We sat like this for some time, then I asked, “What did your father say when you were shooting?”

Tony and Roy — and sometimes Molly — spoke this other language from time to time, but never before when they thought I might hear.

Tony hesitated. “He told me, ‘What will you do when it’s time to protect her? Let her die?’”

I recalled Tony’s nightmare a few months back of me lying cold and still.

“He’s trying to cause me harm and upset in any way he can.” Tony leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he tried to drive me mad.”

That seemed unlikely — but it wouldn’t help to say so. “What language do you and your parents speak?”

This seemed to cheer Tony somewhat. “Italian. We’ve spoken it as long as I can remember.”

“Did your family not teach you Italian?”

My cheeks burned. “I was born in the Spadros Pot, Gardena. I said so at our dinner.”

She blushed. “Forgive me. I meant the Spadros Family.”

Gardena’s comment back in February now made sense. Why would they not teach me?

Ah. For the same reason I didn’t teach Kouri-Vini to Tony. Or why Zia used hand signs with Morton. In case you might be false.

I smiled, thinking of all the secrets held behind spoken walls.

Tony smiled back, and I wondered at his and Gardena’s secret. “Gardena told me her family speaks Italian as well.”

Tony gave a short fond laugh. “Her mother knows many languages.” His face sobered. “Or at least, she used to. But Mrs. Diamond had a passion for pre-Catastrophe cultures, and a notable one was based in Italy.

“I’ve never been there, but she and Gardena went for a whole year when Gardena was fourteen.” He paused, as if in thought. “Or maybe fifteen. I think it was to get her away from the war between our Families.”

This made sense. My mother kept me inside that long year, as men fought and died. I was glad to stay inside, mourn Air’s death. And avoid Roy’s men.

The air smelled of morning as I sat playing jacks near the open doorway. Golden light slanted in, tiny motes of dust dancing in it. Snores filled the air.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Hands grabbed me from behind, and I screamed in terror.

My eyes stung at the sudden memory.

Tony put his face in his hands. He sounded defeated, ashamed. “Which of course, you know of much better than I.”

I moved across from him, took a deep breath, let it out. “It’s of no consequence.”

Tony said nothing. But then, he didn’t need to say anything. There was nothing he could say.

He couldn’t protect me from what I’d already seen and done.

I opened the letter. It was written in a woman’s hand, different from all those I had seen so far:

I will take everything you hold dear, spawn of Spadros: your home, your wife, your family, your bastard heir. Even now your brother lies beaten by my men. I can strike you anywhere, at any time, and it will never stop until I’ve destroyed you.

Brother?

I remembered Dr. Salmon’s tale of Acevedo Spadros II, Roy’s father, his liaison with Tony’s mother Molly, and their plan for her to marry Roy.

I suppose they felt it a good way to move her into the house, to have their affair in front of Mr. Acevedo’s wife without anyone knowing.

I stared at Tony in shock.

Roy was not Tony’s father at all.

“What is it?” Tony said. “What does it say?”

Don’t tell him. I’ll know if you do.

I shook my head. Tony adored the man he thought to be his grandfather. In the Pot, nobody cared who sired a child, but here, it seemed vital. “Believe me: you don’t want to read this.”

Tony let out a bitter laugh. “And my father knew you would read it.”

What will Roy do to Molly? “Oh, gods.”

“What?”

“They mean to destroy your mother, too.”

Fear overwhelmed me: I almost had the carriage turn round. Yet I realized that Roy had this letter for months now. If he meant to harm Molly, he had many chances to do so.

He must have already known of her betrayal.

I crumpled the message, shoved it in my pocket, and put my face in my hands. “You asked what they want. Now I know. They mean harm to everyone, down to your lowest servants. They mean to utterly destroy the Spadros Family.”

Yet a young black-haired woman sent this. Birdie?

That must be one trusted secretary. A female secretary was unusual enough, but the woman must be part of their inmost circle to be allowed this kind of information.

Tony said, “I want nothing more than to read this letter. Yet I fear to do so.”

“He told me he would know if you read it. I believe he would.” What would Tony do if he learned what his mother had done? This could destroy their relationship. “I wish I never had. This is not something you want to see.”

Tony shuddered. “I remember the false note my father got, supposedly from me, and the things it contained. You’re right; I wish to see no more.” He kissed my hands, gripping them tightly. “Why would my father let you read such filth?”

I shrugged. Why indeed. He could have refused to let me read the letter even after I won his little game. “Who knows why Roy Spadros does what he does?”

Tony leaned his elbow on the base of the carriage-window and looked away, hand to his chin. “I meant what I said. I want nothing more to do with him.”

The carriage arrived at Spadros Manor, and we returned to our rooms to change into house clothes. I locked the letter in my drawer before I did anything else, but Morton’s warning loomed ever-present in my mind. I had a safer place for this letter, once Amelia was off on an errand.

This letter gave me great pause. The person who wrote this knew the Spadros Family’s most intimate secrets: Amelia’s violation, Molly’s affair. Yet instead of making these things public, they taunted Roy with the knowledge.

Who would feel safe enough — or was mad enough — to taunt Roy Spadros?