“Cordelia,” James said. “You will be ruined.”

“I know that.” A cold calm had descended upon her. “That is why I said what I said, James. I needed to be believed, and no one would believe that I would say such a terrible thing about myself unless it was true.”

He stopped pacing. The look he bent on her was agonized, as if he were being pierced by a thousand small daggers. “Is this because I saved your life?” he whispered.

“You mean last night? At the manor?”

He nodded.

“Oh, James.” She felt suddenly very weary. “No. It was not that. Do you think I could sit by and watch myself acclaimed a hero while you were made a villain? I don’t care what they think of my honor. I know you, and your friends, and what you would do for each other. I am also your friend, and I know what I think honor is. Let me do this.”

“Daisy,” he said, and she realized with a sort of shock that the Mask was off—his expression was starkly vulnerable. “I can’t bear it. To have your life ruined by this? Let’s go back now and tell them I did it—I burned down the house—and you were lying to shield me.”

Cordelia set her hand against a chair, upholstered in pale blue and the back carved with crossed swords, to hold herself steady.

“Nobody will believe it,” she said, dropping each word into the silence between them like stones into a pond. She saw him flinch. “When it comes to a woman’s reputation, if she is suspected, she is guilty. That is the way the world works. I knew they would believe I was guilty, and now, no matter what we say, they’ll never believe I was innocent. It’s done, James. It doesn’t matter so very much. I needn’t stay in London. I can go back to the country.”

As she spoke, she knew that was how it must be. She was not Anna, able to live a wild bohemian lifestyle with her family’s support. She must go back to Cirenworth, where she talked to mirrors for companionship. She would drown slowly in loneliness, and there would be no dream of London to live on: no Devil Tavern, no battling demons alongside Lucie, no laughing late into the night with the Thieves.

James’s eyes blazed. “Absolutely not,” he said. “And let Lucie’s heart be broken because she’s lost her parabatai? Let you live a secluded life of disgrace? I will not accept that.”

“I cannot regret my choice,” Cordelia said softly. “I would do the same again. And there is nothing either of us can do about it now, James.”