For once, the words were right there on the tip of her tongue. “To see the Love Knot Tine,” she said. “Because of the queen’s seal in my cloak, I thought that maybe seeing it with my own eyes would help jog the memory of when I received my cloak.”

“And did it work?”

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Claire said. “I can’t really see it that well through the glass. But maybe if it was opened?” she suggested hopefully. She held her breath as the director gave her a piercing look.

“I don’t think that’s wise, even if it were possible,” he said at last. “If you had come a month ago, you would have seen the crown clearly, no vault grown around it. But as it is, the vault is newly set, and can only be opened by the queen’s hand.”

The director sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is much too distracting,” he said. “I think it would be best to send for Grandmaster Bobbin and make this his problem—”

“I’ll look after her.”

Claire turned her head and saw, to her surprise, that Kleo had spoken up. “I need an extra pair of hands if the sets are to be ready in time for the coronation.”

There was one more beat of silence, and then the director let out his breath. “Very well, then. Elaina can assist until her parents come to claim her, but if you disturb my rehearsal again,” he warned, “you will face much more than a Smother-Ring—I guarantee that.”

Claire could manage only a shallow nod as the director shepherded his flock of dancers and Lyric back to the stage, leaving Claire alone with Kleo.

Suddenly, it felt like she was in the Smother-Ring all over again. Was Kleo going to summon Fray? Would she tell on her? But it seemed the older girl truly didn’t recognize her, because she gave Claire a friendly smile. “Follow me, Elaina. I need some help polishing the shoes for act three.”

Claire’s heartbeat began to return to its normal rate. Maybe everything wasn’t lost after all. Maybe she would be able to figure out a way to break the tine free. She thought about what the director had said: only Queen Estelle’s hand could open the lock. If she were a Gemmer master or even a Gemmer journeyman, maybe she would have been able to sculpt a hand that looked like Queen Estelle’s or find a statue of her and animate it just enough to open the glass box. But Claire had only been able to chisel a rather misshapen boat from pumice rock back at the Citadel.