Vincent shook his head rapidly. “No, no. Are they very large, then?”

“You ordered life size!” she shouted at them. “You two are large, thus are the sculptures.”

Victoria flinched, and looked at her feet. I had always thought she appreciated her size because of the advantages it gave her in fighting. But perhaps I was wrong.

“That is true,” Vincent said glumly. “I had thought it might take you longer to finish them.”

“Lady Anaïs insisted the work be my first priority.” The troll placed hands on her hips and scowled.

“She would,” Vincent muttered. Victoria tucked a lock of hair that had come loose from her braid back behind her ear.

“This might take a while,” Marc whispered in my ear. “Let’s go.”

I was reluctant to leave my friends in the company of the sculptor, but Victoria gave a faint nod indicating I should leave.

“What was that all about?” I asked, watching the exchange over my shoulder as I walked.

“They lost a bet to Anaïs,” Marc said. “So they had to order life-sized sculptures that were to be placed in front of their house for no less than one month.”

“That isn’t so bad,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Nude sculptures,” Marc added, his brows coming together in a frown. “She was being cruel – she knows that Victoria is… shy.”

I scowled. “Why is she so blasted nasty all the time – Victoria is her friend. Friends don’t do that to each other.”

“They shouldn’t,” Marc agreed. “But, I suspect Anaïs is angry at Victoria for how much time she spends with you.”

“Maybe if she was more pleasant, Victoria would enjoy her company more,” I snapped.

Marc sighed. “Anaïs is very unhappy, Cécile. And you don’t know her well enough to judge her.”

I know enough, I thought angrily, but I kept my mouth shut. Next time I talked to Victoria, I would suggest she dress her statue in clothes and let Anaïs try that on for size.

We entered a square dominated by a fountain with a giant winged serpent spouting water from its mouth, its emerald eyes gleaming malevolently. On the far side of the square, two trolls were shouting at each other. One shoved the other, and the argument quickly turned to blows.

Marc sighed. “Wait here a moment.”

I watched as he strode over to the fighting men. Raising one hand, invisible magic jerked the two apart, leaving them to dangle in the air while he questioned them on their grievance.

I went over to the fountain to examine the serpent more closely. It had been carved in great detail, from its overlapping scales to its sharp golden-tipped claws. The plaque on the base read The Dragon Called Melusina. “A dragon,” I muttered, eyeing up the creature, wondering if such creatures existed somewhere, or if they were merely a figment of some sculptor’s imagination.

Turning my back on the dragon, I leaned against the fountain, nodding at the trolls who offered bows and curtseys with their greetings as they passed. The sight of an older, but statuesque, woman walking across the square caught my attention. She was dressed all in black, which was unusual, and though I didn’t recognize her, I marked her easily as an aristocrat. Her gown was elaborate, the taffeta rustling across the cobbles, and she wore a wealth of jewels that glittered in the lamplight. But what made me certain was the air of authority in her walk, and the way all the other trolls made way for her as she passed. A slender servant woman walked a few steps behind her, head downcast and arms loaded with packages.