“Maybe we should get Dante,” I suggest quietly, trying to draw down the volume of Jost’s voice so we aren’t overheard.
Before we can talk Jost out of it, he’s bounded down the stairs to the main floor of the house. It doesn’t take long for us to hear the shrieking castigations coming from the assembly room.
“Yes, sir,” a guard says.
“This is poor form. What will my guests think?” Kincaid squeaks.
“He’s prepared to make amends for his … mistake,” the guard says.
“Oh, amends will be made,” Kincaid says.
For a moment we hang back, but something pushes me forward.
“Adelice,” Kincaid croons when I get close enough for him to see me. “I have been informed of what happened. In fact, I was about to send for you.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting. It was rude of me,” I say, “but I was hoping you had learned why he attacked me.”
“The boy is new, came in with a refugee group only a few weeks ago,” Kincaid says. “He had an introduction letter and everything. Standard protocol for someone who has come in through our contacts in Arras.”
“You should reconsider your contacts in Arras,” Jost says.
I put my hand on his arm as much to calm him as to warn him to be careful what he says to Kincaid.
“Deniel,” Kincaid says, “is going to be seriously punished.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “I’d like to know why he did it, but I don’t want him to be hurt.”
“I want him to be hurt,” Jost says.
“You should listen to your friend,” Kincaid says. “It’s not sensible to allow a man like this to prowl around.”
“And”—comes a voice to my left—“it’s important everyone gets the same message.”
I turn to Dante and stare at him. “Which is?”
“You aren’t to be touched.”
I follow Dante’s gaze to see it burning into Kincaid. His words are fiercely protective, and it feels strange. It’s not something I welcome exactly. Jost might treat me like I’m breakable, but his actions are rooted in his loss of Rozenn, something I’m only beginning to understand. Dante barely knows me though. He can’t turn on fatherly emotions like that. I don’t want him to.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Kincaid says from behind me. His voice is low and even, not his usual airy, bouncing tone. “None of my guests are to be touched…”
“We can put him in the cells until—” the guard begins.
But Kincaid waves off the suggestion and gestures for him to be silent by raising his hand merely inches from his face. “I want Adelice to sleep tonight. How can she if definitive action isn’t taken now?”
“I’m fine,” I say, but I know I’ll ask Jost to stay the night. Then I’ll be able to sleep.
“Bring him into the gardens,” Kincaid says, ignoring my input. The guard nods and walks a few steps away to use his complant more quietly.
“And how do you plan to make her feel safe after this?” Dante asks Kincaid, coming into the hall’s light. He’s dressed in a thin tank-style shirt and soft flannel pajama bottoms. His shirt reveals a techprint on his biceps—three braided bands circling his arm.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be pleased,” Kincaid says.
“Your defenses were penetrated. This may not be the only threat. I’d like permission to investigate further.” Dante isn’t asking him.
Kincaid’s jaw twitches, but his mask of authority stays in place. “That won’t be necessary. I assure you that your daughter is my priority. Remember that.”
My eyes fly to Dante. How could he have told Kincaid? Dante claimed it would be a secret until I decided I wanted to share the information, if that day ever came. But Dante looks confused. He has no more idea how Kincaid found out than I do. I consider how quickly security responded to my screams when Deniel attacked me. They couldn’t have heard me unless they were watching me.
Which means it isn’t Dante’s fault that our secret is out. It’s mine.
FIFTEEN
SOMEONE LAYS A THICK FUR COAT OVER my shoulders after Kincaid announces that the punishment will transpire in the garden. I turn, expecting to see Jost behind me, but it’s Jax. I haven’t seen him since our first day here. He doesn’t speak now, but he gives me a resolved nod as he slips to the back of the security team that’s amassing for Kincaid’s verdict. With the lighting system dimmed, the chill outdoors is reminiscent of the Icebox, without the lurking, shifting shadows. There’s no need for me to watch the corners and hidden spaces around the plants and fountain; the monster is in plain sight now, no longer able to hide.
Deniel is dragged across the uneven masonry of the brick path, his knees scraping against the rough surface, but he doesn’t speak or cry out. He keeps his head low, his ink-black hair falling over his eyes. When the guards bring him to Kincaid’s feet, they drop him there and one nudges Deniel’s head up with his knee. I gasp at the sight of the man’s bloodied mouth and crooked nose. It looks like the guards have already put him through some significant punishment before they brought him to Kincaid.
“Who do you work for?” Kincaid asks in a singsongy voice. The amusement in it isn’t lost on me.
Kincaid is enjoying this.
Deniel doesn’t respond to the question. Instead he lolls forward again, his head drooping to his chest. Kincaid snaps his fingers and one of the guards bends forward, taking Deniel’s chin forcefully into his hand and jerking it up.
“I’m waiting.”
“No one.” Deniel’s answer oozes slowly from him, and I notice how swollen his cheekbone is. It balloons out, swallowing the space around his eye and forcing it shut.
“Let’s try that again,” Kincaid says.
I barely make out the guard’s fingers tightening, but Deniel strains against the force, clawing at the hand that holds him.
“You could have had a fine life here, son,” Kincaid tells him. “The Guild forced you to run because of your ability, but while the Guild abuses Tailors, I value them. I would have valued you.”
Apparently the time for secrecy has passed. Dante isn’t the only Tailor on the estate. It seems Kincaid collects them.
Deniel tries to splutter something against the guard’s hand, but Kincaid continues. “The time for excuses has passed. You have betrayed my trust.”
“What’s going on?” Valery says, her voice elevated a decibel sharper than normal. She flies into the courtyard, her silk dressing robe rippling behind her. It’s loosely bound by a sash at her waist, and it does little to hide her flawless lithe figure, which does a lot to distract Kincaid.
“Darling, go back to bed. I’ll join you soon,” Kincaid assures her.
“I can’t sleep,” she says, crossing her arms against her chest. “What are you doing to Deniel?”
“Deniel attacked Adelice.”
I can’t help wondering why Valery even cares, but she swoops down to Deniel and stares him in the eye. How does she know him? If he’s new here, as Kincaid said earlier, I can’t imagine their paths crossing. I’ve rarely seen Valery out of her chambers except for dinners. Now she lingers before Deniel as if she’s trying to tell him something, but then her words come freely, in front of us.
“This is how you repay my kindness.” Accusation drips like poison from her words.
Deniel hesitates, still staring Valery in the eye. “We have our parts to play.”
Valery doesn’t respond. She rises up and turns to Kincaid. “I assure you I had no idea he was a traitor when I brought him here.”
“You know him?” The question sputters from my lips before I can stop it.
Valery winces, but taking a deep breath, she turns to me. “He was a refugee. We met fleeing Arras, and I
