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This Vicious Grace (The Last Finestra #1)(33)

Author:Emily Thiede

Renata studied Dante the way a cat nudged a dead bird to see if it was fresh enough to eat. “Why is this one out of uniform?”

“This one,” drawled Dante, “doesn’t like uniforms.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” Renata asked again.

Dante gave her a cold smile. “You heard her. I’m her new guard.”

“And what happened to your previous guard, Finestra?” Renata asked, turning the title into a warning.

Alessa tried to speak, but the words seemed to be locked in a vault. “He … abdicated his duty.”

“What did he do?” The lightning flash of rage in Renata’s eyes did more to reassure Alessa than anything she’d said thus far.

Talking about what happened would make it too real. The terror had barely settled, and she couldn’t bear to stir it up again. It must have shown on her face, though, because Renata inhaled sharply. “I’ll have Lorenzo stripped of his rank immediately.”

“Thank you.”

“But honestly, did you throw a letter out the window and hire the first person who picked it up?”

“It doesn’t matter how I found him.”

“A stranger shows up at the Cittadella at the Finestra’s side, and you don’t want us to ask any questions?” Tomo scolded gently.

“The guidelines say a Finestra has the right to choose her own security personnel, as long as they’re no relation.” If relations were permitted, she would’ve begged Adrick on day one. Which was why the rule existed in the first place. Cutting ties with one’s previous life didn’t include dragging your twin brother along.

Tomo rubbed his temples. “The troops will be your only defense when Divorando comes, Finestra. If you’re unsure of their fealty, we should take action.”

She wasn’t sure of anyone’s fealty. The only person whose motivations she understood was standing right in front of her. Dante had little chance of surviving Divorando without her, which meant that to him, her life was valuable.

“I will put my complete faith in our troops when it’s time for battle,” Alessa said, looking from Renata to Tomo. “But I’ll focus on my duties better until then, knowing I have someone trustworthy watching my back.”

For years, Alessa had been the figurehead of an army that treated her like a child at best, and an enemy at worst, but now she was in charge of someone. A strong young man who didn’t take a knee for anyone, including the former Finestra and Fonte, and while he wasn’t cowed by her authority either, he did follow her orders. Some of them. Regardless, he worked for her.

Renata sucked in a breath, and Alessa steeled her spine. “He’s an experienced fighter, and I won’t discuss this any further.”

It was first time she’d ever seen Renata speechless.

Rebellion might prove addictive.

Fourteen

Senza tentazioni, senza onore.

Without struggle, there is no glory.

Alessa pinned Dante with a dark glare as Tomo and Renata left.

Leaning against the archway, Dante raised a bright green apple to his lips, entirely nonplussed by the staring war she’d initiated.

“I told you to wait upstairs.”

He shrugged. “I was going to, but it turns out half this place wants you dead, so I figured you could use an escort.”

The only sound was an occasional crunch as he casually chomped away, impervious to her goal of burning holes in his face through force of will.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

Cocking her head to be sure her mentors were out of earshot, Alessa pushed loose dark waves of hair behind her shoulders. “Renata is debating whether to kill me.”

Dante froze, teeth sunk into the fruit’s white flesh. He finished the bite and swallowed. “And?”

“And? That’s all you have to say?”

“If I lay a hand on her, they’ll hang me.”

“Well, you’re safe, because I told her if my death becomes necessary, I’ll do it myself.”

He stared into the distance. “Huh. Then how would I get paid?”

“I cannot believe I am paying you for this.”

He tore another chunk from the apple, garbling his words. “If you wanted a yes ma’am, no ma’am kind of guard, you had plenty to choose from.”

“Oh, I certainly don’t expect that.” She rolled her eyes. “But a little sympathy wouldn’t kill you.”

“Not much can kill me,” he said with a flinty smile. “And sympathy wasn’t in the job description.”

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