28
For tonight’s ball, everyone was supposed to dress as part of a famous couple from throughout Northern history. Evangeline had been excited about the theme and the idea of dressing up until she’d found the costume that LaLa had left for her.
The dress was peasant-girl pretty, with a sweetheart neckline, puffed sleeves, and a knee-length skirt that cinched at the waist with a wide pink ribbon, which formed a cheerful bow in back. The fabric was a simple yellow eyelet, dotted with pink and white flowers and dancing foxes, which made it clear who she was supposed to be. The Fox.
Given Evangeline’s situation with Apollo, it felt a little bit morbid to be dressed as the Fox from The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox. But she tried to be optimistic. The dress was a gift from LaLa—under other circumstances, it would have been a thoughtful one. And truth be told, although it made her a little nervous, the dress did remind her of what she was there to do: break the Archer’s curse on Apollo and find the missing stones. Hopefully, she’d find the youth stone tonight. Then all she would need to find was the truth stone.
The thought recentered Evangeline as she laced up her slippers, which had come with rose-gold ribbons that tied up all the way to her calves. She then put on the mirth stone and tucked it safely into her bodice.
She doubted Jacks would approve of her wearing the stone, but it didn’t matter since she hadn’t told him about it—not yet anyway. She probably
should have mentioned it when she’d been in his room, but she hadn’t wanted him to take it and lock it up inside a box.
The stone didn’t seem to be harmful. It hadn’t made her feel reckless like the luck stone, or envious like the youth stone. If she hadn’t felt so possessive of it when Luc had tried to snatch it, she might have suspected it wasn’t magic at all.
The old clock on the fireplace mantel gently ticked closer to eight. The ball was officially beginning, but Jacks hadn’t arrived to collect her.
Evangeline worried her lip. They hadn’t actually talked about attending the ball together. So perhaps he wasn’t going to go with her. Maybe he was going to go with one of the Darling girls? She didn’t like that idea at all.
Maybe he was still asleep? He’d seemed tired when he’d found her in his bed. She imagined he’d dozed off after that, and she knew from experience how intense his sleep could be.
Evangeline decided to check on him. His room was to the left of hers, and right away, she saw that his door was already cracked.
She probably should have knocked, but her curiosity got the best of her.
She peered through the crack instead.
Jacks was awake, and he looked ready to go. Although if he was ready for the party or a battle, she couldn’t quite tell.
He wore two swords strapped to the back of a smoke-gray shirt with sleeves shoved up past his elbows. She could see the muscles in his forearms before her view was blocked by dark leather gauntlets that matched his tall boots and his low-slung belt. There were no weapons in his belt, but when her gaze drifted to the thighs of his fitted black breeches, she saw two leather straps where he’d secured a series of shining daggers.
Evangeline didn’t know who he was supposed to be, only that her heart was hammering as she watched him stand in front of the fire. In one hand he held a white apple; the other was clenched into a white-knuckled fist.
It was then she realized he wasn’t alone.
