A knock interrupted her as Remy put the final touches on her appearance. Once again, Pam entered without being beckoned.
"I'm supposed to fetch you and bring you to the main dining hall," she informed her. "You are ready, are you not?"
"Just about," Remy said, looking at herself one last time in the mirror. "You know, Pam, if I had known I was going to be a guest of honor at a Masquerade, I would have brought my jewelry from home. My neck and my ears feel bare without something."
Pam rolled her eyes and Remy took her hand. "Come now, Pam," she said, resting her hands on the skirt of her dress. "Just because The Magistrate treats you like a dog does not mean you must act like one."
Pam opened her mouth to say something in response to Remy's comment but Remy brushed past her quickly, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Let's go," she said, her voice shaky as she continued to hold her humor inside of her. "We do not wish to keep anyone waiting."
Pam narrowed her eyes, shut her mouth, and led Remy to the main dining hall.
Though Remy had been through the manor many times over since The Magistrate brought her here, she could not help but stop her walking due to the sight of the dining hall. In fact, her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. She knew she was supposed to act cool and collected, but she could not help be awed by this beauty. Not even her debut had been this grand, and her mother had not spared any expense.
Lights were high and almost blinding, reflecting off the glass chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. There were decorations on the walls, silver bows to offset the beige walls, with streams of ribbon connecting each bow together. Servants wore different uniforms – a sea green color tailored to their form perfectly – and pour wine from a silver jug. The long table was clothed in pure white, with grey napkins folded into intricate designs. Each place received a plate, various silverware, and three wine glasses for each course. Crimson candlesticks took place in the center of the table, each a foot away from the other. Flames were already emitting from the sticks, and if Remy closed her eyes, she would be able to smell the cinnamon aroma that gently touched the air. It reminded her of Christmas, truth be told, and the reminder caused a subtle twinge of longing for her old life to tighten her heart. But only slightly.
There was no one present at the dining table, at least not yet. Pam yanked her arm to keep her moving, and before Remy could control herself, she shot Pam an annoyed look. This pleased Pam and she smirked.
“The Magistrate believes in a superstition where the guest of honor must enter the dining room first in order to claim her seat,” Pam explained.
“And where is my seat?” Remy asked, trying to control the anger from spilling out into her voice.
“Why, the head of the table, of course,” Pam said, gesturing to the seat with a sweep of her arm. “Just joking. Like you could ever fill that position. You will sit to the right of the head of the table.”
Remy clenched her teeth. Attention was not preferable to her plan but she could not argue. As such, she walked over to the seat and slid into it as gracefully as she could muster. Immediately, a servant was at her side, pouring her a glass of wine. From the corner of her eye, Remy watched Pam turn and leave.
“Pam,” she called, craning her neck to get a look at the girl. “Where are you going?”
“I am leaving you, mum,” she said. “You should know the servants never eat with the guests.”
Remy could not tell if Pam was being snide or not, but she did not wish to be left alone, even if that meant Pam was her only company. However, Pam walked away without so much as looking over her shoulder at Remy. When Pam finally disappeared, Remy clenched her teeth and tried to keep a look of passive indifference on her face. She could do this. She just needed to stay focused, stay sure.
“Nervous?”
Remy’s head snapped up, and there, in front of her, stood The Magistrate. She wore an elegant gold dress that clutched her body and refused to let go. It was so revealing, Remy felt her cheeks turn pink at the sight of it, as though she should not look upon such an intimate sight. It triggered this long, built-in shame reflex she did not remember she had.
“I can hear your heartbeat from here, you know,” The Magistrate said, slinking into her seat the way a snake would. Somehow, they had a long table in between them but Remy was able to hear The Magistrate’s voice clear as day, and The Magistrate was not even yelling. “Obviously, you are nervous. I’m curious as to why.” She cocked her head to the side, narrowing her dark eyes at Remy. “It could be because you’re going to see your precious Captain Hook after being apart from him months on end. It could be you aren’t sure what expect from these people you once called friends. Or, it could be something entirely different. It could be you have something up your sleeve.”
Without warning, The Magistrate threw something so quickly at Remy, Remy had no time to even blink let alone move out of the way. Luckily, she did not even have to. She felt the ripples of the current of motion flow past her until she heard the splinter of the wood behind her. A sharp knife stuck in the wall behind Remy, missing her by a ghost of a breath, and wiggling back and forth almost like a dog wagged his tail.
“You cross me, Remy, and the next blade goes straight through your eye,” The Magistrate said. “And your precious Hook won’t be able to save you.”
“I’m surprised your aim is sound,” Remy said, though her voice tremored. “Don’t you usually have people threatening and killing on your behalf?”
The Magistrate smirked. “Still feisty, I see, even in the realm of death,” she said. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“That makes one of us,” Remy said. “Not that this is any of your business, but if I did have something up my sleeve – which I do not; I am a woman of my word, after all – James would not be involved. I would ensure I could handle myself.”
