Chapter 15

The clinking of glasses jolted Ursula awake.

In the pale starlight, Cera stood over her. “It’s time to get up. I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Ursula rubbed her eyes, trying to bring the room into focus. A familiar, delicious scent wafted through the air.

“Is that...coffee?”

Cera flashed her a toothy smile. “I thought you might like some. The lord said you had a difficult night.”

“You’re the best.” She sat up, stretching her arms above her head. She glanced around the room. Surprise flickered through her. She no longer lay on the sofa in the living room. Someone had brought her up to the bedroom while she’d slept and tucked her under the violet duvet.

“How did I get here?”

Cera dropped a flannel robe next to her on the bed. “How should I know?”

“Did Bael carry me up here? I don’t remember it.”

“The lord is very strong and swift. I’m sure he could have carried you while you slept.” She frowned. “Are you sleeping in one of your finest gowns?”

“Bael chose it.”

Smirking, Cera arched an eyebrow. “Did he, now?”

“Just—I needed something to wear. I was in my—never mind.” Ursula pushed off her blanket and grabbed a cup of steaming, black coffee. She took a sip of the hot brew, letting it energize her. Beside the carafe of coffee lay a basket of warm bread and butter. Her mouth watered, and she bit into a fresh roll.

“Fill your belly,” said Cera. “Then come downstairs when you’re dressed in something more appropriate.”

Ursula ate her way through several rolls and another cup of coffee, taking care not to get crumbs all over the bed. When she’d had her fill, she pulled off her gown and selected a simpler dress—gray cotton with a deep V neck.

As she made her way downstairs, she combed her fingers through her hair to tidy it.

In the middle of the living room, she found two oneiroi men standing next to Cera. Just outside the window, a third rode on the back of a lunar bat.

Ursula’s muscles tensed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s only Sotz,” said Cera. “He’s helping with the window replacement.”

Ursula nodded, staring as Sotz clutched a rope in his feet. As she moved closer to the window, she saw that a large plate of glass dangled at the other end of the rope.

At the direction of the oneiroi workmen, Sotz flew higher, lifting the glass. With a volley of shouts and frantic gestures, the men were able to maneuver the pane into the room. Ursula watched as the workmen carefully fitted the window into place, Sotz hovering just outside. The rider on Sotz’s back slowly adjusted his position in a fascinating display of control.

“Ursula.” Cera touched her arm. “I brought you a present.”

Ursula smiled. “You did? What for?”

“Not my idea. The lord told me to give it to you. He thought it might keep you busy.”

“Right. So I won’t stab anyone else, presumably.”

“That would be for the best.” Cera scurried off toward the hall. When she returned, she carried a shiny black bag.

Ursula’s eyebrows rose. More clothes?

“The lord said you liked to paint.”

A smile curled her lips. “The lord is right.”

Cera reached into the bag, pulling out brushes and tubes of paint. Lastly, she pulled out a small canvas stretched over a wooden frame. “He said if you want a larger canvas, you should let him know.”

“This is such a lovely present.”

“The lord provides,” said Cera.

The two oneiroi workmen approached. The smaller of them met Ursula’s gaze. “The window is in—airtight. The lord protected all the windows with his magic. Nothing will destroy the glass now. You’re safe inside here.”

“Thank you so much,” she said. Thank the gods. She wouldn’t have been able to relax in here, knowing that a man on a giant bat could shatter the glass at any moment.

As Sotz flew off outside, the two workmen left the apartment.

Cera turned back to Ursula with a mischievous grin. “The lord spent the night in your quarters.”

“Not like that.”

Cera’s eyes widened. “He hasn’t come in here in centuries. I think it’s because it pains him to see the portrait.”

Ursula frowned, glancing at the spot on the wall where the portrait had hung. Someone had removed it during the night. “Of the woman? Why?”

Cera’s hand flew to her mouth. “I should not have spoken.”

Well, now I have to know. She touched Cera’s arm. “You can tell me. Who else am I going to tell? You’re my only friend here.”

Cera’s eyes shifted frantically from side to side. She was obviously trying to decide how much she was allowed to tell Ursula.

Finally, she whispered, “The lord’s wife, gods protect her soul.”

Her jaw dropped. “He was married? I had no idea. Did she die in the attack?”

“No. It was long ago, long before my time. I should never have said anything.” Cera backed toward the door. “It’s not my place to talk about the lord’s life.”

Her face even paler than usual, Cera hurried out the door, slamming it behind her.