So Domenic had competition. I wasn’t sure whom to cheer on, though the day Zaira took my romantic advice would be the day Celantis rose back from the ashes.

I noticed a small knife rode Zaira’s hip now; Marcello must have decided, after the incident in the Tallows, it was best to give her a means to defend herself besides balefire. Jesses gleamed on her friends’ wrists as they laughed at whatever story she was telling them. One girl covered her mouth.

Then I made out a few of the words drifting across the hall, and my cheeks heated. “What is she telling them?”

“Ah … perhaps I’m less proud than I thought.” Marcello adjusted his uniform collar. “Sorry, my lady.”

I cleared my throat to drown out the climax of Zaira’s story. “If you don’t mind me asking, Marcello, how come I never see your Falcon?”

“Istrella’s not one for company, I’m afraid. Though I think she’d make an exception for you.”

“Oh? Is she shy?”

“Not really. She just prefers books to people.” He waved an arm up toward a window tucked high under the vaulted ceiling. “She rarely comes down out of her tower. I keep telling her she should, but she’s always puttering around with some project up there. She could change the world if she would finish more of them.”

There was an exasperated warmth in his voice. An unexpected jealousy stirred in my chest. “It sounds as if you have a great fondness for her.”

“Of course I do! She’s my little sister.”

“Ah!” I tried not to let relief color my voice.

“I told her about you, and how brave you were in the Tallows. She was more interested when I said you’d studied artifice.” He laughed.

That’s right, his Falcon was an artificer. “I’d like to meet her.”

Marcello’s face reddened unaccountably. “I’d be delighted to introduce you. I think you’d like each other.” He gazed up at the window, as if he could see through stone walls to watch her. “She’s why I became a Falconer, you know. When she went to the Mews, I went with her so she wouldn’t be alone. But most of the time, I think she forgets I’m here.”

“Do you regret joining, then?” I asked.

“No. I have plenty of regrets, but becoming a Falconer isn’t one of them. I can do a lot of good here. I can help mage-marked children find safety and peace.”

Zaira threw herself down in an empty chair at our table, snorting with disdain. “Peace? Is that what you call it?” The girls she’d been talking to had their heads together now, whispering and giggling. Zaira waved an arm at them. “The Falcons are part of the military. If a war breaks out, you’ll be throwing us all into it. How about that, Mister Bringer of Peace?”