We’d wanted to go with him, or to wait for him in the palace upon his return.
He’d said no. Lucidius’s burial was something he and his mother had to face alone.
And we’d understood, but I didn’t miss the sidelong glances our friends cast him or the tension prickling off his skin, raising the hair on the back of my neck.
There were enough warriors in the tavern tonight, though, that Malakai could sink into the background. A group of familiar faces from our training and school years in Palerman took the table beside ours, and older warriors started up a dance in the middle of the floor, pushing chairs out of their way as they went.
At some point, Tolek and Cypherion disappeared among the crowd.
“Will the Renaiss celebration be in the city this year?” Erista asked, successfully calling my attention away from the man next to me. I slid my hand into his beneath the table, though.
“We’ll be opening the palace gates for the festival actually. And it will spill into the city from there.”
The action was symbolic. It wasn’t common for a head of rule’s home to be opened to any and all on a festival day, but Renaiss wascelebrated across Gallantia, by all seven clans. And this was the first we’d truly enjoy since the shadow of the past war was lifted.
It was a holiday of promises and hope, wild debauchery and rebirth. Things Mystiques needed. In two months, Daminius would be a reverent day of worship and accomplishment, but Renaiss was a celebration of what it was to live.
“I’m looking forward to seeing how Mystiques celebrate the festival day.” Vale’s voice was a low ring amid the rowdy tavern.
I met the Starsearcher’s olive eyes that saw so much more than we Mystiques ever could and exchanged an understanding smile despite the fact that every time I looked at her, Titus’s reading chilled me.
“Alabath!”
I was pulled from the bench.
“Vincienzo!” I laughed as he spun me, throwing my head back and forgetting any worries. Cypherion was behind him, towing Jezebel along. “Where had you gone off to?”
Tol and Cyph exchanged a gleeful glance. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or terrified.
“What’s going on?”
“These two won’t tell me.” Jezebel crossed her arms, head tilted.
“Did you lovely Alabath sisters know that the tattoo shop in the Ascended Quarter has reopened?” Tolek asked, rocking onto the balls of his feet.
“It has?” My eyebrows shot upward. Jezebel’s arms fell to her sides, her jaw dropping.
“Recently,” Cyph explained.
“We checked, and they’re open tonight,” Tolek added.
“Open is a loose term,” Cyph corrected. “But they’re willing.”
“Practically begging.” Tol grinned.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” my sister gushed, exchanging an eager glance with me. “Let’s go!”
“Go where?” Santorina came to stand with us, Malakai just behind her.
“The party is relocating,” Tolek announced, draining the liquor in his hand and placing the glass on the table. “Anyone who wishes to watch is welcome.”
“Watch what?” Vale asked, eyes wide.
Excitement buzzed through my veins. “It appears the four of us have a tattoo appointment.”
“Marxian, what are you doing here?”I burst through the door of the parlor, the acid scent of paint mingling with earthy wood shavings. Cyph hadn’t been joking when he said they’drecentlyreopened.
“I figured you would need your victories etched,” the artist answered. The night he’d inked the Bind between me and Malakai seemed like an eternity ago.
