Cloudia doesn’t answer or even seem to register Delphine’s presence. She simply repeats herself again, then drifts back to sleep.
Her sudden stillness and composure are even more unsettling than all the shouting and thrashing. Ice trickles between my shoulder blades, and I shiver despite the heat.
Delphine continues whispering to Cloudia, tearfully begging her to say more. When she finally gives up, Delphine gestures for me to follow her to the corner by the stove.
“Do you think this means the bagrava is working?” she asks. “Cloudia sounded so calm, almost like her old herself. Except the words. They were so macabre.”
I shrug helplessly. “It could be the bagrava, or it could be nothing more than a bad dream. The only way to know is to continue giving her the tea twice a day and monitor the results. Make sure someone stays with her while you’re working, in case she suffers any adverse effects or speaks again. We need to write down everything she says, especially in her seemingly more lucid moments. It might give us insight into what’s happening in her mind.”
“Thank you.” Delphine’s eyes brim with tears as she walks me to the door. “I know you didn’t come to Vanzador under happy circumstances. Rowenna’s death was a terrible tragedy—one I wish I could reverse, despite our differences—but the one silver lining is it brought usyou.And your friendship has been nothing short of miraculous for Cloudia and me. I thought knowing this might bring you a small measure of comfort.”
Delphine squeezes my hand, and now I’m getting choked up because itiscomforting. I hope Rowenna can feel it too. I hope she sees these new green shoots, springing up from the ashes of her death.
Forgive me if I’m less than thrilled my greatest legacy is helping a Vanzadorian servant and her ailing sister, Rowenna grumbles.
I want to shake her and make her see sense.Why do you insist on being so discontent when we’re making good progress and gaining more allies?
Because you don’t need other allies, she says, and I sigh.
I have to trust and rely on someone who’s actually here. But that doesn’t mean I’ve turned my back on you. I’m doing all of thisforyou. Surely, you see that.
As quick as it appeared, the familiar crackle of my sister’s presence is gone—blown out like a candle—and I don’t rush to call her back.
She’d see right through my groveling anyway.
It’s difficult to apologize when you’re not actually sorry.
Twenty-Nine
When dawn breaks the following morning, I find myself in the same unlikely place as the day before, knocking on Alaric Alaverdi’s chamber door.
“Whyis this becoming a regular occurrence?” he groans through the small crack.
I’m so flustered and unsure how to act after everything that transpired in the solarium the day before, I babble and fidget nervously.
“I let you run off with your maid, precisely as you wished—shouldn’t that buy me at least one morning of peace?” he demands.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just thought you’d want to know what happened with Delphine’s sister.”
I venture a smile and wait for the curious boy who sat beside me in the bagrava bed and asked to join us to visit Cloudia to join us on our visit to Cloudia to reappear and invite me in, but Alaric’s scowl deepens, and he closes the door another fraction.
“Well, you thought wrong. Why would I care about a random servant’s sibling?”
His voice is pure ice, and it slaps me across the cheek.
“B-because you were there,” I stammer.
“And then I was dismissed,” he says flatly. “Like always. You’d thinkI’d be better at sensing where I’m not wanted by now.”
“It isn’t like that. I wanted you to come, but it wasn’t my place—”
“Are we done here?” Alaric snaps. “I have things to do.”
“No,” I say, taking a breath for courage. “I was hoping you might accompany me to your mother’s salon this morning.”
Alaric’s face contorts with horror. “Why, in the name of the kings, would I do that?”
Because I need to search for the gemstone triad, and I can’t bear to face Garitt Von Nevus without, at least, the illusion of protection.
