“Lore doesn’t rule all of Luce yet,dolcca.”
Bronwen’s newest prophecy echoes between my temples and raises goosebumps over my bare arms. It won’t come to that. “My pants will be dry by tomorrow.”
“I’ll lend you some.”
“Dinner is serv—Oh hey, Gia.” Sybille swooshes past her sister in a teal tulle number that makes Giana’s mouth pucker.
“How much gold did you spend on dresses?”
Syb rolls her gray eyes. “I barely made a dent in what Lore left for us to use.”
“He left it for us to use on— Never mind. Just don’t spend any more on frivolous things, all right?” Giana backs up. “I’m going to shower before dinner. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Santo Caldrone, that one’s been tetchy since we landed here. I think the last time I saw her smile was back in the Sky Kingdom.”
“She very dedicated to cause.”
“We all are, Aoife,” Syb says.
Although I don’t refute this, Gianahasbeen working with Antoni on helping Racoccins for decades. Syb and I, we’ve just joined their efforts.
“Come. You’re going to be floored by the entertainment quarters.”
Aoife trails us down the wide stairs, then around them, through a set of mirrored doors that Syb presses open with a great flourish. The U-shaped space is strewn with candles and tables and sofas and plush armchairs. I count five different sitting areas because, apparently, one isn’t enough.
As I stare around the garish crimson and gold room, I see Timeus’s head roll off his shoulders, and I jerk to a stop, jerking Syb to a stop in turn.
“What is it?” Sybille, who was explaining that the frescoed ceiling was apparently painted with real gold leaf, quiets and scans the room for danger. “Did you see someone?” she whispers, grip tightening around my arm.
“No.” I palm my throat, craving the feel of smooth skin. “It’s just—it’s just Ptolemy was a truly hateful man.”
“I could not agree with you more,micara.” Catriona bustles into the grand room, her gaze stroking over the heavy drapes. Is she picturing them open?
What lies beyond them? The manicured garden I spied from the long glass hallway? I’m tempted to part them to peek but Antoni was clear about keeping them closed. Not to mention I don’t want to endanger Aoife.
Catriona has moved on to scrutinizing her. “You should really wipe the dirt from your face. One, it looks like you’ve rolled around in the mud, and two, it gives what you are away.” Catriona has never been one to mince her words but her comment is unwarranted.
“It’s not dirt,” I say.
She flaps a hand. “Yes, yes, it’s war paint.”
“It’s tradition.” Smoke curls off my Crow guard’s rigid shoulders.
“A tradition that is not very popular these days.”
“Catriona, you’ve said your piece. Now leave Aoife alone.”
“Is okay, Fallon.”
My skirt isn’t ample, so there’s no fabric to grab, only fabric to claw at. I claw at it. “Why are you here, Catriona?”
“To aid the cause.”
“Except you don’t care about humans.”
“I care.” At my peaked eyebrow, she adds, “In my own way.”
“The truth, Catriona.”
