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Marie Lu

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“Sisters forever,” Violetta declared, in her tiny, young voice. Until death, even in death, even beyond. “I love you,” Violetta says, hanging fiercely on to me even as my strength dies. I love you too. I lean against her, exhausted. “Violetta,” I murmur. I feel strange, delirious, as if a fever had wrapped me in a dream. Words emerge, faint and ethereal, from someone who reminds me of myself, but I can no longer be sure I am still here. Am I good? I am trying to ask her. Tears fall from Violetta’s eyes. She says nothing. Perhaps she can no longer hear me. I am small in this moment, turning smaller. My lips can barely move. After a lifetime of darkness, I want to leave something behind that is made of light. Both of her hands cup my face. Violetta stares at me with a look of determination, and then she brings me to her and hugs me close. “You are a light,” she replies gently. “And when you shine, you shine bright.”

“Why can’t I be like that? Why can’t I be the father who just shrugs off the love of his daughter? Why can’t I be the Lead Inquisitor who enjoys watching his pleading victims burn at the stake? Why can’t I be the one who befriends a lonely, lost girl and then casts her out? Why can’t I be the one to strike first, to hit so early and with such fury that my enemies cower before they can ever think of turning on me? What is so great about being good?”

“Orang selalu berharap kau melanjutkan hidup secepatnya setelah mengalami kehilangan. Selama beberapa bulan pertama, simpati mencurahimu. Kemudian, pelan-pelan, berkurang, dan suatu hari kau mendapati dirimu sendiri berdiri sendirian di makam, bertanya-tanya kenapa orang lain sudah beralih memedulikan sesuatu yang lain sementara kau masih tetap di sini, tanpa suara masih membawa kesedihan yang sama. Orang jadi bosan dengan dukacitamu. Mereka menginginkan topik baru untuk dibicarakan. Jadi, kau berhenti mengungkitnya karena tidak mau membuat bosan siapa pun.”

“You killed the princess in the tower." "In some ways, she was already dead, wasn't she? Are you truly alive if you spend your entire life locked in a tower, hidden away for so long that you wouldn't even know to flee if the door opened for you?" His words rang deep in my chest, as true and clear as the music of him that had first called to me all those years ago. His irises were gold, hypnotizing me. *Are you alive, Nannerl?* they seemed to say to me. *Don't you want to be?*”

“Behold.” Magiano spreads his arms in a gesture of pretend triumph. “Revel in its majesty.” I wrinkle my nose. “Are you trying to impress me with a collapsed archway?” “No faith. No faith at all.” He is back to his old self, and it sends a rare thread of joy through my heart. “Follow me,” he murmurs. Then he takes a deep breath and dives down, grabbing my hand as he descends.”

“When Compasia took pity on me, she reached down into the Underworld, touched the shoulder of Moritas, and asked her forgiveness. Then Compasia took my sister in her arms and placed her in the sky, where she, too, turned to stardust. Magiano looks at me, his eyes wide. It seems as if he already, somehow, understands. “My goddess made me a promise,” I whisper. Only now do I realize that I have never seen him cry before. In the stories, Compasia and her human lover would descend each night from the stars to walk the mortal world, before vanishing with the dawn. So, together, we stare at the sky, waiting.”

“I suppose you come in here often, then,” I say, half teasing. “Bringing your maids and admirers?” Magiano frowns at that. He shakes his head. “You think I’m bedding every maid I speak to?” he says and shrugs. “Flattered, Your Majesty. But you are very wrong.” “So, what you’re telling me is that you come to this secret space alone?” He tilts his head in a flirtatious way. “What’s wrong with a thief wanting a little private time now and then?” He comes closer. His breath warms my skin like the fog that hovers over the water. “Of course, here you are. I suppose I’m not alone, after all.”