“And who is this ravishing lady? One of yours?” the man asked now, threatening the shirt buttons protruding from his chest. At the mention of a lady, the other men in the grouping turned from their conversation and perused me.
Tamir introduced me as Miranda, a Cutter, and Theo as James, a Smith, and there was not a flicker of suspicion among them. They were too impeded by drink, too struck by the prospect of new flesh. The clawing commenced.
“A pleasure to meet you, my lady. I’m Mr. Langley.”
“Mr. Tunney, Miss. Might I tempt you to dance?”
“You may have heard of me already. Frederick Dunce? Purveyor of special artifacts at the archives?”
I was the diamond, sharp and glinting. And though my stomach twisted, and the rage gnashed, I lowered my eyelids a fraction and tilted my head to the side.
“The archives?” I repeated with just the right amount of breath intertwined that I seemed like an idiot.
Oh, how menlovedan idiot.
“Yes,” Frederick said, a smile laced in it. He lowered his head as though the gravity of his duties were a burden. “In the relics tower. It is quite a heavily guarded department. In truth, I’m not supposed to speak of it.”
“But then”—and I pressed my hand to my bosom—“you must be a Scribbler of high order?”
The other men guffawed into their drinks, and Frederick glowered at them.
“High order?” Mr. Langley laughed. “Quite impossible. Frederick has never turned in a single article on time.”
Frederick downed the rest of his whiskey in one punishing swallow.
“So then, which of you is?” asked Theo, and the laughter ceased.
Each of their eyes flickered to his, as though just realizing him. The music belted in.
Mr. Tunney seemed to sober immediately, his eyes narrowing. “Where is it you said you were from?”
Theo stared back coldly.
“Fenway,” I offered, brightening my smile to a sickening voltage. “He supervises the timber mill.”
The men rolled their eyes, grunted laughter into their drinks, dragged on their cigars as though they could not imagine a lesser fate.
“And what of you?” said Frederick. “What brings you to our fair Morland?” He seemed the youngest of the group and was the only one without a wedding ring. He had damningly thin auburn hair and a weak chin. But he watched me with the most intent, tottered the most often. Already he’d commandeered another drink from a passing server.
I tried to look small, willing. “I’m most curious to know its people.”
It was difficult to tell if Frederick was, firstly, still in possession of his magic, and secondly, a Scribbler accomplished in translation, but he was, at the very least, enthusiastic. He took me first to the bar and collected aglass of champagne for me. He didn’t seem to notice when I refrained from drinking it. He spoke at length about the archive towers, their rich history (which I already knew), the view from his office window (which I needn’t know), and more about Morland. When I prompted, he assured me that he was still receiving biannual doses of idium despite the shortage crisis. When I pushed gently on his chest, rolling my eyes and calling him a liar, he caught my hand in his. “Shall I prove it?” he slurred, leaning in.
I then felt a scratch on my thigh, the skin just above my knee itching momentarily.
I let the split in my skirt fall aside, revealing the wet ink he’d left there. The name of a building. A room number. A question mark.
I smiled coyly, looked deep into his eyes, felt bile pocket in my throat. “What other marks might you leave on me?” I whispered.
Always, Theo remained just over my shoulder. I felt him burning in my periphery. He was approached by countless women, all of them dressed impeccably, and he gently declined them all.
I ignored him entirely.
It didn’t take all that much to turn the conversation back on itself, in the end. Frederick was practically sideways with drink. I was beginning to suspect the tulleyroot wouldn’t be needed. “I once corresponded on behalf of Lord Tanner!” he was saying now. “Did you know he had a mistress? ACrafter?”
I feigned shock, leaned in close enough that he blinked, licked his lips. “Lord Tanner himself?” I said. “But then, you must be quite accomplished, to be trusted by the Head of House.”
And Frederick grinned foolishly, his eyes on my lips. “Oh, I am, my dear,” he said. “Accomplished in many things, in fact.”
