I did already know. I remembered what Lady Marta had said the first time she’d explained the crown’s finances to me:It’s like you wish your people to eat dreams and be paid in illusions.
“Yes,” I growled. “And though Severine is—was—richer than sunlight, because Sylvain never legitimized me as his heir, I have no legal claim to the Sabourin fortune. The town house in Jardinier, the château at Beauvilliers, and Severine’s personal accounts are all entailed away from me. I didn’t inherit anything. Both the empire and myself are broke. Was there a point?”
“Because of Severine’s fondness forpruningthe family tree, I had a hard time tracking down who did inherit.” Lady Marta held up what looked like a letter. “Turns out, he’s been living in Aifir.”
The floor dissolved beneath my feet like smoke, and I fought to keep my balance.
“Who?”
“His name is Gavin d’Ars,” Marta said. “He’s your distant cousin.”
Jealousy pulsed bloody through my veins, trailed by a curiously blank surge of relief. He was of Sabourin blood. I wasn’t the only one left. “Does that make him a Sun Heir?”
Marta hesitated. “Potentially.”
“Summon him here.” I kept my voice neutral. “I want to know his intentions regarding the fortune that is rightfully mine. And I want to know his intentions regarding the Amber Throne.”
“Dauphine,” Marta said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
She passed me the letter across the table. I scanned it with all the concentration I could muster.Familial trust … imagine my surprise to discover … all haste.I looked up.
“Are you telling me he’s already on his way?”
“He apparently left Aifir immediately after hearing of Severine’s accident.”
Accident?Was that what we’d decided to call it? I bit back a desperate laugh.
“When am I to expect my cousin?”
“Any day now, dauphine,” Marta said, with a look I couldn’t decipher. “Any day.”
I extricated myself from my councillors the moment the Congrès drew to a close, only to see Lullaby’s dark blue skirts flicking away between the gilded doors. Twin fangs of guilt and irritation gnawed at my chest. I knew she’d been through something awful, locked away in the dungeons. And I’d tried to give her space—to process, to recover her equilibrium, toheal.Butspacewas beginning to look likeevasion. I wanted to know why she was avoiding me so diligently.
I missed my friend.
I hiked my heavy dress around my knees and sprinted after Lullaby. She set a fast pace, turning into the wing of the palais that had been all but destroyed during the coup. Luca’s Paper City rebels—known as La Discorde—had set off an explosive artifice to coincide with my incendiary performance at the grotto. It was meant to be a diversion, to draw the Skyclad away from the empress so I’d have a chance to defeat her on equal footing. It wasn’t supposed to destroy half the palais.
A lot of things hadn’t happened the way they were supposed to.
My slippers skittered on broken marble. Crystalline chandeliers listed half-shattered from the ceiling. Gaping windows bared broken teeth to a bloody sky.
“Lullaby?” I ducked through an archway into a forest of pillars wrapped in blackened vines. Muddy streams oozed. Sorrow plucked tight at my throat—I remembered this room. It had once been full of rustling leaves and the cool-quiet rush of clear water. Now, its magic had burned away to ash and grime.
Lullaby waited for me at its center, a shutter of cold hauteur masking her expression. “Yes, dauphine?”
I frowned. Lullaby taught me everything I knew about politesse—I could sense disrespect lurking behind her courtesy.
“I attended your little Congrès, as commanded,” she said through her teeth. “What more do you want from me?”
“I didn’tcommand, I requested. I wanted to see you. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“You haven’t made it difficult.”
Confusion and hurt made me direct. “Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You’resomething,” I snarled. “Ever since I got back from Belsyre and freed you from the Skyclad dungeon you’ve been treating me like a pariah, avoiding me and talking down to me. Either tell me what’s bothering you, or stop acting like I ate your last piece of chocolate and poured kachua all over your favorite dress.”
