Hope sparks inside me at the genuine interest in his voice. Maybe he’s not going to sneak away to die on me after all. I swallow hard and say flippantly, “Oh, it’s a typical wedding. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. The father of the bride has had too much to drink and dances like an old bear. The groom’s men and the bride’s maids flirt shamelessly with one another, knowing that on this day, they’ll be forgiven anything. The servants linger at the buffet table, sneaking their lord’s food while he pretends not to notice.”

“And the groom and bride?”

“He is an old, crippled soldier, past his prime, and she is young and beautiful.”

Zito’s face freezes. After an awkward silence, I hastily add, “They look deliriously happy. It is a marriage of great affection, maybe even love. Still, I give it a fortnight before they are as glum as any married couple.”

He doesn’t even crack a smile. “And Elisa? How is your sister?”

“She and Lupita are inseparable. I’ve offered to foster Lupita, you know, when she is old enough. Lady Calla had raptures when I made the suggestion. It’s funny—Lupita could have any flowers she wants now that they are blooming, but she chose the scarlet hedge nettle. It looks awful.” And wonderful. It really is a good symbol for the people here. Softly, I add, “I have been thinking about Elisa.”

Zito says nothing, but he turns his blind face to me.

In a queer twist of fate, my sister is a hero now. The speculation I fed to the guards evolved during the last two weeks. Someone must have wondered if Elisa used the power of her Godstone to chase away the Perditos and heal the land. It’s been such a popular notion that none of her protestations can convince them otherwise.

I smile to myself. Elisa will forever have the acclaim for something that Zito and I did. And for some reason, I don’t mind at all.

“Thinking what?” Zito prods at last.

“Papá has considered giving Elisa away to one of our lesser but wealthy lords to refill our coffers. But maybe she belongs with someone in a position of power. She . . .” For some reason, it’s hard to say. But this is Zito. I can say anything to him. “She has potential, Zito. She will act when forced. And when she sets her mind to something . . . Well, getting her away and on her own might be just what she needs.”

His features shift slightly, but without his eyes to measure his mood, I’m not sure what it means. I suppose I must get to know my steward all over again. If he stays with me long enough.