in the floor disappeared entirely, she realized that she was making this harder than she had to. She took a deep breath. There was no way she could keep this from him forever anyway. And he was right – she needed to trust him. For the second time that day, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the little drawstring pouch.

He frowned when he saw the little bag in her hand. “What? ...” he started to ask, but she lifted her finger, shaking her head.

After carefully easing the ties open, she turned the pouch over, and the pendants fell into her hand.

William gasped before he’d even picked one up to look at it more closely. “One is yours, isn’t it?” he asked.

She nodded, picking up the shinier one and laying it in his outstretched hand. “The other one is my father’s.” That one she held between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing it nervously.

William didn’t speak as he held the pendant up into the light, examining it carefully on both sides. All of the color had drained from his face, and his hands began to shake visibly, the tiny chain of the pendant vibrating against the back of his hand.

“Quinn Katriel
Rose
,” he finally breathed, in a voice that was almost inaudible.

She nodded.

He looked at her now, shock the most dominant emotion in his eyes. “You’re the rightful heir to the throne.”

She nodded again.

They stood there for several minutes, William turning the pendant over and over in his hand until Quinn started to feel dizzy. “I think ... I need to sit back down,” she whispered.

Without a word, he followed her back to the couch, where they sat in silence again, for what felt like a very long time.

Finally, he took a deep breath. “How long have you known?”

“My mom just gave me the pendants when I went home a few days ago.”

He was quiet again, and her throat started to feel very tight; she had trouble pulling in a deep breath. Her knees came back up to her chest, and the longer he was silent, the tighter she curled into her ball. “Are you mad at me?” she managed to squeak.

Instantly, his expression unfroze, and he turned his entire body toward her. His eyes swept over her, taking in her posture, and in the next second he was sitting next to her, gently reaching deep into the ball to put his hand over her heart.

“Hey,” he said, in a voice so gentle it made the tears that had been hiding behind her eyes begin to pour, without warning, down her cheeks. “Quinn, of course I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at
you
about this?”

She shrugged, still huddled tight behind her knees. “Because I didn’t tell you right away? Because it doesn’t make any sense? Because – because what in the
hell
am I supposed to do about this, Will?”

*          *          *

After he’d walked Quinn back to her room, William did not go to check on Clara as he’d told her he was going to. If Nathaniel wanted to keep secrets like
this
from him, he could take care of a patient for a while on his own, too.

How could Nathaniel – his parents – anyone else who knew about this keep it from him for this long?

He’d glanced into the sitting room and the play room when he’d walked by and seen that they were both empty – everyone had migrated to their bedrooms for the night.
Good.
He walked all the way to the end of the hallway and stopped just outside the door to his parents’ private apartment. He knocked – three sharp raps on the door – and then waited. He knew they would still be awake.

His mother answered the door, already in her dressing gown, his baby sister curled in her arms.

“Will!” Charlotte said, surprised. “What’s going on?”

Before he could answer, his father appeared behind her. “I’m guessing he needs to talk, Charlotte. Come on in, Son.”

“That should not be allowed.”

Quinn turned from her spot in front of the mirror in her bedroom to see Thomas standing in the open doorway. She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You, looking like that. It should be expressly against the law. Nobody will be able to pay attention to anything else tonight.”

She blushed. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He walked across the room to stand next to her. All day yesterday and today he’d been practicing walking without using his crutches at all. She was impressed how well he was already doing.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at her reflection in the mirror. “Not true? Have you looked at yourself?”

She looked. It
was
a pretty dress, the full skirt overlaid with a crisscross of purple velvet strips with complex flowers cut out of them. The top was form-fitting and simple, held up by lacy spaghetti straps. Mia had spent over an hour braiding her auburn hair in an intricate pattern until it hung just right at the nape of her neck.

She turned to Thomas. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself.”

He grinned. “That’s never been a secret,” he said, shaking his shoulders so that the purple velvet cape he wore rippled down his back.

Quinn rolled her eyes. “I thought you were escorting Mia? You won’t be paying attention to her?”

“That’s a given. I haven’t seen her yet; I’m picking her up in her room on the way there. I know she did that to your hair, so really it’s a compliment to her.”

“I hope so,” Quinn said, punching him lightly on the arm. “She was quite excited when she left here to get herself ready.”

“Found it!” Linnea called, as she came back into the room, holding up a tube of lipstick Quinn had once brought her from Bristlecone. “It’s the final touch.”

“I can do it myself, you know,” Quinn said as Linnea stood in front of her, brandishing the make-up.