The Magistrate nodded once in approval. “It’s almost a shame,” she said. “You would make a good challenge if you did not have such an obvious weakness.” She leaned forward, her neckline plunging even further, her eyes locked on Remy’s. “You would make a good ally if you weren’t so goddamn loyal.”
“I would never partner with you,” Remy said, narrowing her eyes.
The Magistrate smiled like a serpent. “I like how you believe you would even have a choice,” she said. “You forget, child, you are partnering with me now. By agreeing to my terms, by agreeing to take over Nick’s place and transport the souls you collect to me rather than to where they need to go is rescinding your independence. You did interview Peter Pan, did you not? And you found his answers to be honest, correct?” She pushed her brow up as a way to emphasize her point.
Remy wanted to slap the smug smirk off her pretty face.
“I like you, Remy Cutler,” The Magistrate said with a smile that was surprisingly genuine. “I like you a lot. I hope, in time, you will come to like me as well.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Remy muttered under her breath.
“I never do.”
At that moment, Remy heard footsteps echoing off the sleek wooden floor. Without consciously realizing it, her shoulders rolled back and her chin tilted up and she swallowed, hoping to slow the pounding of her heart. The anticipation rushed to her all at once; she would see James soon. She was going to see him in a manner of moments. She was going to see him…
Now.
Her breath left her as she watched him stride into the room, followed by Nick and Magda. However, Remy’s eyes were solely focused on James. He wore a masculine mask that covered the top half of his face, a creamy white color that matched the white breeches and coat her wore. His blond hair was slicked back and those blue eyes were ice. His skin was still pale – she had no idea how a pirate was able to retain pale white skin, even with the sun beating down on him day after day; perhaps it had something to do with his Viking blood – but he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her heart burst with emotion; she could not believe h
ow much she missed him until she felt it. Until she saw him again.
His eyes somehow found her the minute he walked into the room. He did not even have to look. His eyes looked her up and down – first, to make sure she was not harmed in any way; then, to take the sight of her in. She felt her stomach squirm under his scrutiny. It was the last thing that should have been on her mind but she hoped she looked pleasing to him, especially since they had not seen each other in a long while.
When he was finished and his eyes met hers once more, he gave her a soft smile.
“Nice to see you breathing,” Nick commented. Remy noticed he had one hand one Magdalena’s back – a gesture both intimate and comfortable. Remy made note of it and slipped it into her mind for later. Magda, on the other hand, seemed tense and guarded – which was not all that different from her typical personality, Remy mused dryly.
“Are you hurt?” James asked, his voice tightly controlled.
Just looking at him, Remy knew he wanted to say more. But he was guarding his emotions, not because he did not want her to see, but because he did not want everyone else to see. She did not like it but she understood. Yet, even he could not keep those crystal blue eyes from revealing that somewhere inside of him, he cared about her. Deeply. Her heart throbbed as she took it in and she wished more than anything she could wrap him up in her arms and have him whisper that everything was going to be okay over and over again.
But even Remy knew that was asking for too much. They had not even spoken of these feelings they supposedly had for one another. Perhaps she was seeing things that weren’t there. Perhaps she was allowing hope to get the better of her.
“I am not hurt,” she assured him, making a point to lock eyes with him so he could read her face and know she was telling the truth.
He clenched his jaw and she saw a flash of relief litter his blue irises for just a moment, vanishing so quickly she questioned if it had been there at all. But one look at him, and she knew. She knew.
The three guests all took their seat. James sat next to Remy while Magda and Nick sat across from them. The head of the table was empty, a place only The Magistrate could fill. The seat directly across from The Magistrate was empty as well. That seat would house The Creator, if and when that entity made their grand appearance.
Remy knew nothing of The Creator, save it was The Neverland’s version of God. She did not know if The Creator was good or bad or both, all powerful or weak, a god or a man. All she knew was The Creator was responsible for The Paradise and created the realm known as The Neverland. He (or she, since Remy was still uncertain of this person’s (God’s?) gender – if they had a gender at all) had yet to appear. But Remy was starting to suspect that that was normal.
“I see we are all here,” The Magistrate said, making her grand appearance from the entranceway to the dining room. Remy rolled her eyes inwardly at The Magistrate’s dramatics, disappearing in order to male an entrance. Her hips slinked back and forth, and it was hard not to stare at her. She was both sensual and graceful and Remy found herself entranced just like everyone else.
“The Creator is not,” James pointed out. Remy made a mental note that James avoided looking at The Magistrate. Probably for good reason.
“You know The Creator, James,” The Magistrate said, shooting him a painted smile. “She will not show up until later. For now, the fun can officially begin.”
