I shouldn’t be doing this. The deception, the lying, all of it is wrong. And yet, I can’t stop even though the greatest gift I can give Madeleine is her freedom.
And Zig is dense. He’s sent me dozens of texts over the past two days about missing me, and I’ve given him only one- and two-word responses. And even though Natalie all but told him to get me under control, he seemed unfazed by my flirting with Ian.
It’s seemingly impossible to rid myself of him.
With a heavy heart, I yank a brush through the tangles in my hair until it falls just right over my shoulders. The dark-eyed girl staring back at me in the mirror may be me, but she isn’t the innocent girl I once was. No. She’s hardened, cruel, and selfish.
I fling the brush across the room. “What am I supposed to do?” I say out loud in the empty room. “How can I make everything right?”
It’s too late to tell Madeleine the truth. And what is the truth? That I am sabotaging her? That I can’t bear the thought of her leaving me? That I don’t want her to be happy?
I swipe a slick of red lipstick over my lips and blot them on tissue. Henri tried to give me away, but, thankfully, Madeleine believed my lies about Ian.
Courtly games indeed.
The best thing to do is go to Zig’s party, flirt more with Ian, and maybe fight with Natalie. If I make a scene, Zig will hate me, and this won’t be a problem.
I had hoped that by lying to Madeleine about Ian, she’d understand the position she’s always putting me in when she finds these boys, but instead she seems excited for me. She even suggested that I lie to Henri and keep sneaking around with Ian. When she wouldn’t stop badgering me, I told her Ian was meeting me at Bix, and I would definitively end things.
My lies, like my hair, are becoming too tangled.
“What are you doing, my love?” Henri slinks into the empty dressing room and closes the door. “Why are you throwing things? Don’t you have a birthday party to attend?”
I don’t bother to turn around and instead speak to his reflection in the mirror. “You tried to give me away.”
Henri nods. “I planted a seed; how you water it is up to you.”
I inhale and exhale deeply. “Why can’t you let things be as they are?”
“Is Madeleine worth this trouble?” Henri drops into the chair next to me. His tense, muscular body betrays his calm words. “And how many more times will you lie to her?”
I turn away from the mirror and address Henri directly. “I want her to be happy, not dead.”
Henri steeples his fingers together and taps his pointer fingers. “You’re going to break Madeleine’s heart one way or another.”
“What do you mean? She has the solo, and she’s nearly forgotten about Zig already.”
“Perhaps Zig has fallen in love with the wrong girl.” Henri sizes me up. “Perhaps he’ll declare his love for you and break your enchantment.”
“No one has ever loved me as you do, Henri.” I clench my jaw. “We both know there is no way for me to break the enchantment.”
“That does appear to be true. But”—Henri holds up his hand—“if Madeleine catches you with Zig, it will destroy her, and her debut is in two days. It would be a shame if she were distracted.”
I stand in front of Henri. “There’s a second scenario, the best one: she never learns of my deception, and Zig disappears.”
Henri wraps his arm around my thigh and pulls me to him. The metallic scent of his magic spirals around us, but I don’t fear it. “Do not believe that she will forgive you if she discovers the truth.” He releases me, and I stagger backward. “You’ll spend eternity with someone who is bitter and angry with you, and she’ll hardly be the friend she is now.”
Was this his plan all along? Henri is so much better at this game than me. He wants to make Madeleine hate me so that I beg him to set her free. After all, he doesn’t need Zig to fall in love with me when he can free Madeleine on his own. No, Henri wants to punish me for wrongs long passed.
“You will tell her nothing more.” I grasp his chin between my thumb and index finger. “Henri. Promise you will not interfere again.”
“I don’t need to. You’ve already made a mess of things.”
A dull flatness settles into my heart. “I’m not going to go to the party. I’ll tell Madeleine the truth, and she’ll understand.” My voice shakes. “She can decide if she wants to see Zig again.”
“Just as she will understand that you, not I, are the reason she’s enchanted.”
My breath lodges in my chest. “You wouldn’t.”
“Hmmm.” Henri stands up, dwarfing me. “You will go to this party because I am telling you to.” He holds up his finger. “And you will betray Madeleine because, after all these years, you are an expert at it.”
His dagger-sharp words tear at my heart. I am a traitor. I always have been, and if Madeleine stays with me, I always will be.
