Chapters (49)
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- LONDON: EAST END
- 1 THE BRIGHT WEB
- 2 ALL THAT TURNS
- GRACE: 1893–1896
- 3 BITTER AND SWEET
- 4 A GOOD NAME
- 5 THE KING IS DEAD
- LONDON: 48 CURZON STREET
- 6 THINGS TO COME
- GRACE: 1896
- 7 TREAD LIGHTLY
- LONDON: FINCH LANE
- 8 TO BRING A FIRE
- 9 THE SCARS REMAINING
- LONDON: SHOE LANE
- 10 THE DAMNED EARTH
- GRACE: 1897
- 11 CROWNS AND POUNDS AND GUINEAS
- LONDON: SHEPHERD MARKET
- 12 REQUIEM
- GRACE: 1899
- 13 THE WINTRY WIND
- 14 THE FLAMING FORGE
- 15 WALK BY DAYTIME
- 16 DARK BREAKS TO DAWN
- LONDON: GOLDEN SQUARE
- PART TWO
- 17 PROPHET OF EVIL
- 18 GOBLIN MARKET
- 19 THINE OWN PALACE
- 20 EQUAL TEMPER
- GRACE: 1899–1900
- 21 HELL’S OWN TRACK
- 22 HEART OF IRON
- GRACE: 1903
- 23 A SILKEN THREAD
- 24 HE SHALL RISE
- 25 ARCHANGEL RUINED
- 26 OLDER THAN GODS
- 27 WAKE WITH WINGS
- GRACE: 1900
- 28 NO WISE MAN
- 29 A BROKEN MIRROR
- Epilogue
- NOTES ON THE TEXT
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“—and when we attend one, you must appear to be wildly devoted to me the entire time.” She had finally gotten the comb untangled, and pulled it free. It must have been holding up more of the architecture of her coiffure than she’d imagined: her hair came tumbling down, brushing her bared shoulders. “All right?”
She had expected James to laugh, but he didn’t. He was staring at her. She felt herself blush—had what she said been too audacious? She had only meant to joke, but James looked as if she had mortally surprised him. His eyes had gone a dark gold.
She glanced down at the chessboard and saw that James had left himself open. She quickly moved her queen into a position that threatened both a knight and his king.
“Check,” she said.
“So it is,” James said, his voice oddly rough. “Cordelia, I—”
“You had better make your move,” she said. “It’s your turn.”
“Right.” He studied the board before moving a knight. “I was thinking—our best chance of success is to share everything with each other. Perhaps every night, we should each be able to ask the other a question. Something we want to know about the other, and the question must be answered truthfully.”
Cordelia felt a little short of breath. What if he asked—? No. He wouldn’t. “Or,” she said, “what if only the winner could ask a question?”
“The winner?”
“Every night we play a game,” she said, indicating the chessboard. “The winner of each game should earn something. Not money, but the right to ask something of the other.”
James tented his hands and looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ll agree on one condition. The loser gets to choose the next game. Chess, or draughts, or cards. Whatever they like.”
“Fine. I’ll match my wits with yours at any game you choose. Though I prefer chess. It was invented in Persia, you know.”
His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment. Then he looked down, returning his focus to the board. “I hadn’t heard that.”
Cordelia examined the placement of a rook on the board. “Do you know the Shahnameh?”
“The Book of Kings,” said James. “Persian legends.”