Again, the silence was thick enough to drown in. I glanced from Papa to my mother to Imonie. Why were they acting so strange?

At last, Papa dropped his gaze as he viciously cut into his pie, and said, “I have no idea what that date means. But thank you, Clem, for the news. I hope you’re being very careful.”

“Yes,” I said, but I felt no better for having shared what I had learned. And even though Imonie’s chocolate pie was my favorite, it suddenly tasted like ash in my mouth.

Phelan was home when I returned to his place later that night. I followed a trail of light into the library and found him sitting at his desk, his face buried in his hands, jacket thrown over the back of the chair. His cravat was untethered from his neck, his waistcoat unbuttoned down his chest, and he had cast off his boots. His socks were surprisingly mismatched. It was the most undone I had ever seen him.

I stopped just within the threshold, uncertain if he wanted my company until he raised his head and looked at me.

“Long day?” I gently inquired.

“Hmm.” He reached for a teapot and poured two cups.

I drew up a chair, keeping the desk between us, and I accepted the cup. I studied him in the candlelight, the lines on his brow, the pallor of his face.

“I know this is none of my business,” I began. “But if you tell me what’s ailing you . . . perhaps I can be of assistance, Mr. Vesper.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Really? Who?”

“A magician.”

“He must be an old friend of yours?”

“She is not an old friend.”

“A former lover, then?”

He nearly choked on his tea. “No, not a lover. A rival would be a better term. She despises me.”

“Ah,” I said, pleased as I realized he was talking about me. “Why are you seeking this rival, then?”

“She possesses knowledge of something that’s very important.”

“And you think she would tell you as soon as you found her?” I countered. “Given that the two of you are not friends.”

Phelan leveled his eyes at me. For a moment, I feared he had sensed my wicked amusement, savoring this humiliating moment of his, but he exhaled a long breath and said, “You’re probably right, Miss Neven. Even if I found her, she wouldn’t want to tell me anything.”

“You could enchant her to tell you,” I nonchalantly suggested, curious to know if he would do such a thing.

“No,” he said swiftly. “That sort of magic is illegal and deplorable. But perhaps there is another route I can take.”