Girl of Flower and Flame

Chapter Six

It was cold in the shadowy room, forty degrees, worse than the rain that was filling the pond behind the house. The only warmth inside was Tut singing Madam a lullaby, lovelier than any of them could have imagined from him. Some mornings, Eulalia had heard him singing the same song to the marsh marigolds.

Madam had always suffered from perpetually cold hands and could benefit from some warmth.

The derelict banister wobbled. Eulalia held on so tight. She might've fallen if she let go. It was hard to stay calm when the safety of Rowan's arms was several feet away and Liliana a few more fateful steps.

Whatever I do, I mustn't make any deals with her.

That Eulalia knew.

"You think I've made a mistake?" asked Liliana. "Care to explain?"

"Yes, I do." Eulalia halted at the bottom of the staircase, her slender feet turned in, rumpling the rug. She felt silly in her shabby socks, with her skirt bunched in her fists, a habit she'd kept since her first time at Hampstead House. She untangled her fingers and straightened her back. Though her throat clear was faint, Liliana must have heard it. Their cobwebbed chandelier couldn't dull her smile, white as bleached rice.

"Whatever business you have here is finished. Leave now before we call the police," Eulalia said, with all the base in her voice she could muster.

Liliana's laughter could've withered the shrubbery. "You've made an appearance at last. I was wondering when you would. Clara was never a good liar. So, you're the one she doesn't want to give up." She pinched her chin, her rosy lips pursed. "You're pretty enough for Andris I suppose. He has a taste for brown-eyed girls. What's your name, halfling?"

The look she gave Eulalia wasn't one Eulalia had seen her give the other children, her brows arched perilously high. Eulalia stumbled against the stairs, taken aback by her curiosity. Did faeries have a conscience? She couldn't tell. Liliana's cool exterior didn't give much away. Did she have a heart at all beneath all that velvet?

Eulalia glanced at Rowan. The children had gathered around him, quivering in Liliana's wintriness. Harlow clung to his leg, her little fingers holding taut to the closest thing she had to a guardian now. Eulalia couldn't read his mind, as much as she wanted to, but the fury in his eyes was plain.

Don't do it.

He spoke without saying anything at all.

I have no choice.

Eulalia wished he could read her mind. "Why do you want my name?" she asked.

Liliana shrugged. "It's only polite conversation."

You liar.

"Where has Clara been hiding you away? What has she been telling you all these years? That she cares about you?" Liliana's voice dropped in pitch. "That she kept you here for company? Of course, you didn't believe it, did you?" Her gaze widened. "You're too smart for that."

She looks like Sylvie's porcelain dolls.

Eulalia's palms itched for Rowan's hand to hold or to cling to her skirt again, her fingers just brushing the fabric. "Don't you worry about that," she said. "Like I said, you have no business here." Her tone was unconvincing, but she straightened her shoulders again. What she'd seen Liliana do to Madam was reason enough to be afraid.

I could tell the children to run. Maybe we'll get far enough.

She didn't think so, not from the way Liliana moved.

Liliana's pale arched brows lowered to normal proportions. "My business with Clara has been longstanding. It's not my fault she didn't bother to mention why she's been keeping you lot." She treaded forward, as though on water, because her cloak was too long over her feet. "Do you know about my country? Do you know who I am?" She drifted closer, sending a gust of chilliness Eulalia's way. "No? I didn't think so." She turned with a full sweep of her cloak. "For all of you who are wondering, my name is Princess Liliana Bruma of Mondegreen. I am the daughter of your king, halflings. So, unless you want to end up like Clara, I suggest you do what I say."