Even Governor Dragna looked stunned by Legend’s confessed identity. However, the count did not look entirely surprised. He merely cocked his head.

“I don’t believe you,” Tella said.

“Would you like me to perform a magic trick to prove I’m really him?”

“That’s not what I don’t believe. You said you loved me,” Tella said. “All those things you told me—”

“I lied,” Legend answered flatly. And there was something about the flatness. As if Tella didn’t even matter enough to hate.

“But … but …“Tella sputtered, the spell Legend cast upon her finally breaking. If she were made of porcelain—as Scarlett often thought—Tella would have shattered. But she just kept stepping back. Closer and closer to that dangerous edge of the balcony.

“Tella, stop!” Scarlett yelled. “You’re almost at the rim.”

“I’m not stopping until you step away from her.” Tella shot a pointed look at her father and the count. “If either of you take another step toward my sister, I swear I’ll jump. And, Father, you know if you don’t have me, you’ll never be able to control Scarlett. Even if you have her, you won’t make this marriage happen.”

The governor and the count stopped moving, but Tella continued backing up, silver slippers sliding all the way to the edge of the balcony.

“Tella, stop!” Scarlett fought to free herself from the rope, beads breaking off her dress as she thrashed against the chair. This couldn’t be happening. Not after watching Julian die. She couldn’t lose Tella like this. “You’re getting too close to the edge!”

“It’s a little late for that.” Tella laughed, a brittle sound, as breakable as she looked. Scarlett wanted to run to her, to grab hold of her where she tottered on the balcony’s rim. But the rope wasn’t loose enough yet. Her ankles had managed to kick free, but her arms were still bound. Only the stars watched in sympathy as she rocked back and forth, hoping that if she knocked over the chair she’d smash one of its arms and finally break loose.

“Donatella, it’s all right,” her father said, almost tenderly. “You can still come home with me. I’ll forgive you. Both you and your sister.”

“You expect me to believe that?!” Tella exploded. “You’re a liar, and worse than he is!” She pointed a shaky finger at Legend. “All of you are liars!”

“Tella, I’m not.” With a crash Scarlett’s chair hit the floor, one of its arms splintering, so that she could finally crawl out of the ropes and start for the ledge.

“Stay back, Scar!” Tella moved one foot so her heel was over the rim.

Scarlett froze.

“Tella, please—” Scarlett took another tentative step, but when Tella wobbled, she froze again, terrified one false move would push her sister over the very edge she so badly wanted to rescue her from.

“Please, trust me.” Scarlett held out a hand. No longer stained in blood, she hoped she could save Tella in the way she hadn’t been able to save Julian in the tunnels. “I will find a way to take care of you. I love you so much.”

“Oh, Scar,” Tella said. Tears streamed down her pink cheeks. “I love you, too. And I wish I was strong like you. Strong enough to hope it could be better, but I can’t do this anymore.” Tella’s hazel eyes met Scarlett’s, as sad as fresh-cut wood. Then she closed them, as if Tella couldn’t bear to look at her. “I meant it when I said I’d rather die at the edge of the world than live a miserable life on Trisda. I’m so sorry.”

With trembling fingers, Tella blew her sister a kiss.

“Don’t—”

Tella stepped off the edge of the balcony.

“No!” Scarlett wailed, watching as her sister plummeted into the night.

With no wings to fly her down, she fell to her death.

Scarlett would only remember fragments and pieces of what happened next. She would not remember how Tella had looked like a doll, knocked from a very high shelf, until the blood started pooling around her.

Even then Scarlett couldn’t look away from her sister’s lifeless body. She just kept wishing. Wishing Tella would move. Wishing Tella would get up and walk. Wishing for a clock that could turn back time and give Scarlett one last chance to save her.

Scarlett remembered the time-twisting pocket watch she’d seen her first day there. If only Julian had stolen that watch instead.

But Julian was dead too.

Scarlett choked on a sob. She’d lost both of them. Scarlett cried until her eyes and her chest and parts of her body she didn’t know could hurt began to ache.

The count stepped closer, as if to offer some form of consolation.

“Stop.” Scarlett held out a shaking hand. “Please.” She choked on the word, but she couldn’t bear anyone’s comfort, especially not his.

“Scarlett,” said her father. He approached her as the count backed away. Or rather, her father shuffled. Hunched over, as if an invisible pack were tied to his back, and for the first time Scarlett didn’t see a monster but rather just a sad, old bully. She saw how his fair hair had grayed at the edges, and his eyes were shot with blood. A dragon with no fire and broken wings. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” Scarlett cut him off; he deserved this. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to hear your voice, and I don’t want you to try to ease your conscience by apologizing. You brought this about. You drove her to this place.”