“I must. She’s supposed to be near me at all times.”

“Excellent.” He hesitated, then continued with less confidence than I’d ever heard from him. “She’s an amazing woman, Amalia. I’ve never seen such a bold spark in a lady. She speaks the truth without fear, and there’s more fire in her eyes than magic alone can account for. I … Well, I think she’s …” He swallowed and drew himself up into a more formal posture. “I have a great admiration for her.”

My guilt over using him to spy on his brother folded double. “She certainly is unique.”

“Do you know …” He grimaced. “I gather her family is of less than noble birth.”

“Rather less, yes.”

“Still, that shouldn’t be important. Rank is a mere footnote in matters of the heart.”

His words pricked me in a Marcello-shaped sore place. I couldn’t even manage a nod. Had the Graces sent him to this party explicitly to make me feel like a terrible person?

Domenic took a deep breath. “Amalia, in all honesty, tell me, as a friend—what does Zaira think of me?”

I wished I could be anywhere but this vile garden. I had no stomach for more lies. Zaira was a terrible match; as his friend, I couldn’t in good conscience encourage him in his affections.

But if I pushed him away from Zaira due to differences of rank and class, I’d be no better than my mother.

“She …” She thinks you have a firm … stride. A nervous giggle fluttered in my stomach. “She admires you, Domenic.”

His eyes glowed at the words. “She does?”

“How could she not?” I lightened my tone, pushing past the stiffness in my throat. “Everyone does. You possess an exemplary assortment of fine qualities.”

Domenic laughed. “You flatter me, Amalia. But thank you. And in that case, I very much look forward to seeing her at the party, too.”

“I look forward to it as well.”

I refrained from adding, with dread. But I thought it, rubbing my arms to warm them against the cold night air.

Late in the evening, when the older and stodgier guests had gone home and the food was running out, I pulled Zaira aside into the chilly marble foyer, currently empty.

“What do you think?” I asked her, my voice low.

Zaira leered. “The girl in the peacock-blue gown packs a fine corset, but I’d still go with Domenic. He has the nicest—”

“I mean do you have any suspects?” I interrupted.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re all guilty of something.”

“For who might be trying to incite a war.” I pushed the words out through my teeth. “I’m asking because I think you’re observant and intelligent, no matter how you may try to convince me of the contrary.”