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Dante’s knife clicked against the plate as he shaved off a slice of cheese, followed by the crunch of bread—the sounds were soothing, but disorienting after so many silent meals.

“So,” Dante finally said, with the air of someone pulling a tooth. “How long’s it been since you’ve touched anyone in a non-murdery way?”

“It’s notmurder. And I don’t know.”

He looked skeptical.

She fetched a glass of water and dropped into the seat across from him with a long sigh. “Four years, ten months. And a few weeks.”

“Who’s counting, right?” He nudged the plate toward the center of the table. “What’s your plan this time?”

Alessa plucked a paper-thin slice of parmesan, which melted on her tongue in an exquisite rush of salt and fat. “Pray?”

“That’s not a plan.”

It also wasn’t the truth. She hadn’t prayed in years. Not sincethe gods first turned their back on her and let Emer die. Oh, she said the words, took to her knees in the temple and cast her sights to the heavens. She even spoke to them at times. But she didn’tpray. Prayer meant extending your soul like an open hand, trusting some invisible recipient to take hold. Whenever she extended her hand, death was placed in her grasp.

No, she didn’t pray.

“Saving Saverio isn’t like finding a new method for solving math problems,” she said.

“Are there different methods?”

“Believe it or not, yes. My teachers were never impressed that I got all the right answers but couldn’t explain how, but Ididalways get the right answers. This, however, isn’t long division, and myplanis the same as every Finestra’s before me.” She raised her glass.

A smile tugged at his lips. “How’s that working for you?”

An inappropriate laugh burst free, sending water splashing over the rim. “Obviously not great, or my Fonte would be sitting there, not you.” She traced her fingers through the spill, drawing shallow rivers that dried faster than she could replace them.

“Maybe you should try something else, then.”

“Wonderfuladvice. Thank you for that.”

“You think it’ll work this time?”

“It has to.”

“Doesn’t mean it will.” He looked so matter-of-fact, like he wasn’t tossing the possibility of Saverio’s annihilation at her right before she had to make a life-or-death decision.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” She pinched her lips together, inhaling through her nose. “I have faith.”

“In what?”

“In… In the gods?” Divinely ordained warriors weren’t permitted to doubt.

“If you’re waiting for the gods to save you, you’re doomed.”

“That’s blasphemy,” she said, unable to put much feeling into it.

“Kill me, then. No one will miss me.”

She gave him a long look. “I’d rather not. I like that carpet, and it would be a real nuisance to get your blood out of it.”

An almost-smile softened his features. “You’re a strange girl.”

“I’m not a girl. I’m a Finestra.”

As she rounded the final corner of the stairs, Alessa’s heart plummeted at the sound of Tomo and Renata’s voices echoing from the antechamber outside the temple.