Page 141 of Scars Beneath a Serpent’s Scales

But Siena, now climbing onto Nico’s back, blurted out, “Of course, it’s all right! It’s my birthday.”

Roremar’s mother flashed a dazzling smile and swept forward, hugging Emmeline. “I’m just happy to have everyone here.” She pulled back, squeezing her arms. “Would you like to help with the cake or set up games outside?”

“Cake sounds lovely.” She glanced at Vivienne. “If that’s all right.”

The girl nodded emphatically, her two dark braids swishing around her as she spun back to the counter and started organizing everything.

They spent the afternoon preparing Siena’s favorite foods and playing games down on the beach. Roremar bounced between the kitchen and the sand, ensuring Emmeline was all right at every chance, and his mother warmly welcomed her.

It was odd, to be embraced by a true family after going so long without her own. To be in a home where everyone was tended to with the deepest, most pure form of love. To see them all fit so perfectly together when she’d never had anywhere to belong.

Discomfort kept trying to wedge behind her ribs, stealing her voice, but in a way—the kind that only came when you stepped beyond the comfortable—it felt nice.

Nico was sitting on the porch, feet on the stone stairs facing out into the jungle.

“Mind if I join?” Emmeline asked as the front door closed behind her.

Nico flashed her a dimpled smile. “‘Course not.”

Dusk was settling in around them, the sky fading from clear blue to dusty lilac. They’d spent the afternoon playing games—everything from drawing with chalk on the stones lining the path to the door to racing among the trees. Apparently the youngest Silventa was an artist, though Roremar had whispered to Emmeline earlier that he thought it was because of Desmond. Siena was infatuated with him, mentioning multiple times throughout the day that she wished he’d been able to attend.

Every time, a dagger plunged into Emmeline’s heart. She’d asked Roremar if Desmond didn’t come because she was here, to which he assured her that wasn’t the case, but each droop of Siena’s shoulders twisted that guilty knife.

Though, she’d seemed okay when they had dinner and cake on the balcony overlooking the ocean—a favorite of hers apparently.

Now, she, Leo, and Roremar were on a walk through the jungle, searching for starflies. One winked to light before Emmeline as she settled beside Nico.

“It’s really peaceful out here,” she commented, cupping her hand to trace the bug’s path.

“It’s a nice change from the Promenade, that’s for sure.” Nico shrugged. “I like the city, though. I considered getting an apartment there when I started my apprenticeship.”

“Why didn’t you? It would have been more convenient,” Emmeline said, pulling her attention from the glittering insects.

Nico leaned back on his hands. “The apprenticeship pays, but not much. I’d rather put that money to better use.” His gaze flicked over his shoulder, stopping on the closed sitting room window where his mother and Vivienne were reading.

Emmeline’s heart ached at the sight.

“You two really do all this?” she asked. “You and Roremar? Take care of them?”

“Roremar does it,” Nico corrected. “He doesn’t let me do very much at all.”

“What do you mean?” Emmeline asked, turning to lean against the stone railing. The flowers Vivienne tended to cascaded over the edge, and she dragged her fingers along their soft petals.

Nico eyed the jungle for a moment. Finally, he sighed, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You haven’t known my brother very long, Emmeline, but what’s something you’ve noticed about him?”

She considered, studying the tension in the crease of his brow. “He can be very uptight,” she began.

Nico scoffed. “Understatement.”

With a laugh, Emmeline added, “He has a softer side, though. And his…reckless one.” But even as she said it, the word didn’t quite feel right on her tongue. She spun her opal ring around her finger, trying and failing to articulate what she meant.

“I think he hates that name,” Nico commented sullenly. “Reckless. I never thought it fit him.”

Doesn’t it, or have I been wrong all this time?

Because truthfully, since beginning this case, when had his recklessness caused a mess anyway?

“Regardless,” Nico went on, sighing, “you’re right. He’s under pressure, and he needs a break. For the past ten years, he’s managed everything in this family. But Fates, he was only twenty-two when our father died. He shouldn’t have had to shoulder all of that. But he did. Our mother has always been ill, so it was too much for her to do alone, especially with a newborn. He worked long hours figuring out our father’s business ventures. He found extra jobs to save up money when things got bleak. Made dinners, read stories when our mother was at work—he did it all. And all that time, he never batted an eye or asked for help. Not even from Desmond who showed up here every day.”