“No . . . I mean, even if you were. Judin’s about the unluckiest Beloved to be born under—nobody wants to name their child for her. So they wouldn’t, Cakes. They’d squint at the sun and say it was as near up as not, and name the babe after Grayglory. The nursemaid wanted to say I was born before sunset, so I’d be a child of Boniface, not Palpitattle, only my father was . . . my father wasn’t like anybody else.”

“You mean . . . people might . . . lie about names?” The two girls stared at each other as they grappled with the concept. It was like trying to imagine someone peeling off their own face to put on a false one. How would they put their own name on again afterward? Wouldn’t the Beloved they were born under be angry? The name you gave a child was as indelible as a brand, it was who they would become . . . and nobody, not even the slippery Eponymous Clent, ever lied about their name . . .

“I think somebody has,” Mosca said slowly. “Did you see where the couple came from?”

“The river, I think. Yes, that was it, I saw them stepping off one of the ragmen’s boats when I was out feeding the chickens. I suppose he must have given them a lift out of kindness.” The Cakes’s smile faded as she remembered that she was not talking to Mosca.

“I’m going to fix everything,” Mosca promised, without knowing quite what she planned to do. “Where do I find the ragmen?”

“Most of them are at the market—west side of the island.” The Cakes had withdrawn behind a stony expression once more, so Mosca took the hint and left her to herself.

It was true, then. The revelation that had dazzled her as she sat before the mirror was true. Why had she never stopped to wonder how Partridge had entered the marriage house in the first place? Now she knew.

Partridge had entered the house disguised as a woman, with a full-brimmed bonnet that fell over his face. He had been guided into a chapel, he had been married for a handful of shillings, he had been helped in signing the register, he had been half carried to one of the private rooms. And Partridge had objected to none of this because Partridge had already been dead.