Page 56 of A Madness of Crows

Put a damn painting up to help with direction, for the love of god. Or a map.

It takes me too long to find my room. I’m panting when I twist the handle, darting inside and slamming it behind me.

I press my forehead into the wood, waiting for my breathing to settle before checking for anything that gives away my presence outside. Mud flecks my lower legs beneath my dress, my bare feet filthy from the packed mud ground.

This might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Caterina Corvo.

Day 43 – Stefano

My feet drag along the floor as I make my way back to her room, my chest heavy and aching.

It’s foolish.

She’s gone. She’s safe.

That’s it.

And whatever happens now – it was worth it.

The thought pounds in my head as I push the door open.

It takes me a second to notice.

On the floor, a few feet away from me, is a blue crumpled dress.

And my heart – it stutters. Stops completely, the organ ceasing to pump as my head slowly rises.

A splashing sound comes from the bathroom.

No.

It’s not possible. Not possible—

I charge across the open space, my hand slamming into the door.

Golden skin glimmers beneath the still water of the bathtub. Bronze hair floating, her eyes closed below the surface.

An enraged sound erupts from my throat as I reach in and yank her out. “What the hell are youdoing?”

Caterina splutters, water cascading from her body as I grip her shoulders, shaking her. “Why are you here?”

My mind races. The guards. Someonefoundher—

But she’s quiet, those brown eyes focused on my face. “I came back.”

My grip tightens. “What?”

Her hands land over mine, and I immediately ease the tightness of my grip. “Explain. Now.”

Her wet hands slip from the back of my hands. Move to my wrists. Slide up my bare forearms until she reaches the edges of my shirt sleeves, rolled up to help with the clean up outside.

“You were free.” My voice is disbelieving. “Where’s Fusco?”

“On his way home.” Her fingers keep going. Trace up my sleeves. Water sloshes as she rises up on her knees, and I look away.

“Cat.”

There’s a growl in my voice. A growing suspicion. “Tell me you didn’t.”