Star's Crossing

51: Knives and Poison Over Tea

It was true Mare had work to do. She was not yet certain how to complete the novel, as most of the tale was based in truth, and the next pages had not occurred. Life had to proceed before the ink could flow.

But Mare was no longer possessed with the idea of allowing another author to pen her story. It was time she began doing so herself. Which required a meal of crow and an exceptionally well-tailored apology.

Mare met Lilith in the Gilbert gardens. Lilith's father was home and hosting guests, and so the pair were to be unbothered. Mare saw Lilith from afar, the syrupy amber sun painting her like a stained glass window: porcelain skin, a braided halo of silver hair, deft fingers on the pages of a book, parted lips and eyes like gems.

Mare's heart hammered. She'd agonized over this conversation since the day she and Teddy had kissed; truthfully, she'd feared it even before, at the Watt estate for dinner, at the ball in Teddy's arms, drenched in the river, his body beneath hers, the night of the drinking and revel. Mare nearly laughed at the irony-she had been in love with Theodore Bridge far longer than she had known it. Writing be damned; Mare was an expert in denial.

With a steeling breath, Mare swept back her skirts and sat beneath a propped parasol across from her friend. Lilith did not look up, but continued reading, eyes moving quickly back and forth across the page. A servant arrived and poured tea, correctly observing the silence as dismissal and vanishing back through the roses.

"I owe you more than an apology," said Mare. Her voice was soft but still it felt as though it shattered the quiet of the gardens. "You saved me."

Lilith proceeded reading, blinking slowly.

"You saved me that night. Before we were friends, you saved me." Mare's throat constricted. She wanted to cry, but she knew Lilith would see this as theatrics. The white-haired girl preferred knives to poison; Mare had to know the difference, even while sipping tea. "You owed me nothing at all. We might have been rivals. But you took me under your wing. You fought for me. You broke rules for me."

Lilith gazed down at the book, but her eyes had ceased darting and her fingers hesitated on the pages.

"I love you," Mare said. "You are dear in my heart. You shall always be." Mare sighed and watched steam curl off the surface of her tea. "And I betrayed you."

"Four minutes," murmured Lilith.

"Pardon?"

"It took you four minutes." Lilith plucked a silver pocket watch from the small table between them. "As far as your confessions go, I suppose I should be pleased. After all, it could have taken you months."

Mare's cheeks heated, but she was nearly overcome with the perplexing urge to laugh. Lilith remained unmoving herself, and Mare would always respect her for it. "Lilith..."

"Yes?" The girl looked Mare in the eyes, and Mare imagined it was how prey might feel looking into the face of a dragon. "I'm listening, Ms. Atwood."

Any instinct to smile fell within Mare. "You owe me nothing."

"You're right about that." Lilith sipped her tea and inclined her head. "Carry on."

"I am sorry," Mare held Lilith's eyes, wishing she could take the girl's hand. "I am a fool. Selfish. Aimless. I knew how you felt about Teddy-Mr. Bridge-"

"Please, Mare. Spare me the ceremony."

"I loved him." Mare could barely breathe around the urge to cry, her throat tight, shoulders trembling. Mare was surprised when Lilith's eyes widened, but she pressed on, terrified she'd lose her courage. "I will never speak to him again. But I want you to know it was not wanton, it was not petty. I loved him. I have for some time, before my heart knew it was so. And I am sorry. If I could go back, Lilith, I would change it all."

Mare could restrain her foolish tears no longer. She wiped her eyes, closing them for the spare second of relief it lent. "I would never write the letters," she said. "I would swallow my pride and take a husband as he was given. All to spare you."

"Not yourself? Not your reputation?" Lilith's stern voice betrayed the slightest knife of emotion.

"No." Mare laughed sharply through her tears, holding Lilith's eyes imploringly. "I care not about myself or my reputation. Call me a fool, but in truth I'd let them go, all of it, simply to..." Mare swallowed her words, but Lilith's jaw was tight, her eyes narrow.

"To?" Lilith had closed her book. She gripped it so tightly her knuckles were white. "Do not dishonor me by lying. I am not made of glass."

No, Mare thought. You never were. Mare straightened, shouldering tears from her eyes. "To know the feeling."

Lilith breathed long through her nose. "Love?"

"And passion," Mare admitted. "You know me, Lilith. You know my heart."

"I do." Lilith looked off toward the late afternoon sun, its light like pollen dusted over the oak treetops. "I know my own, too."

Mare gazed at her. Silence ebbed between them, the edges of its tension rubbed smooth. For a moment it felt as though nothing insidious had ever transpired between the two of them. Mare wished it was so, and that the pit of regret burning through her would at last vanish.

"He wrote them," Lilith finally said. "I should have known. I saw the way that he looked at you. There were so many moments, and beneath my denial, I suppose I at least suspected. He never looked at me that way."

Mare looked into her lap. "I am sorry, Lilith."

"For loving him? For your part? For being caught?"

"For choosing myself over you." Mare looked at Lilith squarely. "In the moment that I kissed him, I chose my anger and my desire over your feelings. Over my respect for you. And it will never happen again; I vow it. If you choose to forgive me, now or in a week or a year or ten, I vow I will never again prioritize my own foolish whims over our friendship. Because I love you, too, Lilith. You are my dearest friend, and my most trusted ally, and there is no one I would rather go into battle with or for."

Mare knew tears ran down her face again, but she didn't look away from Lilith.

"It was not a foolish whim, Mare," Lilith said, her voice soft. "You love him still, don't you?"

Mare swallowed. How many times in the last few weeks, in the last few months, had she asked herself this same question? How many lies had she crafted to fool the world? Herself?

"Don't lie to me," Lilith advised, and Mare was grateful. She was very tired of lying.

"I love him," Mare said, surprised when a soft sob broke the sentiment as it left her lips. "I have loved him for a long time, and I fear I always will."

Lilith sighed, straightening, expression inscrutable. "Then I suppose I ought to tell you. Our engagement has been broken."

Mare's blood ran cold. "Someone discovered his infidelity?"

"No." Lilith looked over her shoulder at her father's sprawling estate. "The Bridges, Watts, and Doores-as of this week, they are destitute."

Mare stared at her friend, not comprehending. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The railroads. Their investment has been depleted; their partner was a crook. Before he fled the country, he took them for all of their worth." Lilith worried her lip, as though debating. Then she looked at Mare. "Word is, your sister and her husband had a hand in the play."

No.

"Either way," said Lilith, standing and dusting her dress. "Our betrothal has been withdrawn. My father will not let me marry a pauper." Lilith looked down on Mare. "Theodore Bridge is all yours, Mare. If you will have him."