𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 | "The Carriage held but just Ourselves - And Immortality."
In which Eden Mercer learns there is more to the Problem, and herself, than meets the eye.
𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 & 𝐂𝐨.
𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡...
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𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍'𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 racing against her chest as she sat in the back of the cab with Anthony. She couldn't tell if it had to do with the fact that they had just run from the Fittes building amid chaos they had caused, the gentle kiss Anthony had placed on her head as they stood trying to distract that man in the library, or because of the very fact that when Anthony had taken her hand as they left, he hadn't let go.
Still now, his fingers clutched hers as he lounged casually somehow against the cab seat while Eden peaked over the back to look out the window. "Is anyone following?" he asked her softly.
The road behind them was deserted. "No," she told him. "But I wouldn't put it past Kipps and that maniac from the Black Library." She turned to the front, smoothing her free hand over the skirt of her gown, glancing at him. "Do you think Penelope saw us?"
Anthony raised his brows for a moment, tilting his head. "Well, after tonight, I think we'll both be off her Christmas card list, that's for sure," he replied with a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Did you see that box she gave him?" Eden questioned, gaze still on him. "It had that symbol on it—the one George found on Fairfax's goggles."
"What, the harp?" Anthony inquired curiously, brows knitting so.
Eden hummed her response. "And we know what a certified bastard he turned out to be," she reminded him.
"Still," Anthony started, squeezing her hand, "we got the book."
She smiled. "We did."
"Let's find the bone glass," Anthony stated. "Let's finish this."
Nodding, Eden's heart only continued to race as he looked at her. She pulled her gaze from Anthony's for a moment, glancing down at her dress. It was a nice piece of clothing, but unfortunately, she hadn't thought much in the realm of how much agility it would lend her. It wouldn't serve them to have her tripping all over the skirt. So, turning back to Anthony, she asked, "Do you have your knife?"
Anthony's brows knit together. "Huh?"
Eden held out her free hand, palm up. "Your knife," she repeated. "I need it."
A bit of confusion had chiseled itself into Anthony's handsome features, but he produced the small blade from the inside of his jacket. It hadn't been a thought to him when he encountered the man in the Black Library to use it, mostly because he had thought they'd be able to sneak away without resorting to blows.
He passed it to Eden, who wiggled her hand out of his. Taking a breath, she held the blade close to her dress, level with her shins. In quick succession, she punctured the tip of the knife through the soft fabric of her dress. She slid the blade in a fluid motion across her shins and continued to follow a circle around her legs. Once she had completely cut off the sweeping skirt of her dress, she handed Anthony his knife back and balled the discard fabric in her hands.
