“If he didn’t take it, we need to find out who did, and quickly. But we don’t have much in the way of leads left. Except …” I straightened, remembering. “Lady Savony gave me a list of people who might have information. I still haven’t talked to all of them.”

I fished the folded paper out of my dagger sheath and smoothed it out on the table. Her list of names in elegant, loopy handwriting stared up at me.

There was something familiar about that writing. The curl of the L’s, the way she dotted her I’s with a slash …“Do you still have that letter, Marcello? The one from the Owl?”

Marcello blinked. “I think it might still be in my coat.” He rummaged in his pocket for a moment, then pulled it out. “Sorry, it got a bit crumpled.”

I spread it out on the table next to Savony’s list of names. The similarity was unmistakable.

“Hells,” I said. “This is Savony’s handwriting.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Of course. Lady Savony had the access to the duke, the resources, and the knowledge of Ardence necessary to have executed this scheme. She had the organizational skills, the intelligence, the purpose, and the drive to be behind it. I’d even seen her talking to Baron Leodra, back at the Ardentine Embassy in Raverra. How she thought this situation would end well for Ardence, I couldn’t imagine—but that just meant there was more to her plan than we knew.

This plot isn’t what you think it is, Leodra had said.

Marcello leaned over the letter. “Grace of Mercy. Are you sure?”

“I can’t be positive.” I scanned the wrinkled pages. “But it certainly looks that way.”

Zaira put her feet up on another chair and lounged with her hands behind her head. “Then tell the duke his loyal bitch is a traitor.”

“Would he believe you?” Marcello asked, frowning.

“Probably not,” I admitted. “Even if we show him the letter, whom will he trust: the woman who’s been his voice and hands all these years or the enemies who want to burn his city? We could have a signed confession from her, and he’d still probably listen to her over us.”

“We can’t just ignore this.” Marcello started to pace.

“Maybe if we could connect her to the missing children.” I worried at a rough spot on my armrest. “Finding them is still the key, both to rescue them and to convince the Ardentine court.”

Zaira shrugged. “So follow her.”

“Follow Lady Savony?”

“No, the kitchen maid.” Zaira rolled her eyes. “Of course I meant the gray harpy. She knows you’re getting close, right? But you didn’t give away you knew it was her.”

“Only because I didn’t realize it at the time.”