“It’s time for you to leave.” Henri points at a neatly wrapped gift near my cubby. “As you can see, I’ve done some birthday shopping. He will like it.”
“Henri . . .”
“Yes.”
“Why are we like this? Why must we imprison the ones we love?”
“Is that what you think I’ve done? Imprison you?” He hovers near me. “I’ve given you a gift most people would die for: immortality. Think of all the history you’ve experienced and the wonders you’ve seen. The Revolution. Manet, Monet, and Renoir. The building of the Eiffel Tower. You, Lucie, have seen all of this.”
“And yet, in my heart, I know it’s wrong.”
“The pursuit of love is never wrong.”
My guilt eats at my conscious. “I need to tell Madeleine the truth. About everything.”
Henri smiles. “Yes. Why don’t you? I won’t stop you.” When I refuse to meet his eyes, he laughs. “You can’t. Why is that?”
“Because I love her,” I answer quietly.
“Ah, yes,” Henri says. “Love makes us do strange things.”
Bix isn’t far from my stop, and the light drizzle falling from the gray sky doesn’t bother me. I like when Paris is sleepy like this, and the only people who are out hurry between destinations. Tonight, I take my time and weigh my options concerning Zig with each heavy step. If I do the not-right right-thing, I’d flirt with Ian, upset Zig, and possibly enrage Natalie. But it would end things between Zig and me, and Madeleine would be none the wiser. If I do the right right-thing, I wouldn’t show up, and I’d let Zig find Madeleine after one of her performances. She’d discover my deception, but she’d have a chance at a real life.
A crowd has already formed inside Bix when I arrive, and I scan the room for familiar faces. Natalie and Sam sit at a high-top table, subtly nodding at people and laughing. I detour away from them, toward the back, and spot Ian with a drink in hand, talking to an older couple. The woman has light-brown hair with highlights, and the man is wholly unremarkable aside from the heavy-rimmed, dark glasses perched on his nose.
The woman laughs, and Ian beams. Maybe, in another life, I would have found him attractive. After all, he is physically appealing, but I’ve been around enough well-bred men to know his charms only stretch so far.
“Hello, beautiful Madeleine.” Zig’s voice tickles my ear, and his warm breath washes down the side of my face. He presses his stomach against my back and pulls me tightly to him. “I’ve missed you.”
Nothing prepared me for the absolute mess of knots forming in my stomach. I can do this. I can make a horrible scene and be done with this mess.
“Ready to meet all the people I barely know?” Zig asks.
“Is Ian here?” I turn my head up and back slightly to see his face. His golden-hazel eyes sparkle under the bright café lights. “Or your parents?”
Zig releases me, but the warmth of his touch lingers. “Or we could run away and forget about all of this.”
“Sounds lovely, but—”
“Hi, Madeleine.” Maria appears at Zig’s elbow. “I didn’t expect you, since your ballet opens tomorrow night.”
Have I spent so much time obsessing over my guilt that I forgot Lilah opens tomorrow? “We always give our bodies a break the night before opening,” I lie. “Rest days are important.” Actually, Madeleine and the corps are rehearsing and consumed by pre-opening busyness.
“Lucky you,” Maria says with a sharp edge to her voice. Since the first day we met, her friendliness has eroded until her true jealous streak has exposed itself. Maria likes Zig. And Zig likes me. Which means I am not Maria’s favorite person.
I hold out the bag with Zig’s present tucked inside. “For you.”
“Thanks.” He loops the bag with the gift over his left wrist and takes my hand. “Want to meet my parents?”
“Of course.”
Zig points across the room toward the back of the square-shaped bar at the two adults Ian is still speaking with. “That’s them.” He squeezes my hand. “Ready?”
“I hope they like me.” I smile to ease Zig’s nerves.
More teenagers have packed into the café, and soon we’re surrounded by people wishing Zig a happy birthday. On the other side of the bar, Zig’s parents wave at us, and Ian’s face lights up.
“They’re really chill,” Zig says as we wind our way toward them. “They’ll like you.”
As we near, Ian steps forward. “Madeleine! Hello!” He plants three kisses on my cheeks, and I return the favor. “Maria thought you’d be too busy to come.”
