Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(48)

Once they were alone, Romara draped an arm above her head and sipped at her drink, gazing at him like a hawk sizing up a mouse. Her black-and-purple dress spilled across the chaise in a waterfall of silk and tulle, and she was barefoot, her black heels discarded haphazardly on the rug below. Her eyes were rimmed in kohl that winged out into sharp points.

“I know you’re here because you don’t want to get married,” she finally said. “But just so you know, I have every intention of having this wedding.”

Cayo was momentarily struck speechless. Out of everything he had expected her to say, that had been at the very bottom of the list. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you’re playing the prim-and-proper boy now, are you?” She revealed her teeth in a grin. “Have you been spending too much time with your dear daddy?”

“Looks like you’ve been doing the same,” he muttered, glancing at the vacated seats. He was stalling for time, trying to wrap his head around this new direction.

“I don’t need that fool to tell me how to make a name for myself,” she said. “I can do that just fine on my own. In fact, it’s why I need this wedding to happen.”

Cayo crossed his arms. “I thought neither of us wanted that. That we were going to play along until we found a way out of it. Or did I misunderstand?”

“You didn’t misunderstand anything.” She sat up slowly, making sure her drink didn’t spill. “I merely changed my mind.”

“But why?”

“Because Daddy Dearest is playing a game with me, too. I didn’t see it at first, but now I know the stakes. If I marry you”—she stuffed a hand into her décolletage and pulled out an iron key—“then I get the key to the business. Literally.”

That explained her growing number of followers. But more importantly, Cayo had finally found an opportunity: He had to get that key from her. It no doubt led to the Slum King’s office, where he could find all sorts of incriminating evidence.

He watched as Romara shoved the key into a pocket, immensely thankful she hadn’t put it back in its original holding place. Putting on his dimpled smile again, he sat next to her.

“If that’s the case, then I agree with you,” he said. “We should go through with it.”

She gave him a skeptical look, sipping again at her drink. “What’s with the eagerness all of a sudden?”

“Profit,” he said, shrugging. “If you become the next Slum King, then as your husband I’d get a cut of your earnings. You already know that my family’s purse strings are drawn tighter than they used to be.”

She hummed in thought. “And in exchange, I get more status among the gentry.”

“Exactly. It’s a win-win situation.” Cayo tapped back into the flirtatious manner that used to come so naturally to him and leaned into her, wrapping an arm around her waist. He rested a hand on her hip. “We could be the most powerful couple in Moray,” he whispered into her ear, his lips skimming the outer shell. “We could run this entire city.”

Romara shivered at the prospect. Cayo sat back, still maintaining his smile. She was flushed, but not from his embrace—from the promise of power at her fingertips.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement, Cayo,” she said, breathless. “And to think, here I was worried you would be shaking in your shoes.”

“I’m craftier than I look.”

“So I’m learning.” She lifted her glass to his lips. He obediently took a sip of the fiery drink before she took one of her own. “Here’s to tearing apart our fathers’ legacies.”

“May it be swift,” he added, feeling the impression of the key within his fist.





The sun and the moon play an eternal game,

A celestial chase, one after another,

Never knowing the tricks they play,

Never knowing each fools the other.

—FROM “THE LIGHTS OF THE NORTH,” A REHANESE POEM



The garden was still littered with party debris. The hanging lanterns waved gently in the sea breeze, some having fallen into bushes or onto the ground. Glasses had been left on tables, several only half-drunk, and an errant garland had drifted into the pool to float forlorn and forgotten.

If the estate had been properly staffed, Amaya supposed that all this would have been taken care of already. As it was, she only had a small detail of spies and a crew of children at her disposal. She herself had been too preoccupied to do any cleaning, especially since meeting with Cayo Mercado a couple of days ago at Laelia’s.

He had mentioned something about confronting the past to prevent history from repeating itself. Since then, she had become obsessed with the list of debt collectors taken from Zharo’s apartment, now her only link to figure out what had truly happened.

She looked to the list she had brought out here with her, weighted down with a rock so it wouldn’t fly away. The inked words glared up at her, almost taunting her.

Amaya had had Liesl reach out to all the listed debt collectors under the guise that the countess had an important, undisclosed job that needed doing, and she was searching for the right candidate. In reality, Amaya would use the countess’s influence in order to get at the heart of what she wanted: information about why she had been sold all those years ago.