I almost make a quip about Catriona being familiar with all of Marco’s pipes but decide to stay the course. “Does he possess art? Or statues?”
“A map of the kingdom. The amount of land he rules is impressive. Did you know that Tarespagia is four times the size of Tarelexo and Tarecuori put together?”
“I didn’t. But now I do. Anything else?” I’ve been wiping down the same glass since she burst in, but Catriona’s too deep in her reverie to notice.
“Not that I remember.”
So, the crow isn’t in the king’s private chambers. One more area to check off my treasure map.
She blinks out of her trance. “Why didn’t you come?”
“I misplaced my ribbon.”
“You—” A gurgle of laughter drifts from her mouth. When she realizes I’m not laughing, she sobers. “I’m sorry. Truly a shame.”
I grind my teeth, my anger at Nonna swelling anew. She wasn’t home when I left with Sybille, but I have every intention of confronting her about it after my shift.
Catriona fingers the spikey tips of her earrings. “So you stayed home alone?”
“No. I went out with friends who didn’t receive invitations.”
“How positively compassionate of you.” She yawns, revealing what she thinks of my compassion.
Unless she’s tired.
I prefer to think she’s tired. I keep my gaze on the glass I’m drying. “Did you see Dante last night?”
“I did. He was on his best behavior. Then again, the princess of Glace was in attendance.”
I jerk my gaze to her face. “What does the Glacin princess have to do with his behavior?”
“He’s courting her, silly. She’s quite frigid. And pale. Ghoulishly so. You’d think the sun doesn’t shine in the north.”
Before I can peel my jaw off the countertop, the door of the tavern swings open, and Antoni strides in, balancing a pallet stacked high with fish and ice. The second his eyes alight on me, a smile commandeers his mouth, and he swaggers over with his fish.
“Fallon. Catriona.” He says both our names but only looks at me.
He circles the bar and walks into the kitchen to deliver his loot to Sybille’s mother, who was elbow deep in onions and garlic last time I was in there.
Catriona watches the swing door that has yet to settle. “Your flame is burning hot, micara.”
“What?”
“Antoni almost walked into the wall instead of the door. Marco asked me tons of questions about you. And Silv—” Her eyes open wide. “Your maidenhead’s intact, correct?”
Heat swarms me even though I’m still stuck on the king enquiring about me. He’s never even met me.
“How would you like to earn a gold piece?”
My heart kicks at the boning in my corset. A gold coin would cover my rent on an apartment for at least a year.
“Make that three if a king is in the mix . . .” Catriona muses aloud.
I set down the glass but don’t pick up another. “How?”
“By doing what I did eighty-two years ago.”
My pulse sprints because I think I know what she’s getting at. “What did you do?”
