Page 101 of Scars Beneath a Serpent’s Scales

“I found her nearly unconscious in the bathtub a couple weeks ago,” Myrella informed the group.

“Traitor,” Emmeline muttered.

Myrella rolled her eyes, but Roremar’s fury burned through the exchange. “You didn’t tell me this?”

“Uh oh.” Desmond laughed, exchanging a glance with Nico, who pressed his lips into a line.

“Always have to tell him when something’s wrong, Emmeline,” Nico said, nodding so aggressively, his waves bobbed across his brows. Shoving them back, a tattoo of woven vines flexing around his biceps, he added, “It’s one of the Rules of Roremar.”

“What are the Rules of Roremar?” the Reckless himself grumbled.

Nico grinned as if inciting his brother’s frustration was his greatest joy. Emmeline had to bite back her own laugh as he leaned forward, hands curled around the desk. “Something Leo, Vivi, and I came up with. Never hide things no matter how much trouble we’re in, no swimming alone after dark, don’t feed the jungle cats unless we’ve had dinner already, when glass breaks, always tell you before trying to clean it up—that one was Siena, actually, after that time she needed stitches⁠—”

Desmond barked a laugh, but Roremar pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did you devise these rules?”

“A few years ago.” Nico shrugged. “They evolve as time goes on.”

Emmeline pushed into a seated position, head canting. A dull ache radiated through her skull at the motion. “Who are Siena, Leo, and Vivi?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Roremar said, snapping his fingers at his brother. “I want a list of the rules.”

“Yes, sir.” Nico saluted.

Roremar turned his attention back to Emmeline. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve fainted before?”

“We had only just started working together,” she reminded him, allowing for the change in conversation since her head was still spinning. In no way was she done questioning him on those rules. “And besides, I was just tired. It was after we found the second body. A lot had happened in a very short amount of time.”

“You were in a bathtub, Emmeline.” She tried to ignore how his eyes silvered at the words, her own skin heating. “You could have drowned.”

“I was fine,” she swore, waving it off as she squirmed. “Thank you for this,” she added sarcastically to Myrella.

Her friend shrugged, big round eyes the picture of innocence. “I waited until you were awake to discuss it. I could have told him hours ago.”

“Rules of Roremar,” Nico murmured to Myrella out of the corner of his mouth. She couldn’t stifle her laugh quickly enough, and Nico beamed.

But Emmeline sighed. Myrella was right. At least it didn’t feel like she was talking behind her back. She looked from her friend to Roremar. “Truthfully, I don’t know what happened that night or tonight. It could have been related, perhaps I haven’t been sleeping well with all that’s going on. I haven’t been reading as often as usual. Maybe my magic is trying to find a way out that’s overwhelming my body and mind. Whatever it is, I want to figure it out, but we have more important matters to discuss.”

Roremar held her gaze for a long silence, during which she could feel the other three staring at them raptly. Finally, he sighed in concession.

“The Storytellers said to go to the Mourning Gardens for answers,” Emmeline reiterated, turning to Desmond. “What are those?”

“It’s a place Alvan Starsearchers go for illicit activities. Music, dancing, fucking.” Desmond frowned. “I don’t know why they would tell us to go there.”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Nico joked, nodding.

Desmond winked. “Other than that.”

“It has nothing to do with readings or worship?” Myrella asked.

“Not traditionally,” Desmond said. “The Mourning Gardens are where people go to forget what pains them. It’s said any dark proclivity can be satisfied within the hedges.”

Heat flushed Emmeline’s skin, chilling quickly when Nico said, “Like the Mezz.”

“Not like the Mezz,” Roremar snapped defensively with a quick glance at Emmeline.

Desmond added, “I haven’t been back here in a while. It could have changed. When I was younger, teenagers used to try to sneak in after curfew, but it’s primarily for adult Starsearchers to unwind.”

“They said to look for that which reflects her,” Roremar recalled. “That has to be referring to Anphrosia. Some kind of mirror?”