“He would never use them for our family’s ends.”

“Nor should he.” I shrugged. “But that would be between us and the doge. The other families of the Assembly wouldn’t need to know that.”

My mother’s smile widened. “You’re learning, my child. You have a long way to go still. But you’re finally learning.”

My mother might have relented in her threats to send Marcello off to the Witchwall Mountains, but still, I thought it prudent not to share a silk-cushioned bench with him as our boat navigated the traffic on the Imperial Canal. I had plenty of time to decide what to do about Lieutenant Verdi; in the meantime, smiling into his eyes without worrying I was dooming him to a dark fate on the Vaskandran border was very nice indeed.

Zaira shared my bench, making pointed commentary about the various deficiencies in taste of other gentry in the boats around us. Istrella sat with her brother, humming to herself and examining a symphonic shell she’d bought at our stop in Palova. Our oarsman muttered curses at a courier in a sleek little boat who dared to cut us off, and a balding old man on a town house balcony above us burst into a spontaneous ballad in a rich, beautiful tenor.

It was good to be home. The first sight of the Serene City floating dreamlike on the lagoon had pierced my heart with mingled awe and relief. For all I’d done in Ardence, I had no doubt in that moment that I was a daughter of Raverra.

Soon we passed into the open lagoon and began the short crossing to Raptor’s Isle. The Mews loomed above the water, gray and forbidding. My eyes went to Zaira, who stared at the approaching fortress, her expression unreadable.

When we disembarked, I stood for a moment on the dock with Marcello while Zaira greeted Scoundrel, who danced with unbearable ecstasy to see her. Even her and Istrella’s laughter, and Scoundrel’s frenzy of wagging and leaping, couldn’t distract me from the warmth that charged the small space of air between us.

“I’ll come to the Mews every day,” I told him.

His return smile was wistful. “Will you have time, with all the new duties you’re taking on?”

“I’ll make time. I’m a Cornaro. Time itself must bend to my demands.”

He laughed, rewarding me with a flash of dimples. “Very well, then, Amalia. Zaira and I will expect you every day, and time be damned.”

“Besides, I need to work with your sister on that canal-lock design. And help Venasha and Foss settle in with Aleki, once they catch up to us.”

“Perhaps I won’t see you as much as I hoped, then.” But the dimples stayed, so I knew he wasn’t serious. Mostly.