“Don’t you worry. I’ll use braces by the weekend and walk without aid by Monday. Aether works fast, but we old folks just don’t heal as quickly as the youth. Children”—Lord Davis turns to us, and gives me a wink—“why don’t you join the chapter in the dining room. I’ll guide our guests to the kitchen, where our hired catering staff dropped off the meal.”

“The Order of the Rose?” I hiss as we walk, still fuming.

Nick grumbles, “A women’s auxiliary founded centuries ago when they couldn’t Page, Squire, or Scion. Mostly ceremonial now. A way for mothers or former Pages to support chapter events.”

All I see are obstacles. Women who want their children in my spot. White women who assume a Black girl in the Lodge is a servant, not a member. Certainly not someone who outranks them. If Virginia treats me like that, how does she treat the caterers? My skin crawls. Then, something strikes me.

“Did you say women couldn’t be Scions? I thought the Spell followed the bloodline, no matter who was eligible.”

“It does.” Nick’s jaw tightens. “But for a long time, men didn’t care what the Spell wanted. They’d eliminate daughters to force it to the next heir.”

I stop walking and stare at him, my stomach twisting in horror.

He pauses at the dining room entrance. “Fifteen hundred years is a long time to operate. The Order was never above the world’s brutality. It still isn’t.”

“That’s… disgusting.”

“That’s what happens when you lead with fear and greed.”

“Bree! Over here!” Greer waves me over, the Lamorak coin winking on their red bracelet. “Saved you a seat!”

Nick tilts his head. “That’s our cue.”

Still reeling from his revelation, I follow him into the room.

Nick makes his way to the Legendborn table where the Scions, Squires, and Sel sit. I slide into the open chair between Greer and Whitty at the Pages table, grateful to be between people I know.

Whitty digs into what looks like flank steak with fresh rosemary, while Greer passes me an enormous white stoneware dish of scalloped potatoes. “I was worried you dropped out.”

“Nope. Not a quitter.”

“A cheat, then?” Vaughn calls from across the table without looking up from his plate. As soon as the words leave his mouth, silence falls across the table.

The twist in my stomach tightens into a cold knot.

“Not a cheat, either.”