I inhale deeply, then try again, wishing the wood weren’t as pale as paper so the others wouldn’t spot my errors, wishing my sanguine strokes would stop wobbling. I fumble the last line’s placement—or maybe it’s the fourth curl that’s mispositioned. The end result is the same: my blood doesn’t sink into the wood.
“Isla?” Konstantin’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long.
I’m about to try a third time when air presses against my cheek and twists my head his way.
“I’ve changed my mind about privacy sigils. I want to be able to hear if something’s said in here later. Besides, the room is so vast and full of fabric that it already absorbs sound. We’ll talk in Crow.” He evidently wants me to stop desecrating his pristine doors but is too gracious to come right out and say it. “Come.” He pats the couch he’s taken a seat on.
As I make my way over, I suck on my fingertip, my skin hot with humiliation under Izolda’s concerned stare and Aodhan’s probing one. Tonight, I will practice the spell until my veins run dry.
When I reach Konstantin, I sit, the supple suede sheathing my legs allowing me to fold them beneath me and retract on myself until I can manage to beat back my moroseness.
“There’s something Isla and I need to tell you, Iz,” Konstantin says, rerouting my qualms.
My rib cage strains like a maladjusted corset, because I think I know what he’s about to impart to his sister. Could Konstantin have timed this revelation more poorly? Izolda’s already reeling over her dispute with one sibling. She hardly needs another.
I jolt as Konstantin collects my clammy hand in his and carries it onto his lap. He makes the move appear so natural. With his thumb, he traces the geometric outline of my diamond.
His, not mine.
“Aodhan suggested explaining the situation, but I preferred you hear it from me.”
Izolda perches on the lip of the couch, sinking her hands into the folds of her navy frock.
“After the carnival, Isla and I traveled to the human lands together.” Around and around the stone his finger goes, brushing against my knuckle with each revolution, coaxing gooseflesh onto my chilled skin. “She disguised us to look like half-bloods, so that we weren’t recognized. We had a drink atSvyato Suprovic’s tavern. There, we found out that he had a daughter.”
While I attempt to pitch my heartbeats back into alignment, Izolda looks from Konstantin to me and back again.
“I asked Salom to bring Svyato’s daughter in for a meeting, but she, along with her father”—his gaze hooks Aodhan’s—“vanished right after our visit last week. We’ve been searching for them high and low, but as of now, we’ve yet to locate either.”
Izolda blinks.
Konstantin halts his thumb’s manic pacing. “I’ve had Ksenia tailed, but she’s led us nowhere near the father or daughter.”
Because she doesn’t know them? Because she senses she’s being followed?
“As for Lev’s hands, it came to our attention that he’s been selling weapons to antimorphs. Which is the true reason I punished him. I promised his parents to keep his traitorous dealings a secret and feign that my chastisement was spurred by jealousy.”
“Why would Lev support the mutinies?” Izolda asks. “He’s one of the few who likes shifters.”
“He claims he wasn’t aware they’d use the guns and dirty bombs to terrorize.” Aodhan’s hand tangles in Izolda’s supple locks. “He truly believed they’d use them for protection and hunting.”
Izolda sucks in air. “So he didn’t mean you harm? It’s coincidental?”
“Yes and no. The sale of weapons to anyone but the Glacin army must be approved by the Crown, who then delivers permits, which he is fully aware of. Apparently, the Zaslofskys’ company has suffered some financial losses recently, and he was trying to offset them.”
“It was a mercy to take only his hands,” she murmurs.
“A self-serving one, sister. He’s now entirely beholden to me. If he so much as tries togifta butter knife, my bargain will compel him to use it on himself.” Konstantin rolls his neck. “You must keep the reason for his mutilation a secret from everyone, and I do meaneveryone, save for Salom, Borat, Aodhan, and Isla.” Konstantin sheaths his fingers through mine. “There’s one more thing.”
This is when he confesses that we’re not mates.
This is when he lets go of my hand.
This is when I lose Izolda’s trust and possibly her affection.
I steel myself for the blow it will have on our friendship and prepare an apology, but Konstantin surprises me once more.
“Mestyla, Svyato’s girl…”
