House of Pounding Hearts (The Kingdom of Crows #2)(77)

“Sky.” She points to the word adh, then underlines the word fin. “Wine.”

Of-bloody-course, it’s not pronounced the way it’s written. What would be the fun in that when one can pepper vowels at random with accents and declare that the coupling of two consonants create an entirely new one?

“Crows are such devious creatures, Aoife.”

“Why say that?”

“Because . . .” I tap my own pen over the vellum, sprinkling it with ink. “If anyone comes across a written note, there is no way they’d make heads or tails of the contents since Crow doesn’t sound like it’s written.”

She smiles, and there’s pride in that smile. “I do not know if that was intent, but I hope it was.”

Although far from fluent, my knowledge of Crow has expanded thanks to Colm, a bear of a man who happens to be as sweet as cotton candy. When Aoife didn’t show, I asked if he’d dispense the lessons. Thanks to him, I can now compose short sentences. Syb, too, since she usually stays for my daily lessons.

Unless Mattia is home. Then she deserts me. I suppose I would desert me, too, considering the quiet sailor is apparently a god in the sack, caring more about her pleasure than his own.

My chest prickles every time she tells me, not out of jealousy, but out of disappointment that my one and only experience was so . . . disenchanting.

However hard I attempt to repress the thought, I cannot keep myself from wondering if Dante didn’t bother pleasuring me because I wasn’t worth the effort. After all, he neither needed to impress nor seduce me.

I shake these glum thoughts out of my mind as Aoife explains how to conjugate verbs in the present tense.

As she dips the pen in the ink well, I finally cave and ask, “Have the missing Crows still not been located, Aoife?”

“They were found long time ago.”

Both of us startle at the answer. I’m guessing not for the same reasons.

She slaps her palm over her mouth. “Me and big mouth.”

If they’ve been found, then why hasn’t Lore returned like he promised he would? Well, more like threatened he would. Why hasn’t he answered any of the questions I’ve tossed into his mind? Why hasn’t he let me mind-walk? Gods know I’ve tried.

I swipe the tip of my tongue over my teeth, reasoning that he’s possibly just found them. Done with assumptions, I ask, “When?”

“When what?”

“When did he find them?”

“I not supposed to discuss Crow matters here.” She crinkles her nose.

“Here or with me?”

“Here. You Crow, so you fine to hear.”

Although it warms my heart that she, unlike her sister, considers me one of them, I cannot help but lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “When were they found, Aoife?”

“Why matters?”

“Please tell me when.”

She sighs. “The night they disappear.”

Her confession loosens the knot of my arms, making them flop onto the armrests.

That was . . . that was five days ago!

I grip the wood so hard, it’s a wonder I don’t pulverize it like Lore did to my bedroom armchair the night I—

The night I thought—

The night I—

Gods, I cannot even think of that night without wanting to scream.

Aoife’s brow furrows. “Why so upset, Fallon?” Her voice is soft like Marcello’s when he was trying to lead Sybille away from the brink of a tantrum.

Although I’d prefer to worry about him and Defne, my mind and heart are wholly focused on Lore.

Since I cannot tell Aoife about his promise threat of a long talk, I say, “I just expected him to check on Antoni and the rest of the rebels, that’s all.”

“Oh. He busy in Glace. Finaling alliance.” Again, she smacks her palm across her mouth. “Shoot. I not supposed to talk about that, too.”

After starting and stopping a great many times, my heart turns quiet. What is it they say about insanity? Oh right, it’s doing the same thing twice while expecting a different outcome.

I fell for Dante, and he jilted me. I will not fall for another man whose promises and actions diverge.

I harden my heart, turning it into a block of obsidian that no one—especially a Crow—will ever be able to soften.

She mistakes my murky mood for confusion. “We need Glacin army, Fallon.”

“How do you say ass in Crow?”

“Animal or body part?”

“Body part.”

“Tàin.”

I repeat the word, and spittle flies out of my mouth because it is positively guttural. “Tawhhn.” Such a fitting sound.

A crooked smile bends her lips. “Should I be teaching insults?”

“Oh, you should. I want to learn them all.”

“I do, too!” Syb exclaims, bustling into the room, a large, glossy shopping bag swinging from her arm.

“You picked up our dresses for the gilding revel?”

“They weren’t ready yet.” At my frown, she says, “Eponine agreed to meet for dinner, but she insists we all wear headpieces. You know, so no one can identify us.”

I cannot help but wonder if by us, she means me. After all, I’m enemy of the kingdom number one and she is the crowned princess. We may have gone shopping together, but we were inside a boutique. Hanging out in public is a completely different story.