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“You’re late,” she says.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. She gives me the briefest once-over and leaves for the Duchess’s chambers.

“Sleep late?” Zara says kindly. Her face is smudged with flour, her arms up to the elbows in a giant mound of dough.

“I forgot where I was,” I say in a moment of blunt honesty.

Zara laughs at that.

There are breakfast trays laid out on a counter. I assume Coral’s is the one with the pink cup on it. The nice Regimental, Three, and a footman are standing together by the door to the garden, reading the morning paper with identical frowns. For a moment, I panic. Has Ash been sighted? Caught already?

Three looks up as I pass. “Morning, Imogen.”

“Bad news?” I ask casually.

“Those Black Keys killed a magistrate last night,” he says. “One of the top ones, too, in the Smoke. The Exetor will have to replace him quickly.”

“Oh,” I say, grabbing the tray, grateful that Ash seems to have survived the night. It’s only when I’m back in the stone corridor that I realize I don’t know where I’m going. Two seconds later, Mary brushes past me with Carnelian’s tray.

“This way,” she says in a clipped, aggravated tone.

We climb back up the staircase to the tapestry but don’t go through the woven fabric—instead I see that another set of stairs leads up to the second floor of the palace.

We emerge from behind a large pedestal holding a bust of one of the former Dukes of the Lake. I recognize the corridor to the men’s quarters.

I get to the door and pause. Do I knock? I don’t remember Annabelle knocking. Taking a deep breath, I balance the tray in one hand and open the door.

No one is in the blue-striped drawing room but I find Garnet sitting at the breakfast nook in the horrifically pink room. A handsome footman is laying a napkin in his lap.

Garnet gives me only a cursory glance. “Go on in, she’s in bed.”

Coral is still pulling on the fabric by her nightstand when I enter. Her whole face lights up when she sees me.

“Where would you like your breakfast, miss?” The tray is starting to hurt my wrists.

“On that table there. And pick me out a dress. I’m going to visit Mother today.”

I put the tray down and head over to her closets, perusing the various colors and styles. I bet Ash would know exactly what to choose. I see a peach-colored dress that reminds me of one Annabelle put me in, so I grab that and lay it out on Coral’s bed.

“So,” Coral says, crossing her legs and looking at me over her cup of coffee. “What’s the gossip?”

I blink. “I beg your pardon, miss?”

She puts the cup down and begins salting her fried eggs. “From downstairs. What’s happening with the servants? Any trysts? Broken hearts? Fights among Regimentals? Tell me, I must know.” She sighs. “I miss my old home sometimes. My maid would always fill me in over breakfast.”

I busy myself by opening her curtains and tying them back. What sort of gossip am I meant to know about?

“A magistrate was killed last night,” I say. “In the Smoke.”

“Imogen, that’s so depressing. Mother never let me read anything about the lower circles. She says they are dull and sad and nothing I need concern myself with.”

Dull and sad? My hand clenches around the velvet curtain and I tie it extra tight.

“Oh! I forgot to ask Garnet if he’d come with me to Mother’s today,” she says, taking a bite of her eggs. “Will you—”

“I’ll go ask him, miss.”

Grateful for the excuse to leave, I slip out of Coral’s bedroom, closing the door behind me, and find Garnet still at the breakfast nook.