“No. I do meanwhy. Why would a girl attack you?”
“Because the pureling called me a whore,” I huff.
Cato’s head spins toward me, shooting me a look that urges me to buckle my lips.
“You should be beaten for your insolence,” the marquess barks.
“And you should be—” Before I can utter the wordneutered, Cato barks out my name.
He turns back toward the nobleman, whose eyes are slitted in my direction. “How did she attack you, Marquess?”
“With my slipper,” I mutter, at the same time as Timeus bellows, “With her pet serpent.”
Fear claws at my throat. “What? No—I—” If he demands Minimus be put to death, I will find a steel dagger and pierce his black heart. Subduing my temper before it can get me into any more trouble, I say, “I don’t have a pet serpent.”
“Fallon!” My name uttered by Cato is as sharp as the wind biting into my skin.
“Fallon. Of course . . .” The marquess’s pointy jaw lifts. “The market rat, also known as the serpent-charmer.”
My fingers ball into fists at my side. “I’m soaked in salt, Timeus.” I purposely leave out his title. “I cannot possibly lie.” I lick my lips, making a show of consuming more of the truth-telling mineral that’s only ever bettered my mendaciousness. “I confess I hit the nobleman with my shoe because he tried to maim an innocent sea creature. Forgive me if I care about beasts more than I care about men.”
“Treasonous cunt.” The marquess’s flush deepens to burgundy.
“Refrain from libels, Marquess!” Cato roars.
“She called me a—”
“Pureling.” A nerve feathers Cato’s stiff jaw. “That’s hardly an insult.”
“I demand her crime be reported to the king immediately!”
Cato stays silent, still working through the anger sharpening his features. He’s very,verymad at me, but it’ll pale in comparison to how Nonna will react when she hears about my midnight swim.
“Clyde!” Timeus’s sprite jumps. “Head to Isolacuori and report—”
Cato spins toward the man. “Your sprite’s wings will be cleaved off his back if he penetrates the palace without being granted an audience.”
The sprite recoils with a hiss that echoes over the canal like the drone of a bumblebee.
Timeus crosses his arms. “My boat has incurred much damage. My silk pillows are soaked in dank canal water. I expect her to coverallexpenses.”
This time, I’m the one to hiss. “I didn’t do anything to your boat.”
Timeus narrows his eyes. “Your eyes are blue, girl. Don’t pretend you didn’t wield your magic to make that snake attack me.”
“I have no magic.” I push my wet hair out of my face so he can see the shape of my ears. “I’m not a pure-blood like you,sir.”
“Halflings have magic.”
“Not all of us.”
“Well, you did something. I didn’t crash into the embankment by—”
“You’re the one who used magic.”
“To defend myself! That is allowed. Besides, like you pointed out, I’m a pure-blood, and a marquess, and we carry permits to use our magic as we so please.”
Cato sighs. “Fallon . . .”
