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“Mother, she made me bring her here!” Adola, who I’d almost forgotten about, shoves her way through the crowd toward us. “She threatened to kill me.”

“Hush your mouth, girl, before you embarrass yourself.” Beaulah turns to me, and under her breath, she asks, “Is this true?”

Not exactly, but she needs to know I’m serious. “Yes.”

She pets my hand. “Next time you want to coerce someone, it is much safer to use your toushana to destroy their memory of helping you. It’s painful for them, but only for a moment.”

I swallow hard, unsure what to say.

“I was told you weren’t feeling well this evening,” she says to Adola, whose gaze darts to me. But I keep my mouth shut. “Calm yourself down, dear. Quell won’t bat an eye at anything she sees here.” She watches for my reaction before smoothing Adola’s cheeks. “You’re a Perl. Everyone expects you to shine. Mingle. In a bit, I might have you demonstrate some of your own shadow magic for us.”

Adola’s heart speeds up. “Please, not tonight.” She smiles plastically.

Curious…Beaulah’s heir is intimidated by the use of dark magic or something.

“She can be so shy sometimes,” Beaulah says to me. “Some other time.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Adola curtsies and rushes away.

We walk and I lose sight of Adola among the festive crowd dancing and nibbling hors d’oeuvres being passed around on trays.

“There is toushana in this room,” I say, unable to resist. “Are others here…bound to it like me?”

“Oh, no, no one here was born with toushana. We haven’t been that fortunate. But we do dabble.” She winks and it unsettles me. I spent my entire life running from the Order because of who I am. None of this makes any sense.

I study the crowd, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. A gentleman in a corner streams blackness to something small until it’s a pile of ash. Then he sweeps the ash into his palm and tosses it into his mouth.

“Is that going to hurt him?”

“Taylor has an eccentric appetite. Don’t mind him.”

Across the room, a lady throws her head back in laughter while massaging a fist of thrashing shadows. The air buzzes with dark magic. I skim faces for scorn, fidgety hands, raised brows, discomfort, or judgment, but there are only jazzed smiles and a festive atmosphere. Beaulah’s beside me, standing tall, her shoulders pulled back. A smile spreads across her face.

She’s proud…

I let my arms hang loose at my sides but hesitate to release my tight fists.

“You don’t fear toushana.”

“I only fear one thing: the unknown.”

I look for some hint of dishonesty in her, but she doesn’t even flinch.

“Not even with the Sphere’s condition?” She must fear for the Order.

She tidies the fur sloped across her shoulders. “That will all be in hand soon. The Dragunhead is quite competent.” She turns a gemless gold ring on her finger.

“Does he know you openly allow toushana use here?” An odd feeling wraps around my ribs just hearing myself say the words aloud.

“Openly? Who’s watching?”

There isn’t a single window in this room, and it wasn’t exactly easy to find. Getting onto the grounds was nearly impossible. Adola fought me to come here because she didn’t want to be responsible for outing her aunt’s secret. I watch faint whiffs of darkness hanging in the air. The cold lurking beneath my skin quiets, and my fists finally come undone. The toushana they use is called to themselves. It’s not inside them, like mine is, as she said. None of them are bound. But still. I blow out a shaky breath.

“What kind of party is this?”

“We miss the business of the Season’s Rites and Cotillions, so we use the off-Season time to host our Virtue Pin Trials. It’s a Perl tradition. I like to recognize distinguished accomplishment. A House thrives on the dedication of its members. And nothing breeds dedication more than pride.”

Beaulah wears six gold pins, like the ones Jordan had, nestled in her shawl.