“Have you even provided her with a counsel?”
Marco gestures to Justus. “Her grandfather’s in attendance, is he not?”
Dante snorts, stealing the very sound from my throat. “Her grandfather works for you, Marco. Duty over blood . . . That was the first lesson you ever taught me.”
Marco’s eyes taper closer to his aquiline nose. “Not that this matter concerns you, but I’ll indulge you. Yourfriendand I were discussing strategies to bring peace between our people and the serpents. Although she asserts having no control over the beasts, twice she’s been seen swimming with a serpent, andtwiceshe’s survived. Intriguing, wouldn’t you say?”
“Twice?”
“Signorina Rossi dove into the canal last night to protect a serpent from Ptolemy Timeus’s wrath. I’m surprised news of her midnight dip didn’t reach your perky ears.”
It is the vitriol with which Marco stamps each one of his words that decides me. Even though I desire nothing more than peace in Luce, I won’t helpthisking accomplish it.
“I guess you were too wrapped up in bedsheets to hear much over your whore’s moans.” Marco wears a cruel smile, as though he senses the blow won’t only hurt Dante but also me.
And it does hurt.
Until Dante’s eyes fasten to mine, even though it is to his brother that he speaks. “You can send an army of whores my way to keep me distracted from your politics, and I will never touch any.”
But Beryl said—
And Lord Aristide—
Marco’s smile stutters off his lips. “Don’t lie. They all enter and leave your rooms reeking of sex and looking mildly satisfied.”
Dante removes a snuffbox from his pant pocket, pinches a few crystals, and lets them melt on his tongue. “The women you send me are harlots, which is why they smell of sex. As for mildly satisfied, I’d say I leave them plenty satisfied, Marco. After all, they all leave with purses bursting with gold coins to perpetuate the rumor that the prince is a drunk and a philanderer.”
My heart.
I lift my palm to my breastbone that palpitates with beats.
All of them for this man who has not only proven himself worthy of my love but also of Luce’s throne.
Thirty
Dante steps past his brother to reach me, concern etching his brow. “Why would you dive into the canal?”
I take a moment to drink him in, hating that I doubted him, even though my misgivings were of his own making.
“Fallon?” he prompts.
I should’ve lied while under salt oath. I should’ve insisted I’d slipped off the bridge. If only I’d played my cards adroitly. Sure, there werefoureyewitnesses last night, not counting Timeus’s sprite, but claiming a mishap may have bought me time.
“Maezza, if we don’t depart now, we’ll miss the tides and have to pay the tithe to cross through Glace’s waters,” Justus says.
“The tides?” Marco’s tone is as high as the color tinting the walls of his trophy room. “If we aren’t traveling with enough water and air-Fae, Justus, then gather some more aboard! Nature doesn’t control us; we control it! As for tithes, one of Vladimir’s daughters is here. I imagine that should decrease the asking price.” His jaw is so tight, he looks about to pull a muscle. “Unless my brother isn’t treating her well . . .”
“I treat all my friends well, Marco.”
“Too well, it seems.” Marco’s pupils tighten before spreading, along with the shape of his mouth, as though an idea has just come over him. I glance around the room to see if I’m the only one affected by his erratic humor.
My grandfather’s expression is unreadable, whereas annoyance and confusion are stamped all over Silvius’s face, but I think those have more to do with me than with Marco. As for Dante, he’s too concentrated on my face to register his brother’s.
In a whisper, I finally answer Dante, “I dove into the canal because a dagger was embedded in the serpent’s cheek, and you know my tolerance for animal cruelty.”
“You could’ve died, Fal.” His answer is just as soft as mine.
“But I didn’t.”