Seventeen
Magdalena wished she could control the way her stomach reacted to the food that was placed in front of her. Hunger was a weakness, one she needed to remedy as soon as she could. She was becoming grumpier by the second, and the majority of that was due to her empty stomach. However, she could not deny that there was more to it; specifically, what had occurred between her and Nick in his bedroom hours ago. His words hand finally sunk in, and the truths in them had leeched into her body and squeezed at her heart.
It was not Nick’s fault that she had been given to James as a way to protect her sister. It was not Nick’s fault that she had been betrayed by the one person who was supposed to love her, to take care of her, and to stand by her side no matter what. But just because Nick had nothing to do with her past did not mean it had nothing to do with her present.
But it’s your responsibility to move past it, a voice in her head reminded her. If you want to move forward, you must let go of your past and embrace your present.
When Nick met her at her door in order to escort her to dinner, she noticed the way he looked at her. He was in awe of her beauty and he did not even have to say a word. The dress fit her perfectly; the girls at the tailors made sure the cut was like a second skin to her without being too uncomfortable. She could still move around in it without being inhibited by it, and the shoes on her feet comfortable. Her hair had been parted and braided and clipped up in order to pull it out of her face so it would not distract her in any way. She also happened to remember that Nick had a fondness for her bare neck, and after their tense conversation, she wanted to appease him with a subtle gesture that did not require an apology.
She wasn’t quite ready for that. Not because she was not sorry but because she could not find the right words to say in order to explain why she behaved this way and why she was sorry. And she did not want to say anything if he could not say sorry.
“You look beautiful,” Nick murmured as he offered her his arm. Just as she knew he would, his eyes were drawn to the bare column of her throat and a dark look of hunger tainted his irises as he studied her further. “Though that word is, itself, an understatement.”
Magdalena clenched her teeth together to keep from blushing, but she found she was unable to keep her face from getting hot.
“My dear Tink,” he murmured as he began leading her down the hallway. Magda could see James waiting for them by his bedroom door. “I think you’re blushing.”
Magda immediately opened her mouth to refute the claim. Instead, she stopped herself and paused. She would not react to his goading; it would be childish and just play into his hand. It would distract her from her thoughts, thoughts she probably should not be processing right at the moment. Thoughts that were dangerous and distracting.
Her stomach churned with guilt, on top of the hunger that had already made its presence known. She should be happy to see that Remy was safe and unharmed. She should be anticipating the end of all of this so she could finally return to…
To what?
Her loyalty was with James but her heart was with Nick. And if her heart was with Nick, her loyalty was with him as well. Whether or not James had it first. Whether or not James had it the longest.
But where would Nick go after this? Would he remain a ferry and transport souls through The Neverland? Would she want that life, a life that would be repetitive and monotonous, a life where she probably did not have to worry about danger, protecting herself, anything interesting occurring that would require the skills she developed under James’s watchful eyes?
Of course I would.
The thought hit her fiercely and unexpectedly. She was not the sort of woman that derived pleasure from the same occurrence, the same task, over and over again. It was why she liked combat so much; you could never battle an opponent the same way twice unless choreography was involved. Being a fairy had been boring, and she had not realized that until James had taken her away from it. Now, remaining by Nick’s side, would she be forced to experience the same drollness as before?
As long as it’s with Nick, I don’t care.
The thought rang true, like a choir singing on Sunday. Even The Neverland had their weekly worship, though The Creator was thanked in place of the God Remy and Nick knew from earth.
The real question was, the voice pointed out slowly, silently enunciating each syllable of each word precisely. Would Nick even want her in the first place?
Magda immediately furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. She did not particularly realize she must look a bit peculiar, considering she was reacting to silent thoughts
rather than a hushed discussion or inedible food. However, she could not begin to wipe the disgruntled look away, not until she sorted out her thoughts.
Even the notion that Nick would not want her company was absurd. It was insulting to Nick and to Magda herself that she would fall for the sort of man who would treat her in such a way. She shook her head and decided that she would not continue to think on this. Not right now. She refused to doubt Nick unless he deserved it, and right now, he did not deserve it.
But, the voice pointed out, that is only if he chooses to remain in The Neverland. Let’s not forget that he is alive. Perhaps that is why he was able to drink Lizzie’s blood without consequence.
Magda pressed her lips together. This was something she had not truly considered: what would happen to Nick. Currently, he was condemned to the task of ferrying souls to and from various places in The Neverland due to something that had happened on earth. It was something Magda did not know the details of and did not feel it was her place to ask. As of right now, as far as she – or anyone – was concerned, he would remain ferry, but Magda was not clear on how long that would be. He could be plucked from The Neverland and spit up back on earth and they would never even know until it already happened. They would be separated by realms, an impossibility of ever going back.
“Are you all right?” Nick asked in a whispered, leaning down so his lips caressed her ear. “You have this wrinkle between your brows I’m itching to smooth out.”
Life in Neverland: Book 3 of The Neverland Trilogy Page 12
