This Vicious Grace (The Last Finestra #1)(41)

They faltered at the sight of Alessa and Dante.

“Oh, hello there,” Alessa said. “Didn’t realize the library was being used.”

Josef gripped Nina’s hand. “Finestra. How is Signor Miyamoto doing?”

“Good.” She nodded. “He’s good. Awake, feeling much better. He has these spells often, I’m afraid, and with the excitement…” She bit her lip. “Anyway, please tell the others he sends his best, but he won’t be able to attend our training in the morning. I’ve asked the kitchen staff to send something up so there’s no need to dress for dinner.”

Nina wouldn’t meet her eye, but Josef thanked Alessa, then cleared his throat. “We know it’s not your fault,” he said. “All of this. I just want you to know that we don’t blame you. I—I don’t blame you.”

Alessa swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

Josef bowed and ushered Nina toward the Fonte suite.

If she could have walked down the stairs and out the front gate, Alessa would have kept going until she reached the farthest edge of Saverio, but the library would have to do.

Josef didn’t blame her. For Tomo? Or for Ilsi? Either way, she blamed herself enough for the both of them.

Alessa stepped inside the dim library, lost in thought, and nearly collided with Kaleb.

He jumped back, the whites of his eyes stark in his face. “Shit, you had to listen to that, too?”

Alessa massaged her chest above her pounding heart. “Were you spying on them?”

“No. I was looking for something to drink.” Kaleb held up a crystal decanter he must have swiped from the credenza. “But the star-crossed lovers showed up, and I got stuck listening to their whining. Were you spying on them?”

“Of course not.” Alessa gritted her teeth. “I forbid you to mock them about this.”

“Oh, don’t get your gloves twisted.” Kaleb’s sneer didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll finish this bottle and burn it from my brain.”

He bumped Dante on his way out.

Alessa clenched her fists. “Do you think he’ll tease them?”

“Probably. He’s been a pain in the ass since he got here. Doubt he’ll change now.”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” Alessa rolled her eyes. “People can’t change.”

“I said people don’t change.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.” Dante tapped the credenza. “You didn’t tell me there was a stash of the good stuff in here.”

“Most of it is ancient rather than aged.”

“Chi ha bisogno s’arrenda,” he said with a wink.

She shook her head with a faint smile, making a note to look that one up. Too restless to sit, she grasped the rungs of a rolling ladder mounted against a wall of bookshelves and began to climb.

At a rustle of movement below, she peered down at Dante. “Are you trying to look up my skirts?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m making sure it doesn’t take off and drop you on your ass. I don’t feel like catching you.”

“Oh, Dante,” she crooned. “You do know how to make a girl’s heart flutter.”

He smirked. “If I was trying to make you flutter, you’d know it.”

She dropped the book, aiming for his aggravatingly gorgeous face, but she knew he’d catch it regardless.

“The Siege of Avalin,” he read, holding the ladder in place with his foot so he could open the book.

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, if that doesn’t capture the mood of the evening.” Of all the books in the Cittadella, she’d pulled out an account of the one Divorando that Saverio almost didn’t survive.

“The Finestra who panicked, right?”

“Yep. Ran back to the city and tried to hide. The Fortezza was breached, rivers of blood ran through the streets, hundreds were massacred before his Fonte coaxed him back to the peak. Oh, take my advice and skip chapter seven.”

Dante promptly flipped to chapter seven, because of course he did. “‘The Orphans Left Behind.’ Nothing compared to waterfalls of blood or whatever you said. Orphans means they were lucky enough to survive, at least.”

“And is surviving always better?”

“Point taken.”

“It’s not the worst chapter, just the saddest. They put the babies in group homes, and within months, most stopped crying and refused to eat.” She blinked away tears. “Only one group thrived.”

She climbed down, turning to lean against the ladder, but Dante was too close and too tall, so she found the lowest rung of the ladder and pushed up on her toes, as if he wouldn’t notice she’d suddenly grown six inches.

Dante’s eyes twinkled at her sudden height and he stepped back. “And?”

Alessa hopped to the ground. “And?… Oh, the babies. Right. The girl caring for them had lost her entire family in the siege, so she held them all the time. Singing to them, rocking them, talking to them. Mostly just holding them. That was all it took. Everyone thought they needed food and shelter, but touch was what they needed most. Without it, the other babies simply gave up.”

Dante bit his lip. “And you know how they felt.”

She flushed. “Not entirely, but I can relate. That’s all.”