“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Neven,” the countess said with a smile, which only made her eyes burn colder. I noticed she cast no shadow on the floor. “My son spoke very highly of you when I saw him last week.”

My mind went blank as I held her stare. I was acutely aware of the bloodstains on my chemise, the wrinkles in the gauzy fabric, the snarls in my hair. I knew I appeared like I had just risen from the gutter, and I swallowed, uncertain how to save this first impression of myself.

Phelan, of course, blithely continued to sleep, and I regretted giving him such a strong tonic.

“My lady,” I said, and slipped hastily from Phelan’s bed, as if the coverlet had caught fire. “Your son fought valiantly last night but was wounded. I felt it best to stay beside him until morning.”

“And I thank you for your diligence, Miss Neven,” said Lady Raven. “I can handle it from here, and I would appreciate if you kept my son’s wound a secret.”

I dropped a crooked curtsy, feeling as if every one of my bones had come out of socket. Mrs. Stirling hesitated before granting me a gentle nod, but I departed as swiftly as I could, retreating to the safety of my bedchamber.

I sat in the shadows until my cheeks had cooled, and I opened my curtains and my shutters, basking in the morning light. I washed my face and shattered the mirror that hung on the wall because I was weary of seeing myself. I watched the cracks in the glass spread into a glittering web, until Clem was broken into an array of pieces, and yet I still didn’t feel satisfied.

I needed to get out of this house, and I swiftly dressed and brushed the tangles from my hair, quietly descending the stairs.

I emerged onto the front porch, standing in the very place the knight had stood only hours ago. I shivered in the sun, longing for home. To rest in a place where I didn’t have to pretend. And I cast my stealth charm and began to walk north.

Imonie was shocked to see me at the door. She had the town house to herself, and was in the middle of scrubbing the hallway when I arrived.

“What happened?” she asked, tossing down her bristle brush to greet me.

“Why does everyone assume something terrible has happened every time they see me?” I asked, exasperated.

Imonie pursed her lips, but I noticed how her eyes flickered over me, from head to foot. As if ensuring I was hale. “Well, it was the new moon last night. I take it you were victorious?”

I only sighed.

Her eyes narrowed. “I think this conversation calls for tea. And a hot breakfast. Come here, Clem.”