That smile. Those eyes. Not tranquil water at all, but the calm in the eye of a hurricane. Perhaps the hurricane itself. Inexplicably, I knew the pleasantries had ended. She released my hand and returned to her seat, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Is that so?”

“I wouldn’t have been able to say it otherwise.”

Beau pressed his foot over mine again.

“And . . . do you remember his last words to you?” she asked slyly.

These words I didn’t struggle to remember. “He promised he would find me.”

“Find you?” When she batted her lashes as if—as if goading me—unease lifted the hair at my neck. Surely this wasn’t appropriate table conversation? We’d only just met, and melusines valued etiquette. My suspicion only deepened when she asked, “He sleeps belowdecks, does he not?”

“He does.” I forced my voice to remain calm and collected—pleasant even. Still, I couldn’t help but search her features for some of her brother’s warmth. His good humor. “I’ve tried to wake him to no avail. Actually . . .” I cleared my throat as delicately as possible, throwing caution to the wind. “I was hoping you might . . . speed along the process.”

Inexplicable triumph flashed in those nameless eyes. “Oh?” Though her voice remained light, conversational, her words belied the tone. “You hope, or you presume?”

My brows furrowed at the word. “I would never presume—”

“No?” Idly, she lifted a hand, and a servant hurried to fill her flute. “Do my mirrors lie, l’oursin? Do you not secretly scheme for an alliance?”

“I—” Incredulous, I met Coco’s eyes across the table. She didn’t intervene, however. She didn’t dare interrupt. “I don’t scheme for anything, my lady. While I would’ve liked to secure your friendship during our visit, I don’t expect it.”

“Would’ve? Does this mean you no longer desire my friendship?”

“No, my lady. I mean yes. It’s just”—I splayed my hands helplessly—“this doesn’t seem to be going terribly well.”

“What do you expect, Louise, when you treat gods and goddesses as your personal attendants?” She sipped at her seawater, still studying me. “To be frank, I cannot fathom what my siblings see in you, nor why they indulge your arrogance. When I sent Angelica to fetch you, I expected . . . some sort of grandeur—a magnetism, perhaps—but now, having met you, I see you possess neither. Aurore has bestowed her blessing on a sea urchin.”

The first spark of anger lit in my chest. Aurore’s blessing? A sea urchin? “Is that why you invited me here? To satisfy your curiosity?”

She didn’t answer, instead turning to Beau. “What about you, princeling? Do you find Louise intelligent?”

He carefully returned his spoon to his plate before answering. “I do.”

“Do you find her extraordinarily intelligent?”

“Y—” His reply caught in his throat, however, and his gaze cut to mine, abruptly panicked. Rueful. My anger spiked in response. He couldn’t lie—not here, not caught in Isla’s web of magic—even to spare my feelings. The knowledge hurt, but it didn’t cut deep enough to scar. I might not have been extraordinarily intelligent, but I had intelligence enough to know Isla wanted to hurt me. To shock and awe me. I just didn’t understand why.

“As I thought. Tell me, princeling, do you find her extraordinarily beautiful, then?”

He frowned, eyes still darting between us. Her gaze, however, still didn’t stray from mine. It bored into me with disturbing intensity. With disturbing clarity. Beau tugged at the collar of his shirt before muttering, “Of course I find her pretty. She’s my”—his throat worked again, failing to form the words—“she’s like my sister.”

“How quaint. I asked if you find her beauty extraordinary, however. Is Louise among the fairest you’ve encountered?” When he didn’t answer right away, she inclined her head. “Just so. Do you consider her extraordinarily brave instead?” Again, he didn’t answer. “No? Extraordinarily true, perhaps? Extraordinarily just?” Still Beau said nothing, swallowing hard around words that couldn’t come. Sweat beaded along his forehead at the effort. His foot pressed against mine with enough force to crack my bones.

A peculiar hum started in my ears at the pressure, and my vision tunneled on Isla’s superior expression. How dare she treat us this way? We were guests in her realm. She’d invited us here—and for what? To torment us? To poke and prod until we snapped? An almost childlike indignation flooded my system at the injustice.

Isla was supposed to be an ally.

“I don’t—why do you ask such questions?” Beau ground out.

She ignored his struggle, continuing ruthlessly. “Is Louise a leader, Beauregard? A visionary?”

“She—not as such—”

“Has she offered you riches in exchange for your loyalty? Has she offered you magic?”

He nearly choked on his answer.

“Is she extraordinary in any way?”

“She—” He looked to me, helpless, color rising in his cheeks. Across the table, Célie shot us covert looks, still pretending to listen to Elvire. Coco didn’t pretend at all. She glared at Isla with eyes that blazed with hatred while the hum in my ears grew louder.

“—is just as I feared,” Isla finished for him. “She is ordinary. Painfully, intolerably ordinary, yet she inspires the loyalty and devotion of my sister, my brother, you.” Scoffing, she shook her head and signaled for another course. “A wasted blessing, to be sure.”

“I am not blessed.”

“You don’t even realize, do you? I shouldn’t be surprised. Aurore may say what she likes about Morgane, but at least your mother possesses a modicum of awareness.”

My fingers shook at the comparison. At the insult. I curled them into fists, staring at the pan-fried dulse without seeing it. “Why did you summon us here?”

Again, she ignored my question, reaching across Beau to seize the diamond pin in my hair. “Help me understand, Louise. Why do they follow where you lead? I have only ever watched you fail—watched you murder, watched you lie, watched you cheat. Indeed, like a sea urchin, the only feat you’ve managed in all your life is survival. In doing so, you have harmed every person in this beloved family of yours, yet each one remains. Why?”