“Then we won’t let him catch us.” Julian wove his fingers through hers and raced with Scarlett into the golden passage on the left.

Scarlett had always liked the color gold. It felt hopeful and magical. And for a brief, shining moment she dared to dream that it was. To hope she could outrun her father, create her very own fate. And she almost did.

But she could not outrun her fiancé.

Scarlett felt his gloved hand band around her arm. A moment later her head snapped back, every piece of her scalp on fire as her father’s fists took hold of her hair.

She screamed as both men tore her away from Julian.

“Let her go!” Julian shouted.

“Don’t take another step, or this will get worse.” Governor Dragna wrapped one hand around Scarlett’s throat as he continued pulling her hair.

Scarlett bit back her yelp, a pained tear rolling down one cheek. From the twisted angle of her neck, she could not see her father, but she could imagine the sick look on his face. This would only get worse.

“Julian,” Scarlett pled, “please get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“Not another step,” Governor Dragna repeated. “Remember the last time we played this game? Do something I don’t like, and my darling daughter pays.”

Julian froze.

“Much better, but just so you don’t forget again …” Governor Dragna released Scarlett and punched her in the stomach.

Scarlett fell to her knees as the air left her lungs. Her vision blanked as she hit the dirt. She could only feel the pain, the echo of her father’s fists, and the dirt she’d fallen into staining her hands as she struggled to stand back up.

Around her, voices bounced off the walls. Angry ones and frightened ones, and when she stood, the world had changed.

“Is that really necessary?”

“Touch her again and I will—”

“I think you missed the point of my demonstration.”

One by one she matched the words with the men as she took in the new scene. The count’s well-groomed expression had shifted to something cloudy and uncertain as he helped Scarlett stand. Across from them, too far out of her reach, her father stood with a knife to Julian’s throat.

“He just won’t stay away from you,” said Governor Dragna.

“Father, stop this,” Scarlett rasped. “I’m sorry I ran away. You have me. Just let him go.”

“But if I let him go, how do I know you’ll behave?”

“I agree with your daughter,” said the count, his arm now curling around her, almost protectively. “I think this is going a little too far.”

“I’m not going to kill him.” Governor Dragna’s eyes crinkled at the edges as if they were all being unreasonable. “I’m only giving my daughter a little extra incentive not to run away again.”

A slick mud-colored feeling coated Scarlett’s insides as her father adjusted the knife. She thought nothing could be as painful as watching him hit Tella, but the blade, so close to Julian’s face, created a whole new world of terror. “Please, Father.” She trembled and shook with every word. “I promise, I’ll never disobey you again.”

“I’ve already heard that worthless vow, but after this I think you’ll finally keep it.” Governor Dragna licked the corner of his lips as he flicked his wrist.

“Don’t—”

The count clamped a gloved hand over Scarlett’s mouth, muffling her screams as her father slashed his dagger across Julian’s beautiful face. From his jaw, across his cheek, all the way up to below his eye.

Julian sucked in a cry of pain as Scarlett fought to reach him. But she was powerless to do more than kick, and she feared her father would do more damage to Julian than he already had. She’d probably shown too much emotion as it was.

Scarlett waited for Julian to fight back. To grab the knife. To run away. She remembered his rows of sharply defined brown muscles. She imagined, even bleeding and injured, he could overpower her father. But for a boy who had started out so selfish, he now seemed determined to keep his ridiculous word and stay with her. He stood stoically as a wounded statue while Scarlett crumbled inside.

“Now, I think we’re done,” said her father.

“You know”—Julian turned to the count, speaking through a bloody smile—“it’s pathetic when you have to torture a man just to get a woman to be with you.”

“Maybe I was wrong about being finished here.” Governor Dragna lifted his knife once more.

Scarlett tried to break free from the count, but his arms stayed bound around her chest, cutting into her like ropes.

“You’re not making this any better,” the count hissed. Then louder, to her father, in a tone that sounded bored, “I don’t think that’s necessary. He’s just trying to get a rise out of us.” The count smirked as if he couldn’t have cared less about Julian’s words, yet Scarlett could feel the quickening of his heart and the heat of his rapid breath against her neck, even as he added, “And for the saint’s sake, give the man a handkerchief; he’s dripping blood everywhere.”

The governor tossed Julian a tiny square of cloth, but it was barely enough to soak up the blood. Scarlett could see the droplets fall to the ground as their grim party began trudging forward.

The entire journey back to La Serpiente, Scarlett tried to think of ways to escape. Despite his wound, Julian was still strong. Scarlett imagined he could have easily run away, or at least tried to fight back. But he marched silently by her father’s side while the count clutched Scarlett’s limp hand.