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O N FRIDAY , THEY FOLLOWED THE NOW-FAMILIAR PATH to the courtyard, though she fell in step with him easily this time. She refrained from playing with her collar as best she could, but she felt the note burning her skin.

That day, after a lot of trial and error to get words to fit on a paper so small, Briony landed on something that was at least an opening of communication.

safe, Biney

Only Sammy, Didion, or Cordelia would know that “Biney” was what Rory had called her when he couldn’t pronounce Briony. She promised herself that the next time she had an opportunity to pass a note, she would have something solid from her research to pass on.

Caspar Quill had mentioned the Durlings, and try as she might, she hadn’t found a thing about them in the Hearst library.

They moved through the gardens with the reflection ponds and headed toward the entry hall.

Briony was in tight blue lace tonight, something that almost would have been reminiscent of Bomardi fashion if it hadn’t been so short.

Larissa had come by to get her ready again, but she’d transmogrified herself into Juliana, the president’s daughter, for the entire hour. Briony and Toven both agreed she could attend the party tonight.

As olive hands had spread powder on Briony’s face, she asked Larissa, “Was Toven averse to physical touch at some point before he was comfortable with you?”

Larissa, in Juliana’s face, stopped what she was doing and raised a brow at her. “What?”

“He doesn’t like it when I play with the hair on the back of his head. And I tried kissing his neck and he pushed me off him.”

Larissa stared down at her from someone else’s eyes, but that same look of disbelief was there.

“So I guess, I wonder if he just doesn’t like physical touch, or—”

“I can’t with this.” Larissa had thrown down the brushes and left Briony to fend for herself.

They reached the doors, but Ilana wasn’t the one to greet them. A redhead with a large chest smiled at Toven and didn’t give Briony a glance.

She gave them champagne and that was it. She opened the curtain without giving Toven a guest sheet.

Briony found Phoebe hanging off Carvin’s arm across the entry hall, smiling as his hand drifted lower on her back.

But Briony’s interest was elsewhere, her eyes wide and alert for any sign of the strawberry-blonde.

Before she could get a decent look around the room, Toven was leading her up the twisting steps, through the guard’s check, and into the dining room.

Briony swallowed her disappointment, wondering if she’d made a mistake by not telling him about the note she needed to pass.

The first thing she noticed was Finn Raquin laughing jovially at something Liam had said, and Larissa disguised as Juliana standing against the wall behind him.

Her eyes darted behind Liam’s chair and found a different Barlowe Girl waiting quietly to pour the wine.

She scanned, but there was still not a trace of Strawberry-Blonde in the room.

The disappointment in her stomach twisted more heavily.

“Be still my heart,” a voice called out as the door shut behind them, and Briony turned to find Canning Trow bowing dramatically at her. “My lady approaches.”

She cast her eyes down, ready to play her part.

“Oh, love,” Canning crooned, “did Toven whomp you good and proper after last week? Never one to share, our boy. Why don’t you bend over my lap so I can kiss it better?”

The young men laughed as Toven took his seat, his jaw barely tensing before it loosened in a grin. As she assumed her position in front of the window, she glanced to the left at Larissa behind Finn’s chair.

The young woman Larissa was pretending to be was so small and young. Her eyes were staring down at her shoes, her wrists thin and crossed submissively in front of her stomach. Briony didn’t know how much was an act and how much was sheer concentration on the magic on Larissa’s part.

Briony tore her eyes from her, determined not to attract suspicion.

The eight women stepped forward, pouring wine into crystal glasses, and before Briony could return to the wall, Toven’s arm was around her waist, guiding her to his lap.

Other than Finn lifting a theatrical brow at them, no one else said a word about it.

Briony was quite pleased with their “practicing” paying off, but she did have a moment of guilt for the extra minutes Cecily had to spend against Collin’s chest when he quickly followed Toven’s lead.

She crossed her legs in her little lace dress, tilting her knees toward Toven’s waist. His left arm slipped over her hip, holding her to him instead of clenching his fingers tight around the arm of the chair.

When she shifted in his lap, nuzzling into his neck and letting her fingers play with the hair on the back of his head, he didn’t flinch.

