“That’s what she lets you see. She squirrels all her money away into her house in the Middling quarter.”

My stomach turned to stone. “She has a house in the Middling quarter?”

His smile was narrow and mean. “Go see for yourself. You think she loves you? Go see what her love looks like.”

“That’s too big a secret,” I protested. “A whole house? So much money?”

“Everyone’s heard the rumor.”

“People would tell me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Why? Why would everyone keep such a secret from me?”

“People had different reasons. Some feared Raven’s reprisal if they told. She could denounce them for crimes, or refuse to sell them a passport. Others worried you would stop forging if you knew. As for me, stupid me, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Devastation must have been written on my face. My eyes stung. My breath failed me, and I couldn’t speak for a moment, so certain was I that anything I could say would sound broken, a pathetic denial of what I fully, terribly believed.

46

THE HOUSE WAS AS ELEGANT as a Middling house could be. It didn’t break any rules. The trim under the eaves was as delicate as lace yet restrained in color, painted in a silvery green like the underside of an olive leaf. Bay windows bulged out like pretty blisters, yet with no stained glass. The hardware on the green door was iron, not brass, and the flower boxes held simple sea violets in shades of cream and powdery blue and lavender. The window frames were a freshly painted black, and although no detail broke a law, it was nonetheless a more beautiful house than any on the street: daring in its aggressive newness, in its sparkling windows and slick paint and flowers carefully plucked of any imperfect petals. It was a house that proclaimed itself as loudly as was allowed. Before I had left the Ward, I couldn’t have dreamed that such a house existed. Even if I had seen drawings in one of Harvers’s books, I would have thought it was a fantasy.

The door had no knocker, but a little iron button studded into its center. I had never seen its like before, but I pressed it and heard a musical, muted chime echo behind the door. My heart welled with a sick, poisonous hope. Aden had lied to hurt me. Or if he had told the truth, it could be explained.

I was Raven’s girl. Her lamb.

This house must belong to someone else, a stranger, who would ask why I was there.

My mistake, I would say.

The door opened. A relieved breath fluttered from my lips.

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened. Nervous fingers straightened her pale blue dress and tucked black tendrils of hair behind her ears. “Forgive my appearance, my lady. I didn’t expect—”