“No, thank you,” I mumbled as I plopped a few slices of duck onto my plate.
I passed the serving fork to Kit, who also waved off Violette's offer. “I’ll have water,” he said.
“I think we have a bit of whiskey, Kitten,” she pressed. “Isn’t that your vice of choice? You were practically raised on the stuff.”
I tipped my head toward Kit, remembering our first nights in Ashpoint when he’d put himself to sleep with liquor more often than not. We still had a bottle in the cabinet, half-finished and, to my knowledge, untouched over the past few weeks. I hadn’t given it much thought before now, but it seemed his appetite for the stuff had waned.
“Myfather’svice,” Kit replied as he loaded his plate. “I try to avoid it.”
Violette bounced her shoulders, making the hem of her dress swish. “Suit yourself.” She set the rest of the food on the table and went back for the wine and water before finally settling in herself.
Not much was said as everyone began to eat. I took longer than necessary to slice my portion of duck into cubes while occasionally stealing glances at Merrick. He remained so focused on his plate that he might have glared a hole through it and the table. He was clearly determined not to break the growing silence and, if I had taken anything away from Kit’s intervention, it was that I was best to keep my thoughts to myself, as well.
Finally, Kit himself piped up. “Have you heard from any of the other initiates yet? Has anyone come back?”
Violette waved her fork. “No one’s been as quick as the two of you. Though we heard this afternoon that one pair was caught mid-dig out near Dalhurst. They were arrested and executed before we even got word.” She grinned a shark-toothed smile and leaned toward us. “Clearly not asskillful as you at bringing back bodies. That was a clever trick, splitting the bones up into supply crates.”
Kit shrugged, and there was a stiffness to the movement that made it seem less than casual. “Wasn’t going to risk getting caught with a casket in the cart. Seemed a logical solution.”
He was nonchalant, but something Violette said stuck with me, and I squeaked, “Executed?”
Merrick chortled. “Thatisthe punishment for grave robbing, Penwell. What else did you expect?”
Ignoring his response, I turned my attention on Violette. “Who was executed? What were their names?”
It could have been Rosie and Tessa. The latter I wouldn’t have minded losing, but Rosie was my dearest friend in this place. I’d missed her since Kit and I returned. Our baking lessons were one of my favorite pastimes, and the thought of never seeing her again turned my blood cold.
Violette’s eyes rolled skyward, and she gave a contemplative hum. “Not sure. Young couple. Newlyweds, I think.”
“Cait and Edgar?” I asked.
Violette shrugged. “Sounds right.”
Relief at Rosie’s apparent survival mingled with a horrible sinking feeling. I’d barely touched my food and couldn’t fathom starting now as my stomach swirled with nausea. I set down my fork and glanced at Kit. He was pale.
Across the table, Merrick and Violette chewed their duck and sipped their wine.
“Will there be some sort of… service?” I asked. “A memorial?”
Violette laughed and reached across to pat my arm. “Aww, Merry, he’s precious.”
Merrick snorted and grumbled, “He’s a dunce.”
“No, Pretty Penny.” Violette shook her head. “Anyone who dies here is given to the Vessel. That’s a bit of a memorial, I suppose.”
“But Cait and Edgar didn’t die here,” I said.
So, there would be nothing.
A dozen more questions flooded my mind. Did their families know? Both those in and out of Ashpoint? What would happen to their remains? Their bodies would be burned, to be sure, but then scattered where? More than any of that, I wondered if they’d been together at the end. If they’d been able to reassure each other, or embrace, or even hold hands before their deaths.
A shiver shook me, and I pulled free of Violette to squeeze my arms around my middle. I’d never wanted to live alone. I cherished the idea of love and a partner long before I met Kit. The thought of dying alone was even more unbearable.
As if he could sense my distress, Kit slipped his hand onto my leg under the table. I moved as swiftly and discreetly as I could to grab it and squeeze. Merrick had gone back to glaring at his dinner plate, and Violette was topping off her wine glass when I called over to her.
“I think I would like a bit of that, after all.” I nodded to the carafe.
Kit’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, and it was all I could do not to crawl into his lap and sob. Violette seemed eager enough to share the drink, though, and filled my cup to the brim. I snagged it with my free hand and set to work nearly emptying the thing before she could even sit back down.
