Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(6)

As he watched, a seagull plucked out and ate its eyes.



Mercado Manor was like a pearl rising from the bed of an oyster, all white and gold and gleaming. It rested on a gentle hill that overlooked the Merchant Sector, which gradually gave way to the harbor and Crescent Bay, flanked on either side by flora and the tall, spidery forms of palm trees.

By the time Cayo’s carriage rattled up to the entrance, the sun was mostly gone and the bay gleamed purplish blue. He stiffly emerged from the carriage, sore and a little sunburned.

The footman came out to greet him. “Good evening, sir. We expected you home much sooner.”

“I know, I know.” Cayo hurried past, the footman keeping up behind him. “I was held up.”

“A change of clothes has been laid out on your bed, and there’s a basin ready for you to wash before dinner.”

“Bless you.”

Cayo took the front entrance stairs two at a time, passing under the jutting balcony supported by fat, curling columns of white marble. The iron chandelier above was already lit warmly for the night.

Bursting into the antechamber, he made to run for the stairs when he caught sight of his father on his way to the dining room. Kamon Mercado raised a hand that forced Cayo to skid to a breathless halt before him.

It was easy to see why the workers were skeptical of Cayo when they compared him to someone like Kamon. Tall, handsome, and stern-faced, he was a man who looked used to command. When he wore his finest blue suit and slicked his hair back, it was impossible to ignore the aura of power around him.

Kamon, his hand still raised as if needing to keep the mayhem of Cayo as far from him as possible, looked his son up and down.

“You reek,” his father said. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“I know, I’m sorry. There was a mix-up down at the—”

“Excuses don’t matter. Get changed, quickly, and come down to meet the Hizons. They’ll be here any minute.”

Cayo’s boots squeaked against the gold-veined marble of the antechamber as he hurried up the stairs. Soria was already descending, an amused tilt to her mouth after watching the exchange. His sister was lovely in a gown of sea-foam green, the waist swathed in green ribbon and her shoulders covered with a small jacket of cream lace. Her long black hair had been half pulled up, the rest of it cascading down her back in elegant waves. She’d even applied glittering powder above the hoods of her eyes, teardrop-shaped and dark like his own.

“Is that a Vritha design?” he asked. He recognized the seamstress’s style in the jacket and the scalloped hem.

“I thought it would be appropriate for tonight,” she said, spreading the skirt of the dress as if to curtsy. “Not too much, not too little. Subtle.”

“It works. Next to you I feel like a dirty shoe.”

“Whose fault is that?” his sister said with a playful wrinkle of her nose. Despite her light tone, Cayo noticed she was pale.

“Are you nervous?”

Soria bit the inside of her cheek. She was only sixteen, but when she did that she seemed much younger.

“A little,” she whispered. “I’ve been faint all day.”

“It’ll be all right.” He took her hand and squeezed. “They’ll love you. Impossible not to.”

Kamon cleared his throat loudly, and they both started. Soria gave Cayo a small, crooked smile before continuing down the stairs.

He didn’t even bother to shut the door to his rooms before stripping and pulling on his good suit. He washed his face and combed his hair, then sprayed a good amount of Ladyswoon over himself, hoping to cover up the smell of sweat and salt.

By the time Cayo returned downstairs, the Hizons had arrived. Kamon and Soria stood at the front to greet them.

“Ah, and here is young Lord Mercado,” said Duke Hizon. He was a portly man of Rehanese ancestry, by the look of his light brown skin, curved eyes, and thick black hair. He, like his wife and son, wore his best: a black suit with a purple silk undershirt, complete with a traditional Rehanese wrap over his shoulder. His son, Gen, was dressed similarly, while Duchess Hizon wore a Rehanese-style dress of purple silk with a high collar. “Enjoy making an entrance, do you?”

“On a cloud of cologne,” the duchess added sotto voce, delicately waving her hand before her nose.

Cayo forced a breathless laugh. “You caught me, Your Grace.” He added a little bow. “I hope it was to your liking.”

His father flashed him an annoyed look before showing the Hizons to the dining room. Cayo scowled at their backs; Soria saw and hid a laugh behind her gloved hand.

Cayo took a seat between his father and sister at the long mahogany dining table and immediately guzzled his water, parched from long hours in the sun. He didn’t need to turn his head to know that Kamon was glaring at him again. One of the dining staff quickly came forward with a pitcher to refill his glass; he made sure to take more respectable sips this time.

“We almost have the deal cinched,” his father had told him last night, after looking through his ledgers. “The Hizons are one of the oldest families of Moray and acquainted with the prince. Once your sister marries the duke’s son, she’ll have a higher status and access to the Hizon fortune. We only need to secure her dowry and set the date.”

He had stared at Cayo then, his face hard and unreadable. It was difficult to find in him the man his mother had once loved, difficult to remember a time his father had actually smiled.