Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(61)

His only advantage was that he knew her loyalty to her father was stretched thin. The fact that she was beginning to cultivate her own followers was proof enough that there was a low chance of her repeating what he said to Salvador.

So he met her hawklike gaze and said, “Your father is making and distributing counterfeit money.”

He had the unique pleasure of catching her by surprise. Her thin eyebrows shot upward, stretching the wings of kohl at the corners of her eyes.

“Counterfeit,” she repeated blandly.

Cayo dug into his pocket and took out the black disc that had masqueraded as a sena. He extended it to her, and she picked it up with her long, filed fingernails as if it were a used napkin.

“Sébastien figured it out,” he whispered. “He saw this coin dissolve in alcohol and realized what it was. Then the Slum King punished him to keep him quiet.” He glanced again at the jar and suppressed a shudder. “Think about it. Your father has a lot to gain by manufacturing his own coin. He has the resources and the connections for it.”

Romara studied the black disc for a silent minute. Cayo realized then that she looked the most composed he had seen her in a while. There were no tears in her dress, and she didn’t smell like alcohol. Was she doing it for her new followers? Was she finally beginning to put away the messy, violent girl she wanted everyone to believe she was?

Then she dropped the disc onto the desk between them. “It’s cute how you’re playing detective and all,” she said, “but my father isn’t involved in this.”

Disappointment shot through him like a harpoon; maybe she was more loyal than he’d bet on. “How can you know for certain? You don’t know everything about your father or the business he does. Out of everyone in Moray, he’s the best equipped to get away with this.”

She placed her hands flat on the desk and leaned in, a wry smile twisting her dark lips. “You think I don’t know everything about his business because I’m…what, younger? Because I’m a woman? Because I’m his precious only daughter?”

“I never said that. I mean, hells, I don’t know everything about my father’s business!”

“You might want to correct that,” she said with an earnestness he found not a little disturbing. “Unlike you, I’ve done everything in my power to make sure I know my father’s every move. His every. Single. Move.” She leaned in closer. “I know things that would make your delicate little self toss and turn at night. I know things that would make you hurl up your guts in the back alley. But there is nothing—nothing—about manufacturing counterfeit coins.”

Cayo couldn’t find the words to reply. Just a couple of hours ago he had been full of light, but now that familiar darkness was stealing over him, disappointment and terror clasping hands.

If he couldn’t bring any evidence in to Nawarak, how else was he going to fix things?

“Normally intruders would be severely dealt with, but seeing as you’re my fiancé, I’ll let you go this once,” Romara said, straightening. She gestured to the door. “You better go before my father decides you’d look prettier without a finger or two.”

Cayo clenched his hands into fists, but he was powerless again. Romara had the winning hand this time.

On his way to the door, she lunged at him. He grunted as his back hit the wall, and it took him a moment to realize she had pinned his jacket to the wood with a knife; where she had hidden it until then, he had no idea.

With her free hand, she rummaged in his pockets until she found her key. She held it before his eyes, smiling sweetly as his face heated. She kissed the warm metal and pressed it to his lips.

“Don’t ever steal from me again,” she whispered. She yanked her knife out of the wall and stepped back. “By the way, do you like black lilies?”

Cayo forced himself not to scramble for the doorknob as he turned to her in confusion. She was twirling her knife absently, watching him with a keenness that almost made him feel naked.

“I’ve ordered about ten thousand for the wedding,” she explained. “They’re my favorite. I heard they were your mother’s too.”

Heat stole through his chest and stomach as he yanked the door open. “Fuck you.”

“Wait.” She caught his wrist. Stabbing the knife into the wall again, she used her free hand to draw something out of her own pocket: a vial of cloudy liquid. She pressed it into his hand.

“For your sister,” she said.

Cayo stared at her. The amount of medicine in his hand likely cost a thousand senas, at least.

She shifted uncomfortably at the look in his eyes, turning her head away. “It’s my dowry, remember?” she muttered. “Now go.”

He hesitated, wondering how to thank her. Wondering if she even deserved thanks. In the end, he only shook his head and hurried down the hall, eager to remove himself from this crimson nightmare.



Narin tried to stop him as he crossed the threshold of the house.

“My lord, you received correspondence from Countess Yamaa,” the footman said as he trotted after him. “She’s invited you to dinner at her estate tomorr—”

“I’ll get to it later,” Cayo threw over his shoulder, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Although the countess’s name sent a thrill of excitement through him, he couldn’t think about her now, not when his sister needed him.