“Only kill. But dress will weaken guard.”
I fathom he means Dante will let down his guard.
“Can I don this thingbeneathmy dress?” Not that I haveanylove for the prickly gold tulle, but it beats parading around a bunch of soldiers half naked.
“No. You need distract king. And you move more easy in plain dress.”
“I’d move more easily in pants and a shirt,” I grumble. “Any chance I could get some fresh knickers?”
“Didn’t Jus—just get bag the other day?”
“I’ve gone through all of them.”
“All?”
“Yes,all. I don’t know how often you swap yours, Nonno, and I’ve no desire to find out, so no need to share, but I very much appreciate clean underwear.”
He mutters something beneath his breath. “Fine. Put dress while I find clean one.”
“If by any chance you stumble upon a brassiere, I’m a taker!” I call out right before he exits the cellar with a huff.
The awkward interlude ferries a smile to my lips that chips off with every button I unfasten. Tonight is the night I end Dante Regio’s life. It feels like I’ve been working toward this moment for years even though it’s been mere weeks.
Nerves fritter my confidence, and I begin to doubt that I’m fit for the job.
He’s a cruel man who kidnapped you, Fal. Who bled you. Who lied to you. Who killed your horse. Who removed Antoni’s fingernails. Who hungers for nothing more than the Crows’ extermination.
Those last three reminders inject steel into my backbone. Hurting me is one thing; hurting those I love is another.
By the time I’ve donned the pearlescent pink slip, Justus is back, his strides as brisk as his breaths. I take it the closet he’s fished these from is not in the obsidian tunnels.
He tosses the undergarments into my cage. “Here.”
When he doesn’t pivot, I twirl my fingers. “A little privacy.”
“Right.” He tugs at his shirt collar as he finally spins.
“After my . . .meal, will you tell me where to find my mother?” I keep her name off my lips in case the sigil has lost its vigor.Dosigils lose vigor?
There’s a long pause during which he shifts from foot to foot. Is it me, or are his boots uncharacteristically scuffed? Perhaps his journey to Domitina’s closet was more arduous than I imagined.
“Justus?”
“You be told.”
One more stimulus . . . Not only will I get my mate back, but I will also get my mother.
“I’m glad for your word, but I’d prefer an oath.”
He starts to run his hand through his hair but stops when he encounters the leather cord binding it. Gods, he’s even more distraught than I am and yet he’s not the one about to do all the stabbing.
“No oath.” He taps his bicep. “Oath reveal magic.”
Thank the Cauldron he remembered that.
After rolling on my underwear and binding my breasts, I curl my fingers around the bars of my cage and breathe in and out slowly, willing my courage to increase.
I think of Lore, picture him with so much vigor that he suddenly appears in all his dark splendor.
