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“Brother.” He looks up from his copy of the Daily and greets me with a well-rehearsed smile. The woman at the table looks over at me and blushes.

“Rosalind,” he says in an awful Italian accent, “questo e mio fratello. Brother, meet Rosalind. She’s visiting for the day from Sardinia.”

“Piacere di conoscerti.” She holds out her hand, and I oblige it with a kiss.

“I require a word.”

He turns a page in the paper. “Begonia Terrace has gone on the market. Sixty-eight million. House of Oralia is selling. What do you think of that?”

“Per favore scusaci un attimo,” I say to the woman, with perfect pitch and flawless intonation. She thanks Felix, rises from the table, and leaves.

“You just ruined what was looking to be a very promising morning.”

More eyes are on us. Draguns I haven’t seen in years. I snatch the paper away from him.

“Is Charlie here?”

“Do you see him?”

“Yaniselle?”

He quirks a brow. “Aye.”

I lean across the table. “I’ll ask once more. Why are you here?”

Felix shifts. He clears his throat and tosses his napkin on his plate. “Broom closet near the fire exit on the south side of the inn.”

I exit the restaurant first and find the broom closet. He joins me moments later, the playfulness on his face gone.

“Why are you here? What is Beaulah playing at?”

“Sunspots are aggressively growing in number.”

“You wouldn’t have passed Maezre Tramaine’s session if it wasn’t for my brother doing your work. Don’t talk to me about things you don’t know anything about. How much longer do you think Beaulah’s going to be able to hide where her loyalties really lie?”

Felix dusts off my shoulder. “Making your father proud, I see.”

I tighten a fist. “I urge you to see reason and uphold your vows.”

“Funny. I was going to give you the same advice.” Felix straightens his coat and reaches for the broom closet door. “Many understand Mother’s position and are passionate about her cause.”

The other House that’s marching.

I pin him in place. “You will give me something or you won’t leave here at all.”

Felix swallows. “I’ve heard Chateau Soleil is a ghost town.”

“Darragh Marionne would never march in support of Beaulah.” It can’t be House Ambrose. They’d see allying with Beaulah as beneath them. Headmistress Oralia never troubles herself with anything. “There aren’t any other Houses. Duncan? Their House has been dissolved.”

“Grudges outlive people, Jordan. I’m surprised you of all people don’t realize that.”

“They could not care less about House of Marionne.”

They have nothing to lose.

“You dated the Duncan girl,” I say. “The one who died.”

“Aye.”