Chapter 15
It was hardly an hour later when we ventured from the house. As I walked, I was careful to mind my cape. The streets overflowed with people. The air was redolent with the fragrance of food, perfumes, incense, and bodies pressed together.
“Are you wearing it?” Sylvain asked, his voice close to my ear. When I hesitated to answer, he grabbed at me until his hands found and explored the lining.
“You wear your death, and for what? To mock laws and spite a fool?” He made a disgusted sound in his throat and thrust the cloak from his hands. “And does the musician wear the other?”
“Yes,” I answered. “And he is wise to the importance of discretion. You mustn’t worry. All will be well, Sylvain. It will be well.” I added the last under my breath in hopes of quieting my own fears.
“Let
