The Grandest Game

by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Jameson looked from Grayson to Lyra and smiled a smile that could only be described as wicked. “This should be fun.”

You cannot Escape the reality of tomorrow by evading it today. —Abraham Lincoln

“I’m not wheezing.” Gigi gave herself a little pep talk. “I’m breathing in an almost musical manner.”

“Sometimes,” Avery said, “in the games that matter most, the only way to really play is to live.”

“This is the part where I humbly admit to being the boldest and most dashing Hawthorne—or, at a minimum, the least wary of explosions and social rejection—and ask if I can have this dance.”

Beside Avery, Jameson was looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars and eternity, all rolled into one.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“You, Ms. Kane,” Odette said, coming to stand in front of Lyra, “are a dancer.” The old woman turned her attention to Grayson. “And you are very much a Hawthorne.”

Grayson bent to block out the rest of the world from her view. “Give me your eyes, sweetheart.”

HERE THERE BE DRAGONS.

“Love is a strange and wild beast,” the old woman said. “It’s a gift and a comfort and a curse. Remember that.” She looked toward Grayson. “Both of you.”