Now is the moment to humiliate Zig. If I flirt with Ian in front of Zig’s parents, Zig will be humiliated, and Madeleine and I will go on as always. And yet I can’t do it.
I smile at Mr. and Mrs. Young and Ian. “Zig’s eighteenth birthday is too important to miss.”
Mr. Young offers his hand first. “Hello, Madeleine. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
My cheeks flame hot. “I don’t know what Zig has said, but I am sure it’s not all true.”
“Zig is many things, but he doesn’t exaggerate.” Mrs. Young’s French is delightful and excellent, and I struggle to hide my shock.
“Yeah,” Zig says with a laugh. “I didn’t inherit Mom’s language skills.”
We make small talk in English about Paris and the weather before Mrs. Young says, “Zig tells me you are dancing your first solo tomorrow.”
The crowded café roars with the laughter of teenagers. “I am.”
She studies me a moment. “Aren’t you on the young side to be a soloist? You must be incredibly talented.”
It takes me a second to understand what she’s actually asking. “I’m seventeen, and yes that is young, but I auditioned like everyone else.”
Mr. Young lifts a drink off the bar and hands it to Mrs. Young. “Here you go, hon.”
Her kind smile reminds me of Zig. “I must admit, Madeleine, I am impressed.” She leans closer to me and laughs. “I love my son, but Zig is punching above his pay grade with you.”
“Hi, I’m Maria. One of Zig’s classmates.” Maria pushes past me and into our circle.
Zig’s parents exchange pleasantries with her, but the conversation comes to a screeching halt.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Mrs. Young says. “Have fun. Dad and I are going up to the apartment. Call if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
“And Zig?”
“Yeah?”
She grins, her eyes wide. “Tell Madeleine about your birthday surprise.”
That piques my curiosity, but I pretend to not have heard. The crowd around us churns with high schoolers, some of whom look to be about only sixteen. At a nearby table, Natalie, Sam, and Maria huddle together while Ian regales them with an animated tale.
“Should we join them?” I ask. I missed my opportunity to embarrass Zig in front of his parents, but maybe I can do it around his friends?
“Sure.” Zig motions to his friends. The gift Henri bought is still looped over Zig’s wrist, and when we arrive at the table, he places it on top and promptly forgets about it. I, however, am curious about what Henri has chosen.
As the drinks flow, the party gets rowdier, and it becomes impossible to talk without shouting.
“Let’s go outside,” he shouts and points to the patio door.
They grab their coats and hats and follow us to the patio. The frigid air licks my skin and steals my breath. “I didn’t realize it would be this cold tonight.”
Three stand heaters line the area nearest the patio gate. Ian points at them. “Let’s get those turned on, shall we?”
Zig and Ian drag the heaters into a triangle shape around a table where Maria, Natalie and I wait. After they turn on the heaters, we huddle around the table. This is my moment. I should flirt with Ian and humiliate Zig. It would be so easy—especially since Ian is receptive to my flirting.
But as we crowd under the heaters, guilt builds in my heart. This could be Madeleine’s life if I let it be. She could have a group of friends and a boyfriend. She could worry about who was flirting with who and not whether she angered a sorcerer who arbitrarily punishes her to hurt me.
And she’d be happier—maybe even happier than if she stays with me.
“Hey,” Maria says. “You haven’t opened Madeleine’s gift.”
Even though I’m curious, I’m also worried about what Henri has chosen.
“You don’t have to right now,” I say.
Zig plucks the beautifully wrapped, rectangular box from the bag and shakes it next to his ear. “Hmmm . . .”
“It’s a small thing. Really, it can wait.”
Zig winks at me and lifts the gift off the table. My pulse races as he tears open the wrapping paper. When he lifts the lid, a handsome pair of very expensive black leather gloves lay in the box.
“Your hands are always cold,” I say, trying to sound like I knew what the gift was.
“They’re great.” Zig puts them on. “And they fit perfectly.”
Natalie and Maria exchange amused glances. I guess gloves aren’t what you give your boyfriend?
“Zig,” I say, hoping to take the focus off my lackluster gift. “What did your parents gift you? Your mom said to tell me.”
“Oh, right!” He flashes me a smile. “What are you guys—not you Madeleine, I know where you’ll be—doing tomorrow night? My parents got me four tickets for Madeleine’s ballet, and I thought I’d invite the three of you.”
