He gestured in my direction, ignoring my hint. “With allies like Amalia, we don’t need to force a confrontation. It’s not too late to take a different road—one that won’t lead to bloodshed.”

I glanced at Domenic in alarm. That sounded far more advanced than I’d hoped.

Gabril sneered his contempt. “Are you so eager to accommodate the Empire? I thought better of you.”

“We are part of the Empire, Gabril. For better or for worse.” Domenic waved an encompassing hand around the room. “You could use everything you’ve built here to stand up to them without putting Ardence at risk. To defend the mage-marked, and champion our city. But if you use the Shadow Gentry to make Ardence a prize for Vaskandar and Raverra to fight over, we are the ones who lose that battle. Change course now, before you crash this ship on the shoals of war.”

Gabril glared at Domenic for a long moment. A clock on the mantel measured second after second, plucking the taut string of silence in the room.

But then he turned a brilliant smile at me, cocking his head. “Well, Lady Amalia? What is your opinion? Is he right? Is our wisest course to avoid confrontation at all costs?”

There was a test in his voice. One I needed to pass to gain more information.

Tell them nothing, my mother said once, and they will fill the meaninglessness of your words with exactly what they want to hear.

“If you know my family,” I said, “you know the answer to that question.”

A slow smile curved Gabril’s lips. “Very well,” he said. “I think perhaps I do.”

He turned to Domenic. “I beg your pardon, Domenic, but would you and the Falcon mind giving me a moment of Lady Amalia’s time in private?”

Domenic stared at his brother, gripping the arms of his chair. A vein in his temple pulsed.

Zaira snorted and stood. “The Falcon certainly doesn’t mind. I’m dying of boredom in here. At least there are drinks in the drawing room.”

Domenic rose more slowly. “You’re making a mistake, Gabril.”

“In speaking to Lady Amalia alone?” he asked innocently. “I should think not.”

“Amalia?” Domenic looked a question at me, to which I returned a minute shrug. I had no idea what Gabril wished to discuss, though I was quite curious to find out. Zaira was already heading for the door.

He nodded stiffly to Gabril. “We’ll talk later, then.”

“I look forward to it, brother.”

The door closed behind them. Gabril eased back in his chair, smirking.

“Now we can drop the pretense, my lady.”

If he could, lovely. I had no such luxury, so I tried to return a knowing smile.

“My brother is a good man.” Gabril sighed. “And brilliant, of course. But he’s hardly subtle. You, of course, are a Cornaro; subtlety is in your blood.”