“You won’t use enough if I let you do it,” Linnea answered.

“There’s a fine line between your version of enough, and looking like a clown in the circus,” Quinn said.

“What’s a circus?” Linnea asked.

She sighed and stood still, allowing Linnea to have her fun. Although she liked to tease her friend, she had discovered that Linnea actually knew what she was doing when it came to make-up, unlike Quinn, who felt hopeless most of the time when it came to stuff like that.

“Thomas and Linnea, it’s about time to be getting downstairs,” Rebecca called from the doorway.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Linnea said.

Thomas looked at Quinn. “Really, sweetheart, you look beautiful. We’ll see you in a few minutes?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling like she had no idea what she was doing. “Provided I don’t fall on my face on the stairs.”

“Not going to happen; I’ll be holding your arm,” William’s said, coming into the room.

“Will.” Her lips broke into a grin, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him in his formalwear – perfectly pressed black pants, a crisp, white button-down shirt, and the purple velvet cape fastened at the neck with a silver pin bearing the symbol of Eirentheos. The silver of his wire-framed glasses looked as if it was made to match.

Relief, too, overtook her as he entered the room. It was the first time she’d seen him today; he’d left early this morning to do something,  and knowing how William often disappeared like that when he was upset about something, she’d spent a good part of the day nervous, wondering if it had anything to do with her. Yesterday, too, there had been so much for everyone to do with party preparations and he’d been so busy with Clara Halpern and her family, that she hadn’t really had the chance to talk to him, to see how he was really feeling about what she’d told him the other night.

“Wow,” he said, coming to stand in front of her and taking her hand in his. The look in his eyes melted her anxiety away almost instantly. “You’re so beautiful, Quinn.”

Heat flowed from the top of her head all the way to her toes, bringing with it a new kind of feeling, a certainty about him that she hadn’t fully felt before. She stared into his warm, gray eyes, seeing so clearly who he was, and understanding how she felt about him. As strange as this whole situation was – this part, with him, was right.

Thomas and Linnea grinned at each other. “We’ll see you downstairs,” Thomas said, leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of Quinn’s head before he hobbled out of the room after his sister.

William watched as they disappeared through the door, and then turned back to her. “I have something for you,” he said, reaching inside his pants pocket.

Her breath quickened as he pulled out a little purple pouch.

“What is it?”

“Open it,” he said, setting it in her outstretched hand. The crushed velvet was impossibly soft and light sitting on her palm while William untied the satin drawstrings.

Reaching inside, she pulled out a delicate silver chain. It was too small to be a necklace …

“It’s a bracelet,” he said, “a traditional courtship gift. I had it made so you could wear it tonight.”

Hands shaking, heart hammering, she held it up in the light so she could see it more closely. Suspended in the center of the chain was a small silver band. On one side of the band were his initials, and the symbol on his pendant, the ameliorosa flower. The reverse held Quinn’s initials, QRR, and an engraving of a rose.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows knitting together.

“I figured it was best for now, to keep the name you’re used to. We can always have it changed if you make a different decision.”

“And the rose?”

He shrugged, slipping the chain around her wrist and fastening the clasp. “It seemed … appropriate.”

She rubbed her thumb over the design. “I guess it kind of is. I feel bad now; this is much nicer than what I have for you, and it’s your birthday.” Feeling awkward now, she stared down at her wrist, watching the little silver bar dangle there, catching the rays of evening light through the window.

“Hey, Quinn … you’ve already given me what I really want tonight.” Gently, he put his finger under her chin, lifting her face until her eyes met his. When she finally smiled, he kissed her on the forehead.

“What do you have for me, though?” he asked, grinning.

She walked across the room and pulled the little gift bag out of her armoire.

William’s eyes lit up when he felt the heft of the bag. He pulled out the tissue paper and grinned at her.

“It’s really not much,” she said.

His eyes were moist as they met hers. “It’s perfect, Quinn. The kind of gift that could only come from you.”

“I don’t have something to give to you for our courtship.”

Kissing her forehead again, he took her hands in his. “I know you don’t. You didn’t have any idea what to expect. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be in a world where you don’t understand the traditions and formalities, and every day it seems like there’s something else you were supposed to do, but you had no idea.”

She squeezed his hand, thinking of all of the years he must have felt like that at school. “What was I supposed to get you?”

His hand went into his pocket yet again, and she gasped as he withdrew another silver bracelet. The chain on this one was much heavier and thicker, but the silver bar was the same. “Put it on me?”