“I love the ballet,” Natalie squeals. “I wanted to be a dancer when I was younger but don’t have the body for it.” She looks at me almost apologetically.
Maria claps her hands together. “I was going to get tickets for us, but this is great. Sounds fun.”
Ian rolls his wine glass between his gloved fingers. “Sure, mate, whatever the girls want.”
And that will be that. Zig and his friends will come to the Ballet, and he’ll probably wait for her. I won’t be able to control the situation, and Madeleine will discover my betrayal.
Now is my moment. Do I embarrass Zig or let things unfold as they will? It would be so easy to kiss Ian in front of everyone. If I do that, Zig won’t be able to dismiss my behavior. But I gasp like a fish on land, unable to draw a breath. My body is paralyzed. Why can’t I be nasty and mean to Zig? Why can’t I ruin his dreams of being with Madeleine?
“Hey, are you okay?” Maria shakes my arm. “Can you breathe?”
My bad situation has become a nightmare. What am I going to do? “It’s nerves,” I stammer. “That’s all.”
“You need more champagne.” Ian refills my glass. “But not too much. We don’t want our star dancer to be hungover tomorrow.”
I wave my hand over my glass. “No. I can’t.” I fish my phone from my coat pocket and stare blankly at the screen. “I need to go.”
“What?” Zig wrinkles his brow. “It’s early.”
I shove away from the table. “Not when I have a strenuous performance tomorrow.” I need to get out of here, and I need a place to think. “Plus,” I sniffle, “the cold air is making me feel congested. I can’t dance if I have a cold.”
A semi-formed plan takes shape in my mind. I’ll intercept them before they go in to the Opéra and pretend the understudy has my role due to me having a cold. Then, I’ll suggest we go somewhere across town. I’ll slip out after Madeleine gets her makeup done, and she’ll think I’ve gone to the audience to watch. It will work . . . for now.
“Can I walk you to the station?” Zig asks.
I shake my head. “You can’t leave your party.”
“Madeleine, the only people here who have paid any attention to me all night are at this table.” He glances at his classmates. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”
“Sure thing.” Ian sips his champagne. “We have to finish this.”
I rest my hand on Zig’s arm. “It’s fine. I walk alone all the time.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He lifts my chin, and I brace for the kiss that I should be giving to Ian.
“What are you doing!”
I jump away from Zig and bang into the table, toppling a few glasses and the champagne bottle over. There’s a blur of noise as Zig’s friends try to clean up, but my focus is on Madeleine. The wind whips the ends of her hair around her face, and her eyes flash in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt.
She scans the table before settling her enraged eyes on me. “I finished early, and you said you were meeting Ian at Bix. I thought I’d join you.” Her face is flushed red. “But you’re kissing Zig?”
“Madeleine! It’s not . . . I can explain.” Words rush from me as I knock over a chair in my haste to reach her.
“How could you?” she cries. “How could you do this to me?”
I hold up my hand. “Please, listen, please.”
Behind me, Maria says, “They look exactly alike. Are they twins?”
I frantically point at Ian. “That’s Ian. The boy I told you about. The one I’m crazy about.”
Now the voices behind me grow louder, and Zig grabs my arm. “What the hell is going on? You have a twin?”
Madeleine points her finger at me. “That deceitful, betraying bitch is Lucie.” She clasps her hands over her chest. “I’m Madeleine Beauvais. I’m the girl who took you to Sacré-Cœur and taught you about crêpes. Me.”
“This is like a badly scripted soap opera.” Natalie chortles in delight.
The world spins around me. The worst possible scenario has happened, and I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t go to Madeleine.
“Do not ever, not ever, speak to me again!” She flees down the cobblestone rue.
Air rushes into my lungs, and I swing the gate separating the patio from the sidewalk open. “Madeleine! Wait!”
“Bloody hell, Zig. Madeleine’s a twin, and you didn’t know?” Ian asks.
Behind me, Zig answers, “I literally have no idea what’s happening.”
“Well, I think you better figure it out so you know which one you’re dating.”
I don’t hear the rest of the conversation. I dart after Madeleine and pray she’ll listen to whatever nonsensical explanation I come up with.
But in my heart, I know it’s all ruined: our lives, our friendship, our trust.
How could I be so selfish?