The Gilded Wolves (The Gilded Wolves, #1)(44)

“Fine. But what about weapons?” asked Enrique. “We can’t just stroll in armed to the teeth.”

“True,” said Zofia, frowning.

“I don’t know how you’ll get around that,” sighed Hypnos. “First, the matriarch of House Kore has to throw the party to keep up appearances, but she isn’t taking any chances on security after the theft of her Ring. Second, the entrances will all have verit stone, so weapons will be useless. Third, the Sphinxes will be present.”

At this, Laila grinned.

She winked. “Trust in cake.”

Séverin nodded, knowing exactly what Laila had been working on to bypass House Kore’s security.

But Hypnos looked horrified. “Have a care for my figure, ma chère.”

It was a silly throwaway comment that had nothing to do with Laila’s plans. And maybe because of that, it stole a laugh out of Séverin. Behind Hypnos, Tristan looked stricken.

Séverin’s flash of humor crumpled.

He’d promised Tristan the Order would not touch them.

Now look at them … Hypnos reaching for a cookie from the plate of treats Laila had made. Hypnos grinning with his two asymmetrical dimples, a smile that Séverin remembered since their childhood. Hypnos sitting among them … making them laugh even as Séverin wore that oath tattoo like a dagger pressed to the heart.

Hypnos took a bite of cookie and nodded approvingly at Laila. “Good plan! Now we can all—”

Cold washed over Séverin. “There is no ‘we.’”

The four members of his team exchanged glances of confusion.

He would have to be clearer. “Hypnos,” he said. “You’re employing our services for shared gain. You’re not one of us.”

Slowly, Hypnos put down the rest of the cookie. His gaze shuttered. When he stood, he didn’t look at them, choosing instead to brush invisible crumbs from his fine suit.

“Seeing as we’re in a business arrangement, I am privy to information about your progress and will continue to inquire about it,” he said tightly. “I will see you in three days’ time at the Chateau de la Lune. Oh, and Séverin—you have never been on the inside of an Order festivity, have you?”

Hypnos knew he hadn’t. If anything, it was a well-placed jab that he was on the inside while Séverin would always be the orphan circling for a way in. There was no point affirming Hypnos with a spoken answer.

“I should warn you now. It will be as if your eyes are seeing for the first time,” said Hypnos, smiling slowly. “And, if you fail at the tasks at hand or get caught, the last time too.”





PART III


Letter from Matriarch Delphine Desrosiers of House Kore to her sister, Countess Odette, upon her initiation to the Order of Babel

Dear sister,

I so look forward to meeting my new nephew when you come to visit! You asked how I feel having been entrusted with our family’s lineage, and I confess I feel a mixture of emotions. I feel awe, on one hand, for the sacred responsibility entrusted to me. And yet, wariness … Do you remember the House that fell? Its name has been wiped from the records, so it is known only as the Fallen House. Father said it fell near the time when I was born, but he showed me a letter he received from its executed patriarch. He told me it is a reminder that we do not fully understand the depths of that which we protect. It haunts me, sister, for the executed patriarch wrote: “I cannot help but wonder if for all that we protect the West’s Babel Fragment from the public, we are also protecting the public from it…”





13





ZOFIA


Zofia liked computing numbers aloud. Math calmed her. Distracted her.

“Two hundred twenty-two squared is forty-nine thousand two hundred eighty-four,” she muttered, climbing the marble steps.

In her hand, the golden invitation looked like a flame peeled off a fire. She traced the elaborate letters: Baroness Sophia Ossokina.

“Seven hundred ninety-one squared is…” Zofia frowned. “Six hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred eighty-one.”

Not as fast as she used to be. That numeral had taken her almost fifteen seconds to compute. By now, she should have felt calmer.

She didn’t.

In an hour, they would board the train for the Chateau de la Lune. By midnight, they would be seated at the opening feast. This wouldn’t be like acquisitions in the past when impersonating someone meant memorizing a handful of lines. This meant hiding herself in plain sight. It would have been easier if she was still a sum unto herself. But Séverin and the others made her part of an equation. If she failed, she wouldn’t fail alone. It was Séverin and Enrique and Laila, and all the weight of their hopes. It was Hela, who was acting governess to their pampered cousins, waiting for freedom. It was the dream she clung to, that small image she replayed over and over … the peace of walking down a street and feeling as though she were no different from anyone else.

Such fragile things swaying in the balance.

Zofia’s hands were damp as she crossed the final hallway to Laila’s room. She had only visited Laila there once. She hadn’t liked it. It smelled too strong. And it was so colorful. Not like the kitchens with their uniform shades of cream.