At the gate to the Cittadella, her father clapped Dante on the back, practically knocking him into Josef.
Kamaria’s gift again made every lantern in the corridor sputter out, drawing scattered screams from every direction as they tumbled inside. Adrick and Josef shared the load of getting Dante up the stairs, every step seeming higher than the last, until they reached the main floor and Adrick had to turn back. Alessa took over, and together they minced across the courtyard, their odd clothing and stilted movements drawing a confused stare from a passing guard.
Alessa grinned widely. “Too many toasts, but a little espresso will sort him right out!”
The guard shrugged.
Upstairs, Kamaria hobbled around, fetching soap and juice while Josef steadied Dante so Alessa could help him out of his filthy clothes.
Alessa looked up from trying to wrench off Dante’s shoes at a gasp from the doorway.
“I wasn’t looking, Josef, I wasn’t looking!” Nina covered her eyes.
Josef sighed and shook his head.
“Did I do all right?” Nina wiggled with pride. “I know my acting was a bit over the top, but I had to commit, or it would never be convincing. Josef, you were so dashing! The bars bent back in place beautifully, and I think the scream really helped.”
“It did,” Alessa said. “Thank you.”
Nina’s lip trembled. “Least I could do. I’m really—”
“You can apologize after the battle, okay?”
Tears glittered on Nina’s coppery lashes. “Or during?”
Alessa smiled. “Sure. We’re bound to have a few breaks, right?”
Kamaria deposited a tray of steaming bowls and mugs on the table, and swiped the pile of Dante’s filthy, torn clothing from the floor. “I’ll toss these.”
Alessa didn’t even bother taking off her own clothes when she and Josef got Dante down to the salt baths, wading into the water fully dressed. “I’ll yell if I need you.”
Josef nodded. “I’ll bring down the broth.”
One arm around his chest, Alessa cradled Dante in the water, using her other hand to wet his hair and stroke it back from his face.
Her heart tightened at the memory of when she was the injured one soaking while Dante lounged on the stairs, scoffing at her theories about ghiotte. She couldn’t remember what she’d said, but her words must have stung, adding another layer of cuts on top of a lifetime of scars. How many times had Dante bit his tongue while people like her discussed how evil he was, how selfish and horrible his parents had been?
She’d spent years wondering if there was something wrong with her, if she was a mistake, a flaw in the divine tapestry of the world, and it had nearly killed her. He’d lived with it his entire life.
Despite a lifetime of misery, Dante had helped a little girl in an alley being bullied by someone stronger and more powerful. He’d chosen to say yes when a scared young woman asked for help.
He’d stayed when he could’ve left, loved when he could have hated, and he’d let himself be locked up to protect people who had no qualms about making him suffer.
They didn’t deserve him.
Josef tiptoed into the bathing room with the tray, nudging it close to the edge so Alessa could reach.
Dante’s eyes were closed, but he drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally wincing as she dabbed his wounds with a wet cloth.
“Don’t bother. I’ll heal soon enough,” he said.
She reached for a spoon, determined to get some sustenance into him so his powers could work unhindered. “Will you let me take care of you, for once?”
“No one takes care of me,” he slurred.
Tears pricked her eyes. “I do. Now shush.”
The broth, or his powers, revived him enough for a smile to curl his lips. “Aren’t you supposed to kiss injuries to make them better?”
She pressed a kiss to his temple.
“That doesn’t count.”
“If I kiss you like I want to,” she scolded, “you’d drop dead from exertion. Heal yourself, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
His eyes opened. “When is Divorando?”
“Not for another day. Don’t worry about it right now. You need to rest.”
Josef must have been waiting with his ears cocked at the top of the stairs, because he clattered down the moment she called for help. Together, they hauled Dante from the water, wrapped him in towels, and maneuvered him up the stairs.
Josef was adorably mortified about tucking a sleeping ghiotte into his Finestra’s bed.