“You really think I’d get in a bed with you? Are you mad?” A ridiculous question, because clearly he was. He continued to unbutton his shirt, and she was certain he did so only because he knew it made her uncomfortable. Or maybe he just liked showing off.

Scarlett got another glimpse of his smooth muscles as she pivoted for the door. “I’m going back down to see if she has another room.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Julian called.

“Then I’ll sleep in the hall.”

A gentleman would have protested, but Julian was not a gentleman. Something soft hit the floor. Most likely his shirt.

Scarlett reached for the glass doorknob.

“Hold on—”

A square lined with gold landed at her feet. An envelope. Her name written across the front in an elegant script.

“Found that on the bed. I’m imagining it’s your first clue.”

Scarlett’s nana used to say the world of Caraval was Master Legend’s great playground. No words were spoken that he didn’t hear. Not even a whisper could escape his ears, no shadow went unseen by his eyes. No one ever saw Legend—or if they did, they didn’t know it was him—but Legend saw all during Caraval.

Scarlett swore she felt his gaze on her as she stepped into the hall. She sensed it in the way the candlelit lanterns seemed to glow brighter, like eyes perking up, as she examined her message.

The envelope looked the same as every one Legend had sent her before, gold and cream and thick with mystery.

When she opened it, several red rose petals fell onto her palm, along with a key. Delicate green glass. Similar to the one she’d been given for her room, only this key had a number five etched into it, and attached to it was a tiny black ribbon, which held a wide slip of paper with one name: Donatella Dragna.

Scarlett knew this was supposed to be her first clue. But to her it felt more like a gift from Legend, just like the dress and the invitations to the isle. Scarlett had found it difficult to believe she was special in the clock shop, but maybe she was feeling a touch of Caraval magic, for she found herself daring to hope that Legend was indeed treating her differently, taking care of her again by showing her where her sister was. For a moment Scarlett felt as if everything was going to be right and bright.

She flew down the hall until she reached the steps to the third floor. Room five came after room eleven: a square teal door with a green glass handle that looked a bit like a giant gemstone. Gaudy and magnificent. Perfect for Tella.

Scarlett started to use her key, but the breathing on the other side of the door sounded a little too loud for Tella. A smoky-ginger prickle of discomfort crawled down Scarlett’s neck as she put her ear closer to the door.

Thud.

Something heavy dropped to the floor.

Followed by a groan.

“Tella—” Scarlett reached for the handle. “Are you all right?”

“Scarlett?” Tella’s voice sounded strained, out of breath.

“Yes! It’s me, I’m coming in!”

“No—don’t!”

Another loud thud.

“Tella, what’s going on in there?”

“Nothing—just—do not come in.”

“Tella, if there’s something wrong—”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m—just—busy—” Tella broke off.

Scarlett hesitated. Something was wrong. Tella didn’t sound like herself.

“Scarlett!” Tella’s voice rang loud and clear, as if she could see her sister reaching for the knob. “If you open that door I will never speak to you again.”

Her tone was low, and this time it was echoed by a deep voice. A young man’s voice.

“You heard your sister,” he said.

The words ricocheted through the crooked hall, hitting Scarlett like a burst of unwanted wind, reaching into all the places her clothing couldn’t protect.

She felt five different shades of berry-colored foolish as she walked away. All this time she had been worried about Tella, but obviously her sister had not been concerned about her. She probably hadn’t even thought about her. Not when she had a young man in her bed.

Scarlett shouldn’t have been surprised. Her sister had always been wilder; Tella liked the taste of trouble. But it wasn’t the wildness that hurt Scarlett. Tella was the most important person in the world to Scarlett, but it always broke Scarlett to know her sister did not feel the same way.

When their mother, Paloma, had abandoned them, all the soft parts of Scarlett’s father seemed to disappear along with her. His rules went from strict to severe, and so did the consequences for failing to obey. It would have been so different if Paloma had just stayed on Trisda. Scarlett vowed she’d never leave Tella alone the way their mother had left them. She would protect her. Even though Scarlett was only one year older, she didn’t trust anyone else to take care of her sister, and as Tella grew up, Scarlett didn’t trust Tella to take care of herself. But while she had sheltered Tella, she’d also spoiled her. Tella too often thought only of herself.

At the end of the hall, Scarlett slumped to the floor. Rough wooden boards rubbed awkwardly beneath her. It was colder on this lower level than it had been up the stairs. Or maybe she only felt chilly because of Tella’s dismissal. She’d chosen someone else over Scarlett. A young man whose name Tella probably didn’t even know. While Scarlett often feared men, Tella was the opposite, always chasing after the wrong ones, hoping one might give her the love their father withheld.

Scarlett thought about returning to her room, warmed with fire and full of blankets. But all the heat in the world would not entice her to share a bed with Julian. She could have gone down and asked the innkeeper for another room, but something told her that was not a wise idea, not after making such a fuss about how Julian needed to be let in. Stupid Julian.