The smile that broke out on his face could have easily slain a lesser woman. “So I would be delighted,” he told me. “But we may have to bring unwanted company along, I’m afraid. Those three creatures of Netherpool’s—”

“Oh, their poor mouths!” I groaned with newly-remembered aggravation. “What was he thinking when he created them? Of course they’ll need to be treated as soon as possible. And whatever he’s done to their eyes must hurt dreadfully. I was actually thinking that I might…”

We were still talking it through a few minutes later as the final layer of metal armour neatly reapplied itself to my gown.

My iron butterfly clips circled busily through the air above both of our heads as we walked together out of the necromancers’ ball, bringing the three new shambling minions along with us and exchanging social waves with the Countess.

“We’ll be seeing each other again very soon, Miss Brandt!” she caroled throatily after me.

“I’m sure we will,” I murmured under my breath—but I couldn’t help a rueful smile at the thought.

A flamboyantly sinister countess would be coming to call at our little cottage. So much for all of my old dreams of appearing respectable!

But then, Leander Fabian was coming to tea tonight with me and my father, and I never would have expected that, either. Apparently, we would both be getting to know each other’s families…and as I stepped back into Leander’s midnight-black carriage, I found myself thinking—for the first time in my life—that I might not even mind learning to dance, myself, one day.

I just had to make sure that I was choosing the right partner.

Fine Deceptions

I was in the middle of pouring tea for a wicked countess when a sudden crash sounded from my workshop and sent me into a spinning lathe of panic.

Today’s unexpected arrival, in her sweeping crimson-and-black gown and bone jewelry, was only the second guest I had ever allowed into my home, so I wasn’t sure exactly what social etiquette required. Still, my father had done his best to teach me good manners across my life, and anyone with a working brain knew it was sensible not to offend a powerful necromancer when she visited your cottage.

My last workshop had been burned to the ground by our old neighbors, though, so that crash acted like a crack of lightning on my spine, bypassing my brain entirely. I dropped the teapot without a word and lunged for the closed door of the workshop that no one had ever stepped inside except for me.

As hot tea spattered in my wake, the Countess Cardenza let out a few truly remarkable words of her own…

And I flung open the door, ready to summon a metal storm of retribution against our new intruders.