“Never. I should take your keys.”
“Stealing keys to the Fortezza is a banishable offense.”
“Oh no, not banishable. I would never do something banishable, like defying the church’s edicts by fraternizing with you.”
“They wouldn’t banish you. Only lock you up for a few days.”
“Much better. Now that I’ve risked my freedom, tell me who you’re going to pick so I can make some bets.”
“I haven’t decided yet, and I wouldn’t tell you if I had. In fact, I hope you’re the last person on Saverio to find out this very important information.”
He snorted. “Fine. I deserve that. But everyone’s been asking.”
“Why do they expect you to know? I’m not your sister anymore, remember?” She couldn’t hide her resentment. “You handed me over to the gods.”
“Now, now,” he said, gaze flicking upward. “The Verità says parents must relinquish a chosen child to the community. It doesn’t specifically say anything about siblings.”
“Oh, so that’s why you still talk to me, huh? A brotherly loophole?”
“I’m just saying, in Dea’s eyes, I’m not doing anything wrong here.”
Unlike Alessa, who was violating the holy rules. How fitting for Adrick to skate by on a divine technicality and leave her with the guilt. He always had known how to charm his way out of trouble. “Well, loophole or no, Mama would swat your bottom raw if she knew you’d tainted her holy sacrifice by staying in touch.”
“Aw, Lessa, that’s not fair. She loves you, but she loves Dea, too, and she knows her duty. Once you finish saving Saverio and they release you from your golden cage, she’ll be the first one running to hug you.” His gaze roamed across everything but his sister. “Well, maybe not hug you.”
“If you say so.” Alessa’s voice was too high, too light.
“You’d better not cry. Goddesses can’t go around weeping in public.”
“I’m not a goddess. And I’m not crying.”
“Good. Now, scurry back to your palace and order a few strapping young guards to fan you while you eat bonbons or whatever it is you do all day.”
Alessa snorted. “Oh, yes, it’s all luxury, all the time. If you’re volunteering to take my place, go right ahead.”
Adrick laughed drily. “Would if I could. Maybe Dea’s aim was off on choosing day, eh?”
“Now, there’s a thought. Bring a batch of Mama’s macarons the morning after the gala, and maybe I’ll tell you who I’m going to choose. For half your winnings.”
“Half?” Adrick’s grin returned. “Not a chance. I brought you two dozen last week. What mere mortal could finish that many so fast?” He slid into a sardonic drawl. “Ah right, but you are no mere mortal, are you.”
“You’re terrible.”
“And you love me. Hope Dea picked the right twin.”
She snorted. “How can you doubt, when it’s going so well?”
“Hey!” A masculine voice called out. “You, get away from there.”
“Until next time, lil sister…” Adrick trailed off as he fled. “Try not to kill anyone before then.”
Five
Chi sta alle scolte, sente le sue colpe.
Eavesdroppers hear no good about themselves.
The following evening, Alessa unwrapped layers of tissue-thin paper to reveal the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen.
The tiny buttons down the back were meant to be fastened by someone else, but she made do, turning the gown backward halfway up to fasten the buttons, then rotating it and squeezing her arms through the neckline.
Her breath caught as she looked in the mirror, and only partly from the constriction around her ribs.
She glittered like a sea of diamonds. The structured bodice was cream-colored silk studded with gems, and it swooped into a low neckline that exposed her shoulders and dipped in the middle. Below, layered cape-skirts flashed silver and gold silk with her every movement. She hadn’t shown this much skin in public since—well, ever.
When she’d first entered the Cittadella, she’d expected parties every day and a wardrobe full of gowns like this. Then she’d come to learn her days would be spent studying, training with weaponry, and analyzing battle strategies, and she realized most of her clothing would serve one important function—to cover every possible bit of her lethal skin.
This dress, though. This was a dress fit for a fairy-tale princess. It hadn’t been made for a Finestra at all, but commandeered from the city’s most illustrious seamstress, and somewhere in the city, a very wealthy woman must be justifiably furious.