I simply clutched his arm with all the tension I held inside me.

He winced. “Heavens, alright then. Things are not going well.” He tripped on a stair before regaining his composure. “But Aurelie, why did I see Jaspar Plattenat  enter the parlor? Do you have any idea who he is? No, do you have any idea who he is to  Isther ? What did he say? What did he do? What did he want ?”

I wanted to erase the entire evening from existence—oh how fortunate it would be to take on the mind of a pyre, who by nature would lose memories one by one—but the remembrance of Duval Rennington holding my hand as he paraded me around the banquet made my arm throb. I did not want Isther’s beau. I did not want any  man of any  sort at any  time for  any  reason.

“Aurelie, wait, wait. I got distracted by Jaspar and I almost forgot what I came to tell you. It is of the utmost urgency. I cann—”

But Niall’s urgent matter would have to wait. For Poppy Rennington hustled up the stairs,  blowing past us with a waft of perfume so strong that even the pyres gagged. She held her gown so high in the air as she ran that all could see her stockinged shins.

“She’s coming, she’s coming ,” she panted as she cleared the stairs and maneuvered down the long hallway.

Alabaster was next, also speeding past us. “You had better hide if you know what’s good for you,” she called out over her lean shoulder. “I am pretty sure I saw Royce dive into a cupboard…for his own safety.” And, much quicker than Poppy, she sprinted down a corridor and out of sight.

Oeric, who was just about to descend the staircase, heeded their warning and turned heel, following after his wife.

“Have you seen Ruxley?” Poppy called out as she heard her husband behind her.

“Leave him!” Oeric answered, and they both vacated the area by ducking into the tea room.

It was then that I heard the quick and light footsteps of a woman in just the right shoes for managing an expedient pace and keeping toe with the fashions of the time.

“ You !” Isther cried out as she dived into me.

She grabbed my waist and pulled, trying to yank me down the stairs, but I clutched the banister just in time. She crawled up, taking a fistful of my hair, and I kneed her quite squarely in the jaw.

“You  stole him from me?!” she cried, digging her nails into any part of my skin she could reach.

I had stolen nothing from her, for I would not marry Jaspar Plattenat no matter how intently he stared into my eyes. And so, I formed my hand into a fist and pummeled Isther once in the stomach and then another time her lovely high cheekbone, for good measure.