Serina kissed Nomi’s forehead. “When I was on Mount Ruin, I tried to imagine what you’d do. How you’d survive in the palazzo. You’ve always been such a fighter, Nomi. You did what needed to be done.”

“I killed him for Mama and Papa,” she said softly. “And for me. For us. I thought that the world would change somehow, magically, once he was gone.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “But an army is massing at our gates, we are still just rebels needing to be silenced, and no amount of murder will bring Mama and Papa back. I was a fool.”

Serina brushed the wet from Nomi’s cheeks with her thumb. Her heart was as broken as her sister’s. “Viridia will change. It has to. They can’t erase us.”

Nomi sniffed and hardened her mouth to keep it from trembling. “Of course they can.”

She turned back toward the balcony, her gaze on the slivers of boats and soldiers visible around the edge of the building. Serina watched them too.

Ines appeared on the balcony. The woman was severe and implacable, just as she’d been when she’d caught Serina holding Nomi’s book. She was clothed in a slim column of black satin. “I’ve ordered food and a medic to tend to the injured. The servants will do as I say.”

Her face betrayed nothing.

“Thank you,” Serina said, fighting the outdated impulse to curtsy. She was no Grace, after all.

Ines’s gaze shifted to Nomi. “I assume the Superior is not in a position to object.”

Nomi swallowed. “No, he is not.”

Serina stationed Val and the strongest of the uninjured girls at the doors to the circular room. They stood guard, their weapons ready. She put Maris and Helena on the balcony, with orders to find her when the last of the soldiers had been ferried to the palazzo.

It was eerie how little urgency the army showed in their approach—they seemed unconcerned with the prospect of being attacked, as if they already knew the forces within were not a proper threat.

Serina ate a bit of bread and slowly sipped a goblet of water. Her stomach churned, but the food steadied her hands. She checked on Anika, who’d been grazed in the side by a bullet. According to the medic, it was a superficial wound. Anika growled at that. “It doesn’t feel superficial.”

The injured women were lying in real beds for the first time since they’d come to Mount Ruin. Even Mirror’s color looked better, now that she was settled into one of the Graces’ bedrooms, with a proper doctor to tend to her wounds.