Something was wrong. This wasn’t because of any prank. Nicasia’s anger was too intense, Cardan’s hatred too vital. And Locke seemed half in and half out of the action, as though he was a willing but unenthusiastic participant.
“Please,” I whispered to Locke. “Do something.”
“Ah, but I have,” he told me, not looking in my direction as he spoke. “I’m protecting you.”
And then all at once I recalled the way he’d smiled at you at the revel, in front of Cardan, and how he hadn’t been to see me since. Recalled that you and I are identical twins. He was protecting me, sure. Protecting me by tricking them.
He’d made them think you were his lover.
And the way you’d stood up to them—well, you practically confirmed it.
“No,” I whispered. “She’s my sister. You can’t do that to my sister.”
“You
