House of Marionne

Part 4

Red hopped off the porch of her parents’ farmhouse and started toward Yagrin. Her wide brim hat shielded most of her face, but he couldn’t mistake those worn overalls and that bright smile even so far away. Her fingertips skimmed the tops of billowing tall grass as she twirled through the field, making her way to him. The low sun glinted in her auburn hair, and he dug a nail into his palm to be sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Her toes were dusty and unpainted. She was barefoot. He shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. He started toward her, but the phone in his pocket vibrated, tugging at him like a leash.

He halted.

His pulse picked up at the name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Did you see the announcement in Page Six?”

Sweat broke out on his neck. He had. “Mother, how are—”

“What updates do you have on Quell?”

“You said find her, bring her to—”

“I know what I said! What have you accomplished?”

He tensed at her raised tone. “I found her at the Tavern. But it was too crowded to make a move.”

“You wouldn’t hide anything from me, would you, Yagrin?”

The phone slipped in his slick hands. “No, ma’am.” The lie was bitter, an acquired taste.

“And dare I ask, what’s the status of your first target? It’s been weeks.”

Pink beanie. “Done.”

“Not from where I’m standing. I haven’t seen proof.”

“I have it with me.”

“It’s incomplete, Yagrin.”

He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.” Would she make him come to her right now? He bit down. He hated this, so much.

“And where are you now, pray tell?”

Red finally made it to him and curled under his arm, her fingers playing on his face, stroking the little hair he’d managed to grow there.

“I am . . .” He cupped her fingers, kissed them and pressed a finger to his mouth. She frowned. He put some distance between them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mother said. “I expect both assignments done and soon. Quell’s done before she reaches Third Rite. I don’t care how hard she is to get to at that House. Am I understood?”

Red picked flowers and made funny faces at him. He bit back a smile. “Yes.”

“Do I amuse you, Yagrin?”

“No, ma’am. I’m a bit distracted.”

“Then undistract yourself!”

He turned his back and waved Red away firmly.

“There’s one other matter. The Tidwell Ball is coming up. I have some goods being moved, and I want my people there to oversee it. I’ll send the details securely.”

“Got it.”

“And Yagrin?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“You’re getting sloppy, people are starting to notice.”

The line went dead.

His chest squeezed.

“I thought I told you we don’t do phones out here.” Red pulled his Order-issued phone from his fingers and tossed it in the dirt. He stroked her face, then sighed.

“I have to go.”

“You just got here yesterday. You said you’d stay the whole week, while my parents are gone. Yags?”

“Work.”

“Your work,” she grumbled. “I hate your work. Have I ever told you that?”

He’d never told her a thing about his work, only that he was employed by a small family-owned business and because of that, when they needed him, he had to go. He kept Red far away from the truth, for her own safety. Unmarked weren’t welcomed in his world.

“I’m sorry. I have to go take care of a thing and then get all ready for a ball coming up.”

“A ball? That sounds fancy.” Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip and he kissed her again. Fancy on the surface, maybe. His work would happen in the shadows while the others danced and dined.

“Take me with you.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I can’t.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t really know you.” She looked away, and a flicker of something he’d never seen before gleamed in her eyes. As if her frustration could boil over and turn her into someone else.

“Don’t say that.” He squeezed her hand. “You know more of me than anyone.”

“Then I know you want me on your arm, wherever you’re going.”

She wasn’t wrong. His father had promised Headmistress would help set him up with someone from a “good family” after Yagrin finished his early Dragun years. To further the family lineage. But Yagrin hadn’t figured out how to break it to them that that was where he drew the line. He could do their Order errands, be the monster that they wanted. But in every other way, he was Red’s. For as long as she would have him.

“Take me to the ball, Yagrin.”

He hated the way her forehead wrinkled when she was disappointed. The way her lips pursed out. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t safe. For now these visits to her farm, moments of escape, were all he’d been able to settle for in the last several months. He wanted more for them. But when had what he wanted ever truly mattered?

“You’re ashamed of me,” she said, sticking out her lip coyly. “Agree, and I’ll put you on your ass.” She roped her arm behind his back and pulled him into a headlock.

He wriggled from her hold and threw her over his shoulder. She beat on his back, unwinding the knot he was with her laughter. She was the dusky glow of sunset, a cozy blanket by a fire. Out here in the middle of nowhere he was more at home than he’d ever felt at Hartsboro.

She pulled at his pockets and out came a knitted beanie. He groaned. He shouldn’t have brought the hat with him. She wouldn’t be insecure about where he’d gotten it. She wasn’t like that. Red knew who she was. And never settled. Still, it was weird, carrying around a dead girl’s hat in his pocket. He needed to turn it in already.

“Should I even ask?”

He stuffed it back in his pocket.

“Take me! So we can make fun of all the rich, stuffy people. Otherwise, you’ll go but not have any fun.”

He set her down on her tiptoes and she laced her arm around his. They walked in silence until the sun was an ember on the horizon. He loved that about her. How she gave him time to think. He knew what he wanted to do: make her happy. But it was a risk.

“Are you scared of these people?” She grabbed his jaw and made him look her square in the eyes. Insistence glinted in her sandy brown eyes, where he imagined he saw his true reflection.

“We’ll need to get you a dress.”