Lia is still standing directly in front of him. There’s a mixture of fear and curiosity in her eyes. When he turns back to her, lifts her hand, and brushes his lips across her knuckles, I have to remind myself that I’m a chained man. I can’t drive my fist into his face for touching a maid, especially not with those watching.
His eyes flick to Marco and then to me.
“She’s part of the storm now. Whether you want her to be or not.”
Something in his tone snaps Marco’s restraint. He marches forward, and his fist connects with Cassian’s jaw before I can say a word. Cassian staggers a few steps back as Marco moves in to punch him again. I don’t move to stop him. Lia turns to look at me, and there’s an unreadable emotion in her eyes.
The loud grunt and collision of the two men draw even more attention to us. Gasps ripple behind us as people see what’s happening. Heads turn to look at the scene. Across the room, I spot Silvia watching the scene with something burning deep in her eyes. I see my father’s eyes narrow.
Cassian straightens slowly. Blood trails down from his lip, but he doesn’t look angry. He looks… pleased.
When he smiles, his teeth are stained with blood.
“Your violence won’t stop what has already begun. It won’t stop the prophecy?—”
I don’t realize I’m moving until my hand clasps firmly on Cassian’s shoulder.
“Get out,” I grit under my breath. “And I don’t want to see you step foot in this house again.”
My grip on his shoulder tightens, and I see a pained expression he tries so hard to hide cross his features.
When I let him go, he massages his shoulders, spares the small crowd that has gathered a small smile before turning and walking off, humming to himself.
I see Marco explaining the situation and trying to disperse the crowd. My eyes dart around as I look for Lia. When I find her, she’s standing frozen, her hands shaking slightly as she picks up the tray that fell to the ground.
“Are you all right?” I ask her.
She doesn’t answer.
I want to reach for her, but Silvia is walking toward us.
Lia bends her head in a small bow as Silvia comes to stand by my side. Then she rushes out of the room.
“What is it about her?” Silvia asks the moment she walks away. “That servant girl. The other night at dinner, I didn’t want to interfere. But now?—”
“She’s the daughter of a traitor,” I interrupt before she finishes. “She’s not like the other servants.”
“Is that it?” Silvia asks, her eyes flashing. “I see the way you look at her, Francesco. She’s not just the daughter of a traitor to you.”
When I don’t answer, she huffs and walks away.
And I realize that whatever Cassian meant… I fear he’s right.
Something has already begun. And there’s no stopping it now.
15
LIA
The house has fallen quiet. Too quiet.
It is the morning after Francesco’s engagement ceremony, and there’s no laughter or music. There’s no clinking of glasses, no strange man following me down the halls to tell me weird things.
Yet, I still feel the weight of everything that happened last night hanging in the air around me.
The candles have burned low. The guests have returned to their various destinations, save for a few of them still lingering, talking amongst themselves. I wish they would all just disappear.
I keep my head down as Marta hands me a fresh set of linens and tells me to clean the guest rooms in the east wing. The hallways leading to the east wing smell like incense and smoke. There’s something else lingering in the air too. Fear.