Spiro nodded. “We’ll stay here until it’s over. You should stay with us. We’ll have dinner.”
As Bellanca looked down the counter at Spiro, his head bowing again over the carved, olive-wood box he locked his money in, she thought about Carver’s father, Anatole. He’d always been kind to her, but she wouldn’t say they’d had a relationship. Same with Carver’s mother, Nerissa. The older woman had tried, but Bellanca hadn’t been ready to try back. Not really. Living under the same roof as them whenever she wasn’t camped out with the army or on a mission didn’t make them her mother and father. But here…somehow… With Spiro worrying about her safety and Theophania gently humming in the courtyard…
The lump in her throat got bigger. She swallowed. She’d never actually had parents. Not in any way that counted.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice a little reedy. “But I really need to go. Carver’s never late. I…have to find him.” She reached out and took the wages Spiro had offered, ignoring the shock to her bandaged wrist when it brushed the inside of her pocket. “Thanks, though.” She found a genuine smile for the man across from her. “I like it when a person surprises me.”
His broad cheeks pinkened. “Bah!” Shaking his head, Spiro turned away from her with a grin he only half hid and hauled his gigantic frame into the kitchen. “Dimitri! Walk Bellanca home. Her derelict husband forgot her.”
Bellanca’s smile faded. Carver was as far from derelict as they came, and Spiro knew it from the exchanges they had nearlyevery evening. Moreover,sheknew it. Even when Carver had been living off wine and bitterness, he’d still managed to accomplish everything he was supposed to.
Panic dug sharp little holes in her armor as Dimitri came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a cloth that he handed to Lilika. Their fingers brushed, and they both seemed to hold their breath for a moment. Lilika eventually turned and put the cloth into one of the laundry baskets behind the counter. She started sorting the wet and stained material for the washing service that came by every other evening. Dimitri’s eyes lingered on her soft, curving body before he turned, too, and joined Spiro at the counter to collect his day’s earnings. The two men started talking, prolonging Bellanca’s agony. After several more minutes, it was all she could do not to ignite in frustration.
Trying to distract herself, she helped Lilika with the laundry. She might as well be useful while she waited. Walking home alone was still an option, but a bad one. A woman standing out in Atlantis was an invitation to be hunted, which would force Bellanca to hunt back, and blowing her cover before they figured out how to bring magic back to the island was what they’d spent the last six months avoiding.
When they finished the sorting, she helped Lilika bring the two nearly overflowing laundry baskets to the gate, leaving them just outside for the washing service that would come by during the night. Bellanca looked up and down the street for Carver. No tall, dark-haired, storm-eyed man walked their way, and her stomach hollowed, fear gobbling up the empty space inside her.
Theophania walked over and added her apron to one of the baskets. “Your husband’s still not here?” Looking concerned, she closed the gate with a firmclack, keeping them all separated from the street. Atlantians had started spilling from their homes and businesses and lining the road that ran right past the tavernato the high wall of Atlantis, all clearly waiting for the king to parade his sacrifice to her death.
Bellanca shook her head.Husband.Such a sacred word here. Carver had a name and yet no one used it. They gave him a title instead.
What if it doesn’t have to be fake anymore?
Her chest clenched. She wanted a friend and advisor she could trust, but did she want to be truly bound to any man as husband and wife?
She could change the rules for Atlantian women, at least on parchment, once she gained the throne, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Carver was lonely here. His recent odd behavior proved he wasn’t satisfied with the status quo. That dissatisfaction wouldn’t just disappear, and their situation was bound to grow so taut it broke. The possibility of losing him filled her with dread, but opening herself up to physical intimacy was also one of the scariest things she could think of.
And yet, the idea of him kissing her didn’t frighten her quite as much as it had yesterday. In fact… She swallowed. She almost wished he had.
Her skin flushed hot with a rush of fire magic through her blood. Bellanca whirled. “Dimitri!” she called from the patio. She couldn’t wait another second. She had tofindCarver before considering anything else.
“Coming,” he hollered back. He didn’t emerge, though, and her gut wouldn’t stop plummeting with the certitude that someone she cared about was in trouble and that she wasn’t there to help.
Orcouldn’t.
The awful feeling reminded her of her younger sister, Lystra—the only one in the Tarvan royal family without magic. “A useless Hoi Polloi aberration,” their parents had said. Lystrasuffered horribly for it, and Bellanca hadn’t known how to help. She hadn’t known how to help her other closest sister, either. Appoline’s seer magic had saved her from some of the physical abuse that came with having elemental magic—or a lack of it—but not from the constant pressure toperformor else see other people suffer the consequences. Most days, Bellanca could barely protect herself from the daily brutality of the royal family and court, and it had been a victory when she could protect anyone else. Her entire life up until killing her cruel and murderous older brother had been about putting out fires instead of burning monsters to the ground.
No more. Magic cracked in her veins. Soon, therewouldbe fire in Atlantis’s sky, just as the Chaos Wizard prophesized, and a new world would rise from the ashes. Bellanca knew she wasn’t perfect, but she could do better thanthis.
She stormed back inside. “I’m leaving. Now. With or without you.” She glared at Dimitri.
“Remind me never to make you angry,” he teased. Her sharp inhalation hissed across the room, and Dimitri’s eyes widened. “Sorry. I’ll be ready soon.”
Bellanca did her best to smooth out her expression. “I’m just worried about Carver. He’d be here if he could.”
Dimitri nodded and slipped out the back, probably to relieve himself before his long walk home. Her path took him in the wrong direction, which just irked her more.
Lilika, who’d followed her inside, lowered a jug of wine from the shelf behind her and passed it over the counter. “Here, take this for your dinner with Carver. You have those nice, big windows overlooking the harbor. It’ll be romantic. And I’msurenothing’s wrong.” She pressed the wine into Bellanca’s hands with a reassuring nod.
“Uh, thank you.” Bellanca took the gift because she wasn’tsure how to refuse. They didn’t keep wine in their house. There was no point in tempting Carver with a vulnerability he’d let pull him under twice. She’d only witnessed one of his drunken spirals, but it was enough to make her want to keep wine out of his reach and Konstantina off his mind.
She stifled a grimace. Honestly, she’d like to keep Konstantina offhermind. She’d never met the woman, and yet Konstantina kept barging into her thoughts, a faceless beauty with smooth dark hair, gentle curves, and golden-tan skin. The exact opposite of Bellanca, all fair and freckled and thin.
A sour taste coated her mouth. “You know, I think thiswillbe useful.” Maybeshe’ddrink the wine and forget about the perfect little villager who’d stolen Carver’s heart and then broken it into a million parts.
Bellanca yanked the stopper from the jug and took a sip. She had to force the liquid down. Despite not really liking it, she took another swig.
“Thirsty?” Lilika raised her eyebrows. They were dark and delicate and lifted into perfect arches as she smiled at Bellanca in support. While maybe a bit rounder, with her glowing, tawny complexion, thick, dark-brown hair, and wide chestnut eyes, Lilika looked a lot like how Bellanca imagined Konstantina. Maybe she was wrong, though. No one had ever actually told her what Konstantina looked like, but if a southern Sintan Hoi Polloi village girl had snagged a rich Magoi on beauty alone, she must’ve been spectacular to look at.