She felt giddy with success. Their time together had been worth it, just as she’d predicted.

Nothing noteworthy had caught her ear in the table’s conversation after the first half hour. But then Liam’s voice rang out above the others.

“There’s a Summer Cannon tonight,” he said, lazily twirling his fork in the air.

A collective murmur of interest swept over the table. Briony narrowed her eyes at Liam, wondering what that meant. The Summer Cannon usually went off at noon.

Toven’s thighs tensed beneath hers. She dragged her fingers through his hair, rubbing circles in his scalp.

“I love dinner and a show,” Canning said, and the table erupted into laughter.

Toven’s hand squeezed her hip, shivering her skin pleasantly. She caught herself, refocusing. She had more pressing concerns, like whether this new event would cut into her time to find the strawberry-blonde.

It was a rather uneventful evening in the dining room, despite the hours they sat there talking and laughing.

Then a chiming sounded, amplified throughout the dining room, cutting off the music and silencing the voices in surprise. Briony looked up, searching for the source. The clock on the wall read quarter till midnight.

The men cheered, grabbing their drinks and gripping their women close, rubbing their hands together.

Toven peeled her off him, all tension returning to his body. Finn shared a look with Juliana—Larissa.

“What is it?” Briony whispered to Toven.

He shook his head at her in warning and followed the others as they descended the staircase into the entrance hall. She kept her eyes open for the strawberry-blonde, searching the crowd of people as they headed to the exits into the courtyard.

Her hand reached for her collar to adjust it, and she caught herself.

“I’ll get us drinks,” Toven announced to Finn and Larissa. “See you outside.”

Briony turned up to Toven as he steered them toward the hallway. Her mouth opened to ask—

“Don’t,” he hissed. “Just trust me on this.”

Her heart pounded in her ears as Toven led them around the crowd, suddenly cutting left to the gardens where they could portal from.

“Not leaving already, Toven?”

Briony’s blood chilled. Toven stilled next to her. When he turned them around, she already knew who would be standing there.

Veronika Mallow wore flowing deep purple. Her hair was pulled back tightly, lifting her features into youthful surprise. She was flanked by two Bomardi guards.

Toven dropped into a deep bow, and Briony followed, taking a moment to grasp her meditations.

In her mind, she stuck the note she’d received under her collar in between the pages of a worn book and shoved it deep on a shelf. She wrote Larissa’s name on a blank page and closed it, locking it tight.

Once she’d risen, she met Mallow’s black eyes.

“Apologies, Mistress,” Toven said. “I was a bit zealous in my attempts to … get somewhere private.” His voice dropped seductively.

Mallow smiled, her gaze still on Briony.

“You can’t go just yet,” she said firmly. “You must join me for the show.”

Toven inclined his head. “It would be an honor, Mistress.”

Mallow whispered something to her guard as she turned, not even checking that they were following her.

Briony’s head spun as she fought back all the things she couldn’t let Mallow see inside her mind.

Toven wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her forward with him.

They moved into the chill of the courtyard, and she chanced a look to Toven’s face—stony, impassive.

A cold horror began building in her chest as they walked into the crowd gathering at the base of the hill.

The courtyard looked out over the horizon and was filled with blue cloaks and shivering heartsprings.

Toven walked her behind Mallow and her guards, and the crowd parted for them, watching them pass with reverence.

Briony checked the skies, wondering about the “no dragon” portion of the note.

There was no sign of the beast. The note under her collar tonight was itching, and she considered abandoning her plan.

Was it too dangerous to pass notes under Mallow’s nose?

Mallow’s purple cloak followed her up three steps to a platform, and Toven and Briony did the same. Cohle, Gains, and Quill were there. They bowed deeply to Mallow, yet their eyes cast over Briony hungrily.

She was the only heartspring on the platform.

But while they were the ones elevated, she realized the platform was not the set scene. To Briony’s left she saw light being directed toward the front of the crowd at the palace ledge.

Briony’s heart jumped in her throat. The strawberry-blonde stood at the front of the crowd, standing against the ledge overlooking the city.

She gasped breathlessly, stunned into silence. Sound disappeared in a vacuum.