Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(7)

“Do not ruin this for us,” Kamon had warned him.

Cayo prepared himself for an uncomfortable dinner. Gen Hizon sat across from Soria, occasionally meeting her gaze before looking away again, shy. He seemed altogether too moody and quiet for someone like Cayo’s sister, and Cayo held no real affection for him. But Soria seemed content with the match, and he had even caught her and Gen walking through the garden a couple of weeks ago, his sister holding on to Gen’s arm.

Tonight, though, Soria wasn’t herself. She was likely nervous now that the duke and duchess were there to evaluate her. Cayo didn’t blame her; he could feel their judgmental stares across the table and did his best to hide his face behind one of the flower vases.

Thankfully, his father kept them busy with talk of the current political rumors drifting through Moray. Cayo thought back to the ship with purple sails and wondered how long it would take for the city to find out who owned it. As he made his way through the first course, a light stew of scallops, clams, and fried sage, his mind returned to the events of the day. The first mate. The smell of death. Sébastien.

Had he been too harsh with him? He had been furious at the time, but now…Cayo knew what it was like to be in that position. To turn every corner expecting a knife to slide between his ribs.

He heard his name and looked up to find everyone staring at him. Duchess Hizon was studying him over her wineglass, her painted lips puckered. It emphasized the wrinkles around her mouth, two deep trenches on either side of a battleground.

“The duchess was kind enough to inquire about your work at the harbor,” Kamon murmured beside him. Only Cayo recognized the warning under his words.

Do not ruin this for us.

Cayo inclined his head to the duchess. “It was quite busy, Your Grace. My father has many ships in his employ, as I’m sure you know. Overseeing them is no small feat.”

He risked a glance at his father, who dipped his chin slightly. Good.

“And what exactly is it you do to oversee them?” the duchess asked, swirling her wine with a practiced hand.

It was an innocent enough question, but he knew better. This was a test. So Cayo carefully explained the process of unloading and sorting inventory, as well as all the numbers involved in bookkeeping. Soria, who had been in quiet conversation with Gen, fell silent at his side, but she wasn’t quite listening to him. She was mostly staring at her plate, their soup exchanged for small game hens cooked with rosemary and honey and topped with a hibiscus sauce.

“Good thing you have a young buck like this to help out at the docks,” the duke said with a low laugh. “I imagine it’s difficult to spend all day in the sun at your age, Kamon.”

“Indeed.”

“Better that than wandering the city like a scoundrel,” the duchess muttered into her wineglass.

Cayo tensed. He felt his father tense as well. Soria kept her head down, picking at her hen.

The duke laughed that low laugh again. “I believe what my wife is saying is that it’s good for young Lord Mercado to be in an honest line of work.”

“I quite agree,” said Kamon, though his voice was strained.

Cayo tightened his hold on his fork but said nothing. Under the table, Soria found his other hand and squeezed. Her skin was clammy with nerves.

When dessert finally came—coconut and brown-sugar rice cakes with a pineapple coulis—one of the kitchen staff came to ask Kamon to select the after-dinner port. Panic swept over Cayo when his father left. The Hizons were eyeing him like two vultures about to pounce on the same scrap of meat.

“I’ll go help him,” he blurted, scraping back his chair.

He caught his breath in the hall. His heart had been racing since seeing Sébastien. He still couldn’t get his face out of his thoughts, nor the terror in his words.

Bas, you fool.

His father was already making his way back toward the dining room. Seeing Cayo, he frowned.

“You’re supposed to be entertaining our guests,” he said.

“I needed some air,” Cayo said. “Father, I…I have something I wanted to ask you.”

Kamon crossed his arms, head lowering. It was the stance Cayo had come to call the Negotiator.

“What do you want?”

“I was wondering if I could get a larger stipend per month. It doesn’t have to be much, it just—What’s so funny?”

Because his father was laughing softly, incredulously, while swinging his head side to side. “That didn’t take long, did it?”

“What do you mean?”

Kamon pressed his lips together, white with suppressed fury. “What happened to your month’s allowance, Cayo?”

Cayo hesitated. “I gave it to a friend. He—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Kamon snarled. “I should have known that as soon as you had a few drinas in your pocket you’d go back to the tables.”

Cayo flushed hot all over, his headache returning with a vengeance. “I haven’t gone to any of the gambling halls in months! You can go to the Vice Sector yourself and ask around.”

“Even if that’s true, how am I supposed to know you won’t eventually go back to your old habits?”

“I’ve been clean for six months,” Cayo said through clenched teeth. “When are you going to trust me?”