“Your clothes are very nice as well,” Sera said. “You look much more comfortable.”

“What is she saying?” Vada asked.

“She likes my outfit,” Agnes said. “She thinks I look comfortable.”

Vada winked at her. “You do, little lion. You look as if you were born to wear it.”

Agnes flushed. Leo appeared then, a circlet of speckled junonia shells crowning his curls. For all his moaning about it, the headdress was subtle and suited him perfectly.

Vada clapped her hands together. “Well, my friends,” she said. “Let us go to dinner.”

4

Sera

AS SOON AS SERA STEPPED FOOT ON THE SHORES OF PELAGO, she felt her magic surge within her, a thrilling force that made her feel at once powerful and out of sorts. She had an overwhelming sense of certainty that her City was still tethered here, that this country was welcoming her like an old friend.

Then they entered the market and she became overwhelmed by all the people. There was an undercurrent of tension in the air. Misarros prowled everywhere, occasionally stopping to question a patron or a vendor. But Vada’s disguise had worked—no one bowed or knelt or treated her like a freak or a goddess.

When people did notice them at all, it was Leo they focused on. She saw an old man touch his forehead when they passed and a young girl do a double take. She was glad that Leo, at least, could pass himself off as Pelagan. And no one seemed to take any notice of Agnes.

Sera’s legs didn’t stop trembling until they were fully past the enormous market. They came out upon a wide boulevard bustling with horses pulling carriages decorated with shells or stones or jewels. People on foot wove in between them, alongside the occasional palanquin carried by broad-shouldered servants, curtains open to let in the cool evening breeze and revealing the man or woman reclined within.

Leo stopped and looked up and down the boulevard in confusion.

“Which way?” he hissed to Vada, but before she could answer, a man wearing a uniform of dark pants under a white tunic and low-heeled sandals rushed up to them. The same seal on the package her dress had been wrapped in—a swan crowned with three stars—was printed on the right side of his chest in red.

“Mr. Byrne,” he said, making an elaborate bow. “What a true honor to meet you. Mistress Ofairn has sent me to escort you, your bride, and your servants to dinner. Please come this way.”

Leo responded with a curt nod. They crossed the boulevard, deftly maneuvering between carriages, before entering a smaller street lined with dwellings made of light-colored stone, ivory and rose and pale gold. It was quieter here and Sera felt her heart rate slowly return to normal.