Marc grunted.
Ysabel’s lips twitched. “While we often use hand signals to speak to each other, Marc can hear perfectly fine.”
Yeah, Carver had gotten that.
Ysabel turned her attention to Amryn. “I was relieved to get your message. I was worried you and your friends might not have escaped Market Square.” Her eyes tracked over Amryn’s faded bruises and the scabbed cut on her neck. She winced. “Though perhaps not wholly unscathed.”
“We all made it out,” Amryn said. “Ford was stabbed, though.”
Concern filled Ysabel’s face as she leaned forward. “Is he all right?”
“He’s healing well,” Amryn assured her.
Ysabel’s shoulders lowered slightly. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“How did you make it out?” Amryn asked.
“Marc,” Ysabel said simply. “When the pain hit . . .” Her words drifted, but the noise in the room was enough to drown out their conversation. Still, she chose her words with care. “Marc had to carry me out of there, but we were lucky.”
Marc’s hands moved rapidly.
Ysabel translated. “He thinks it’s time we leave Zagrev.”
Amryn’s forehead creased. “Where would you go?”
Ysabel shrugged. “Anywhere. We rarely have a fixed destination in mind.”
Amryn shared a quick look with Carver before saying, “After the emperor’s ball, we’re going to Westmont.”
The corner of Ysabel’s mouth lifted. “I do like the coast.”
Marc looked about as thrilled as Carver did with this turn in conversation. While Carver didn’t have anything personally against Ysabel, knowing the empath had the ability to expose his wife’s secret—even if it was extremely unlikely—made him uneasy. He assumed Marc felt the same about him and Amryn.
A burst of yelling across the room made them all look over. It seemed the victor in a card game was being accused of cheating.
When Carver’s attention shifted back, he caught the strain on Ysabel’s face.
Marc’s fingers flew.
Ysabel sighed. “Marc doesn’t like it when I’m in a crowd like this. It can be difficult, as you well know.”
Amryn merely nodded.
Carver had gotten so used to Amryn using the bloodstone to minimize the overwhelming emotions, he hadn’t even thought about the discomfort Ysabel was enduring. When they left Zagrev and Amryn didn’t need the amulet anymore, he would need to be more aware so he could ensure she was as comfortable as possible.
“I suppose we should get to it, then,” Ysabel continued. “Marc wants to know why you reached out to me.” The skin around her eyes tightened. “Truthfully, I’m curious myself.”
Amryn touched the satchel on her lap. She’d slipped it off her shoulder when they’d sat. “I was hoping you’d be willing to use your gift to read something for me.”
“Of course,” Ysabel agreed at once. “We’ll need to go somewhere more private, though. Would you like to come up to my room?”
“Only if we can all fit,” Carver said.
Ysabel didn’t seem the least bit annoyed by his firm tone. “Of course. But I assure you, Carver, you can trust me.”
“Trust doesn’t come easily for me.”
“Yes, I sense that about you.” Ysabel’s head tipped to the side as she studied him. “But once your trust is earned, I think your loyalty is absolute.” Her gaze grew hooded. “For better or worse, perhaps.”
