Silvius’s palm drifts toward the ruby-encrusted pommel of his sword that looks a mighty lot like . . . like—
I fling my gaze back up to his face. “Where did you get that sword?”
Silvius’s fingers freeze just above the faceted rubies. “I pried it off your grandfather’s dead body. I didn’t think he’d have any more use for it considering one needs a head to command a hand, and one of your beasts wore his on its tusk.”
Each pulse of my heart feels like a stab.
Justus is dead.
A serpent killed him.
I wait to feel a wave of relief clap over me, but it doesn’t come. Perhaps it’ll come later. “A shame another of my beasts didn’t adorn their tusk with your head.”
Silvius’s grin grows in cruelty as he backs away.
As soon as the foliage fences him off, Imogen barks at the soldier leading us across the isle, “How much farther is your godsdamned healer?”
“Just over the next bridge,” the man replies, voice as tight as the lines of his body. Although he doesn’t touch his own sword, his gaze keeps flicking between my Crow guards.
“Did you know my grandfather was dead, Imogen?” I ask as we start up again.
“No.” Imogen mutters something about being led in circles.
Since everything in Isolacuori is round, from its five islands to its canals, I’m guessing we are walking in circles. But it is true that we’ve walked for quite some time. Perhaps we really have been taken for a loop. Why, though? To annoy us?
I trip, then come to a standstill.
What if they didn’t take Syb to the healer?
What if—
“We’ve arrived.” The soldier points to a wooden one-storied structure with stained glass windows and a door baring the sunray insignia.
Imogen shoves it open.
The second my gaze lands on my friend’s black hair and mint-green dress, I breathe out a sigh of relief. Perhaps my worry was unwarranted, yet I cannot help how antsy I felt.
“Fal!” Syb exclaims, startling the Nebban princess, who is inspecting the dusty vials lining one of the many shelves.
I frown, wondering why Syb is propped on the exam table and Eponine is the one walking around. And where is the healer?
From the tight press of both women’s lips, I fathom I’ve interrupted a conversation. “Ready to go home, Syb?”
“Yes.” She hops off the exam table. As she bustles toward me, she looks over her shoulder at Eponine. “We’d be honored to attend your gilding revel. Thank you for the invitation.”
My jaw slackens. The princess’s gilding revel? Syb better not have included me in thewe. There is no way in Luce I’m attending festivities to celebrate the arranged marriage of my ex-lover and his tanked-up Nebban princess.
“I hope the healer finds herbs to help soothe your headache,” my friend adds before turning her attention back to me.
As soon as the door shuts behind Syb, I ask, “She’s invited you to her gilding revel?”
“She’s invitedus—you, me, my sister, Catriona—as well as whichever Crows guard you that day.”
Imogen’s dark eyebrows slant. “I will have to run this invitation past—”
“No one,” I say, “since I do not plan on attending.”
“Oh come on, Fal. Dante apparently wants to keep it super exclusive. Just family and closest friends. And we get party favors.Regalparty favors. Which meansjewels.” She flaps her eyelashes.
