“The day I promised,” Sable said. “The Tides have received it, I’m sure. It must have arrived after your friends left. I sent forty of my best warriors there as well. They’ll stay and help however your brother needs them.”

Liv looked at him. “You did?”

Sable smiled. “I know you worry about him.”

Aria felt her last trace of hope for Roar fade. The deal was done. Liv belonged to Sable. They just needed the wedding ceremony now. It seemed like a formality.

“Did Perry send a message for me?” Liv asked.

Roar shook his head. “We had to leave quickly, so he didn’t have a chance. Even then, I’m not sure he would have sent word.”

“Why?” Liv said. “Has he lost his tongue?”

“He blames himself for what happened to Vale, Liv.”

She scowled. “I know what Vale did. I know who my brother was. How hard is it to send a message?”

“That’s a good question,” Roar said. “How hard is it to send a message? Perry hasn’t heard from you in a year. Maybe he’s afraid he’s lost you. Maybe he thinks you don’t care about him anymore. Do you, Liv?”

Liv and Roar stared at each other, unblinking. Obviously, this was no longer about Perry. Aria felt like she and Sable had disappeared from the room.

“Of course I love him,” Liv said. “He’s my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“Touching, Liv.” Roar pushed back from the table. “I’m sure Perry will be happy to hear that.” His steps were silent as he left.

Alone with Liv and Sable, Aria suddenly felt like an intruder. The wind had blown out the candles at their end of the table. In the weaker light, Liv’s dress looked cold, like red clay. Everything looked gray and cold.

“I’ll have your brother brought here,” Sable said, reaching for Liv’s hand. “We can hold the wedding until then. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Liv smiled at him, a quick, shaky flash. “I’m sorry … I’m not hungry,” she said, and left the room.

Aria waited for Sable to go after her. He didn’t. He plucked a fig from his plate and ate it, watching her as he chewed.

“I know why Roar is here,” he said. “Why are you?”

His words were casual, but the look in his eyes was penetrating. Aria glanced at the door, gauging the distance, instinct telling her to leave now.

Sable’s hand shot out and clasped her wrist. With her free hand, Aria snatched a knife from the table. She held it facing down, ready for the strike she’d make at his neck. A killing strike. There would only be one shot against someone like him. But that wouldn’t help her. She needed him to talk.