Surely there would be food at the party? If not, I could get something from the Candle on the way home. I pulled on a dress, knee-length and pale blue. My mother had seldom attended these things, and I had never been invited before now.

A group of Acolytes from Judicial Affairs lounged in the stairwell outside my room, chatting.

“Where are you off to, El?” one of them asked.

“Going to see some friends,” I replied.

“How nice.”

As promised, a carriage waited at the end of the street. The heavy brown cart-horse watched me approach. The driver, apparently asleep, wore his wide-brimmed hat over his face and slouched sideways on his seat, legs dangling over the edge. The air was calm and mild, the faint breeze cooling my still-damp hair. Between banks of pale cloud, the first stars had appeared.

“Excuse me,” I said, as I drew nearer the carriage. “I’m not sure…”

The man stirred, yawned, and lifted his hat. “Ah, Acolyte Raughn. Greetings.”

My stomach sank, and I almost swore. This must be Rhyanon’s idea of a joke.

The driver was the same man who had accosted me in the park.

“Huh.” He sat up and studied my face with interest. “After last time, I was expecting more of a reaction.”

“Just … just take me to the party.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He offered me his hand. His palms were heavily calloused. “Osan Jerone, at your service.”

I ignored him and climbed into the back of the vehicle. He slid open the front-facing window.

“Admittedly, we might not have got off to the best start.”

“You humiliated me.”

“Not really. Everyone else was in on it.”

“That makes it worse.” I fixed my gaze on the road ahead and breathed out heavily. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Can we get this over with?”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself. He gathered up the reins. “Sure. Your dress is in the box beneath the bench.”

“I’m already dressed.”

“Not for a Reverend’s party.” He clicked his tongue, and we rolled forward.

Rhyanon had misjudged my measurements. I didn’t fill out the bust of the dress, and it hugged uncomfortably tight across my hips. I spread the skirts around me, running my hands over waves of soft green velvet. Even ill-fitted, it was undeniably lovely. Tiny embroidered peonies danced along the shoulders and neckline, like a basket of flowers had been overturned above my head.

“Everything okay back there?” Osan called.

I don’t belong in a dress like this. “I’m fine.”

“It fits?”

“It’s fine.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll pay her back, but I can’t afford it right now. This seems expensive.”

He snorted. “You don’t need to pay.”

I drew back the curtains. He glanced over his shoulder.

“The colour looks good on you,” he said.

“What does Rhyanon want?”

“Don’t use names in public.”

Over the rattling of the wheels and the horse’s hooves, I doubted anyone would hear us. “What does she want?”