Lore leans forward, his chair creaking like his leather armor. “You are his commander, are you not?”
“I don’t see—”
“My commanders know all I do.”
Gabriele’s lips squeeze. “Dante and I’ve had some disagreements as of late. In case you’ve failed to hear, he’s been thinking of reinstating Dargento.”
“We’ve heard.” Lore loses his solid edges, and his shadows coil around me as though to protect me from the vile man. “Where is that pointy-eared louse anyway?”
“With Dante.”
“Where?”
“I wasn’t told where. I was only told that Tavo and I needed to remain in Isolacuori to protect it during the king’s absence.”
“He must trust you and Tavo immensely considering the influx of Nebban soldiers.”
Gabriele’s cheeks hollow as though he’s bitten into something sour. “They were brought in to keep his betrothed safe.”
I snort, which garners me quite a few stares.
My father tilts his head to the side. “What is it,ínon?”
“Roy does not care a lick for his daughter. He probably stationed them there to keep a foothold in Luce.”
Gabriele startles. “Fallon?”
“Hi, Gabriele.”
“You’re alive?”
“You didjusthear me speak.”
“I forgot to mention”—Syb leans past Phoebus to look at me—“Lucins think you perished. We knew you hadn’t, thanks to Imogen.” She scans the table until her gaze lands on Aoife who sits beside Arin, stiff-backed, stiff-necked, stiff-jawed.
“Does Dante believe me dead?” I ask to steer the attention away from her missing sister.
“He’s the one who made the announcement,” Gabriele says. “He’s warned everyone that the Crows will come to retaliate, and that was why Roy was lending us his troops.”
“Why do you think my nephew went into hiding, Fallon?” Bronwen asks as she pads into the Market Tavern. “He may not have given the order to kill you, but your alleged death happened in his part of the realm.”
My father stands and goes to her side. Although she may not ask for help, or want it most of the time, she accepts his proffered arm. After she’s seated in front of Mattia, Cathal returns to his own chair.
“Nephew?” The line of Gabriele’s shoulders is as sharp as the tips of his ears that poke out from the blindfold. “Dante is related to your kind?”
“Through wedlock,” Lore replies.
“Are you one of his mother’s sisters?”
“I was Andrea’s older sister, actually.Half-sister.”
Gabriele sucks in a breath, then releases it along with the name, “Aurora? I thought—I thought she’d perished in her father’s flames.”
“Aurora perished in her father’s flames;Iwalked out of her ashes.”
“Does Dante know you live?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way. I may have been Costa’s bastard daughter, but I was still his daughter. Cauldron forbid Dante believes me desirous of a throne that does not even belong to him.”
