As the boat leaves Balthazar Island I take one long last look, my heart breaking. It is like a green jewel in the middle of the azure sea. I will never see it again.
The boat takes me back to the marina that I had first arrived in. The boatman does not say goodbye. His face is unreadable. He must know what I have done.
I climb out of the boat and make my way to a low wall nearby. I sit on it. I have nowhere else to go.
I never asked her how to get home. All I have is small bag of things that she had packed for me. She must have known already that I would leave.
I wonder if Tyler and Dane will search for me. After they read my note, they will not bother.
My head sinks into my hands. I take deep breaths, determined not to cry. There are people nearby, and I don’t want them to see.
“Lola?” says an incredulous voice.
I look up. My eyes open wide. “Sofia?”
She lets out a laugh of delight. “What are you doing here?” Her joy turns to concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She puts her arm around me, and the torrent of tears inside me threatens to break loose. I hold them in, scared that if I cry I will never stop.
“What happened, Lola?”
“I don’t feel well,” I say, too exhausted to explain.
“Come with me,” she says, putting her hand around my waist to support me.
She takes me to a car. She gives the driver some quiet instructions. We sit in the back seat, and I rest my head on her shoulder.
I’m too tired to be surprised that she is here. Nothing make sense anymore, so everything seems to make sense. It does not surprise me when she takes me into a grand building. I vaguely notice it is beyond beautiful. All I want to do is sleep. She takes me to her room, closes the curtains, and leaves me to rest.
When I awaken, she tells me that I have slept a whole day and a whole night. That healers had coming to tend to me. She makes me drink a potion that they have left. I feel much better afterwards, and yet my heart is so heavy that I wish that I did not.
She sits on the bed, and takes my hand. She looks worried.
“I’m okay, really,” I say, trying to brighten my tone. “What are you doing here, Sofia?”
“I found my mother. She lives here.”
“In Otherworld?”
She twists her fingers in her lap. “I never told you that my mother was otherkind,” she says, almost defensively. “I was scared of being judged.”
I nod, too tired to be surprised.
“After Jenna and Clara came here to Otherworld,” she says, mentioning our two best friends who had recently come here and found the loves of their lives, “I got this twisted up feeling inside. I wanted to find out who I was, and where I came from.”
I nod, trying to show my support.
“It’s incredible here,” she says, excitement seeping into her voice. “I feel like I’ve come home. And the strangest thing has happened. My mother… She wants me to be betrothed.”
I look up sharply, my numbness suddenly gone.
“What do you mean?” I demand.
“There’s this prince,” she says, blushing. “A prince of the angelli. There’s going to be a ceremony, and he’s going to choose a bride. And my mother thought…”
“The angelli?” I ask sharply. “You’re an angelus?”
It feels like a blow in the gut. I feel almost jealous. Dane grew up among the angelli, and now this?
But why is it even a surprise to me? With her striking red hair and her sparkling blue eyes, Sofia had always been stunning.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not an angelus. But that’s the point. My mother is a succubus. People are saying the prince wants to choose a bride from a different people to his. He wants to build alliances. My mother wanted to put me forward from our family.”
“How can you even think about it?” I ask hotly. “Your mother shouldn’t even be asking this of you. How can she play with your emotions like this?”
“It’s not like that. She said if he did choose me, and if I did like him, then it’s a perfectly normal thing to do here. I’m not even a full succubus. He probably won’t choose me.”
“Don’t do it Sofia. I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s not worth it.” I end up sobbing out the last part.
I bury my face in my hands. She wraps her arms around me, and holds me while I cry. I tell her everything.
“Oh Lola, I’m so sorry,” she says.
We sit silently for a long time afterwards. A sudden growl from my stomach makes us inadvertently giggle. We let go of each other.
“Why don’t we go for lunch?” she says.
I shake my head. “I can’t face it. “
“Okay,” she says, readily agreeing. “I’ll go and get us something to eat.”
She keeps me company through lunch and into the evening. She pleads with me to come and join her family for dinner. I refuse. Feeling guilty for keeping her here when she is so eager to explore this new world of hers, I urge her to go and join them.
Several days pass with me hiding out in her room. It suits me. I don’t want to face the world. Finally she persuades me, late in the evening one day, to go out for some air.
We walk arm in arm down long corridors and out to a beautiful garden. When I look at the building we have come out of, I am startled to see a sprawling white-marble palace.
“It’s the prince’s palace,” she tells me. “Many families have been invited to come here before the bride-choosing ceremony.”
My mouth drops open. This was where Geoffre Balthazar had planned to carry out his massacre. Sofia would have died too.
Feeling agitated, I rush to finish our walk. After a single loop around one section of a flower garden, I insist on going back to the room.
That night I have trouble sleeping. The next day I awake at noon.
I feel embarrassed about having been such a recluse. Her family must have been asking about me. It is so rude of me to be staying here, a guest in place that is not even their home, without even having said hello to them.
I have to leave Otherworld soon, like the oracle wanted. But I have a feeling Sofia wants me to stay for the bride-choosing ceremony. I am the only person that she really knows here, the only person she can truly confide in. After everything she has done for me, how can I say no?
It must have been difficult for her to look after me while managing her new family’s expectations. I’ve been thinking only of myself, and she hasn’t even complained once. It is time for me to think of her now.
Sofia returns to the room as if she had known when I would awake. She is so excited when I tell her that I will join her family for lunch that I feel ashamed of myself.
She lends me one of her pretty summer dresses. When I look in the mirror, I see dark circles beneath my eyes. I cover them with makeup, and paste a smile on my face.
Lunch is being served in a terrace beside the gardens. I find Sofia’s family situation more complicated than expected. Her mother, aunts and several cousins are at a large table.
It seems most of the young female cousins are eager to be chosen as the prince’s bride. Their snide comments to each other are almost too subtle for me to notice.
The family politics are intimidating, and my mind is too distracted to be able to make much conversation. I am dismayed to find Sofia’s mother cold and unfriendly. Sofia whispers to me that her mother has been having a difficult time.
Things only get more awkward when Sofia’s three very handsome step-brothers arrive. I find them pleasant to talk to, but Sofia blushes whenever they look at her. Her sudden quietness in their presence disconcerts me.
I sit through the meal in a daze, barely able to eat. It seems incredible to me that a few days ago I was so happy it seemed that misery couldn’t possibly exist in the world. And now I am so miserable that happiness seems like a vivid dream from which I have awoken and to which I can never return.
I vaguely become aware of an excited buzz of voices coming from the far end of the terrace. Sofia turns to look.
“It must be the Cerciis family,” she whispers to me. “The prince’s family. They don’t usually join us for lunch.”
I give her a bright smile, trying to be excited for her. I look in the direction of the noise, dutifully trying to get a glimpse of this prince that her mother wants her to marry.
Several tall young men are among the group of people who have arrived, including one I never expected to see again. I recognize him instantly, even from afar. He stares at me coldly, his blue eyes blazing with anger.
