Bubbles pop at the surface of the moat. Is Daya already done? Are they swimming up? I squint. Hold my breath. When no Serpent surfaces, I push the air back out of my lungs and attempt to distract myself by asking Justus, “How’s your daughter dealing with her transformation?”
He flinches. “She has twenty-two years of history to catch up on and new magic to tame.”
“I still can’t believe Daya canmakeothers.” Erwin rolls his neck, making it crack. “Can you imagine if Lore could turn humans?”
Justus’s blue irises glow like the algae-filled rivers. “All of Luce would be feathered and winged. Already so many have taken to facial tattooing.”
“Where’s your feather?” I ask. “Still ambivalent about your allegiance?”
“No, but tattoos are permanent, and though they look fine on young skin, they’re not as comely on rumpled faces.”
“You speak as though you were eight-centuries old instead of middle-aged.”
“Just add stripes,” Erwin suggests. “It’ll conceal the wrinkles.”
A slender hand winds around my bicep, startling me, even though I know the shape and weight of my daughter’s fingers by heart. “Are you three truly discussing face care or are my ears deceiving me?”
“Your ears are deceiving you, ínon.”
She smiles and pats my arm.
“Where’s Lore?” I ask.
“Dealing with protests in the west. Apparently, my cousin has been bugging everyone’s homes with listening sigils. Phoebus’s sister found out and toldeveryone. Not only do the Tarespagians and Selvatins feel like it’s a breach of their privacy, but also a breach of the peace accords.”
“At least it’s bringing them together,” Justus says, which earns him three deep glowers. “What? It is.”
“We’d prefer commerce and education bring them together,” I mutter. “Not antagonism towards the new regime.”
“Antoni’s green.” Justus tosses that out as though we’d elected him as governor out of choice. “And his ears are round.”
Fallon bristles. “People are no longer measured by the shape of their ears, Nonno.”
“True, but until the dust has fully settled over the change of regime, I would’ve instated a full-blooded Faerie as well.”
I flex my jaw, remembering our lengthy debate and all the reasons Lorcan refused. He might trust Justus, but the general’s ambitious. “Perhaps the day you wear our feather, Lorcan will indulge you.”
Justus thins his lips.
“Antoni’s not ruling over the entire region alone, Nonno,” Fallon says, trying to ease the tension. “Naoise’s there.”
“Naoise’s a shifter.” Justus barely separates his teeth as he mutters this.
“How did Flavia Surro find out?” Erwin asks.
“Kanti invited her for tea at Antoni’s, which is where all the sigils converge. In one of the rooms. Kanti apparently forgot to reapply her soundproofing sigil.” My daughter says this with a weighted sigh.
“Does Lorcan want me to sail out there?” Justus murmurs.
“Let me ask,” Fallon says. A moment later, she says, “Yes, but he understands if you prefer to stay with your daughter until she acclimates to her new self.”
Justus glances over his shoulder. “Ceres is with her. Besides, it’s Agrippina we’re talking about. Your mother—” He stops. I feel his gaze scrape my face, then the surface of the moat. “Surrogatemother holds on to grudges almost as hard as your mate, so I’m not going to be in her favor for a while, still.”
“Hard to believe anyone can be as begrudging as my mate,” she says with a smile.
“I can fly you over, Justus,” Erwin offers. “Once you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.” As Erwin morphs, I hear Justus murmur, “Zendaya amMeriam,tiudevo.” He walks toward Erwin, exchanging a look with Ceres. At her nod, he climbs atop Erwin.
