On the Isle of Sound and Wonder Read Online Free Page A

again. One of them arrived, gasping when she saw the corpse.
    “Please take my daughter to the wet nurse,” he said quietly. The midwife shifted the baby gently into the maid’s arms even as the poor girl began to weep. She scurried out, sniffling over the little girl in the blanket. The duke moved toward the bed, gazing at the cold, still body of his wife.
    The midwife leaned against the window, the rain-hammered glass cool and soothing against her skin. She was exhausted; she felt her eyes flutter shut.
    “You did everything you could?” asked the duke quietly from across the room.
    “Of course I did,” said the midwife tiredly. “Your daughter lives, my lord. Be thankful, at least, for that much.”
    “Yes, of course. But you did at least try to save my wife, didn’t you, Corvina?”
    She looked at him sharply, but he still stared sadly at his wife. “Of course I did,” repeated the midwife firmly. “I am sorry, my lord.”
    “Yes,” he murmured dazedly. “Yes, I’m sure you are.”
    There was a pause, and the midwife’s palm itched for the staff. She made as though to retrieve it, but quicker than she could blink, it was gone, and she turned in time to see it snap comfortably to the duke’s palm. He closed his long fingers around it slowly.
    “My lord,” said the midwife, startled. “May . . . I have my staff, please?”
    “I did try to tell you, didn’t I?” muttered the duke, still looking at his dead wife. “I did. I asked you for very simple things, Corvina, and yet, you gave me nothing . . .”
    “Nothing?” echoed the midwife, staring at him. “Nothing? I taught you everything you wanted to know.”
    “You gave me nothing,” he repeated, slowly turning to look at her. “Nothing but psychorrax. Heartbreak. You have broken my heart, midwife. And I warned you. Now, I will break yours.”
    Psychorrax . They had screamed that at her in Greccia, when the power of her staff had caused the string of events that led to her exile. She had done nothing but defend herself, but the staff’s magic was unpredictable, and many men had died in the events that followed. The women had thrown stones at her and screamed heartbreak. Psychorrax!
    “No, please, please, my lord, this is not my doing. This is not my work!” The duke advanced on her. “My lord, mercy!”
     “My wife is dead,” he replied, oddly cool, his hand squeezing the gnarled wood over and over. “I have no mercy left to give.”
    The staff came down hard, and Corvina fell into darkness.

1873
    A bell rang loudly somewhere above decks as Ferran exhaled the breath he’d been holding and smoothed his palms down his shirtfront.
    Okay, you’ve got this, he told himself. You can do this. You’ve practiced and you’re ready.
    He shut the door of the wardrobe, and the lamplight of the small but luxurious cabin caught the mirrored glass on the outside of the wood paneling as he turned to face his reflection.
    Nothing to be nervous about.
    At eighteen, dressing for dinner was an automated process for him, and it had been years since he required a team of trained valets to wrestle him into various fabrics and fits of proper clothes. He tugged his shirt collar upright to loop the dark green silk around the back of his neck and down the front again.
    The knot is just the icing on the cake. If I look just right, Father will believe that I can take care of myself, and he might let me go.
    The elaborate knot he was about to attempt had been tried multiple times over the last few weeks, and had given him a great deal more trouble than he’d initially anticipated. He’d just barely gotten it right on the day of the wedding, only to have it unravel an hour before the ceremony. His uncle, Bastiano, had to come to his sartorial rescue. Bastiano’s nimble, long fingers had tied that tie as easily as some men might saddle a horse or build a boat—with careful, deft movements that came from much practice. It was intimidating, and Ferran