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The Black Key

Page 33

by Amy Ewing

“How long was she ringing that bell for?” he asks with a grin.

“Ages,” I say.

“She’s nothing if not persistent.”

“She wanted me to ask you if you’re coming with her to her mother’s house today.”

Garnet wipes his mouth and puts down his napkin. “Ah. No, I think I’ll skip out on lunch with my mother-in-law. Society business and whatnot. But do let me know how the food is at lunch. The House of the Downs is famous for their poultry. I wonder if it will be duck this time.” He winks.

“I’m not going,” I say, taking a piece of toast off his plate. I have to find Hazel. Maybe I can sneak down to the medical room when the Duchess is eating her lunch. Or I could look for the secret passage Lucien told me about.

Garnet gives me an incredulous stare. “Violet, if she’s going, you’re going. What do you think being a lady-in-waiting is? You follow her around wherever she goes.”

“But Annabelle never came with me anywhere when we left this palace.”

“You were a surrogate. Coral’s a royal.” He stands up, takes the arcana out of his pocket, and rubs it affectionately with his thumb. “They haven’t left yet, have they?”

I know he means Raven.

“No,” I say, only half paying attention. “Tomorrow night. Did she tell you about Ash?” I add angrily.

He chuckles. “Yeah.” Then he holds up his hands when he catches sight of the expression on my face. “Hey, I think he can do whatever he wants, and you know, he is sort of right.”

“About running off to the Bank like an idiot?” I say.

“About getting the companions to our side. It’s not like approaching factory workers or lower circle Regimentals. The companions are smart. They’re well trained and perfectly placed—imagine if we could have a whole slew of companions in addition to Society members waiting on the other side of the wall when it comes down? And they won’t listen to anyone but one of their own. Their lives revolve around secrets and lies. I’d be shocked if they even trusted one another all that much. So hey, this might actually be good for us.”

I wish everyone would stop defending Ash, like he’s done this great thing. They’re not in love with him. They don’t have to worry about their heart being smashed into a million pieces if he dies.

“Imogen!” Coral calls from the bedroom.

“Don’t keep her waiting,” he says.

I roll my eyes, then fix a pleasant smile on my face and head back to the bedroom to help Coral get dressed.

LUNCH AT THE PALACE OF THE DOWNS IS A TEDIOUS affair.

You’d think they didn’t even know there was a whole city out there. Not once do they mention the bombings, the fighting, the Black Key. Coral and her mother prattle on about the Duchess and Garnet and what it’s like being part of a Founding House. Coral is very excited about her first Auction. Lucien was right—it really is the event of the year, with every single married royal attending.

The only interesting part is when Hazel is mentioned, briefly.

“Did you know,” the Lady of the Downs says, “the Electress has not seen the surrogate carrying her future daughter-in-law since she became pregnant? Her own physician has not even been allowed to examine her. The Duchess has not permitted it thus far.”

“Oh, Mother, I can’t believe it. How could the arrangement have been made otherwise?” Coral asks.

“It would seem the Exetor has met with the girl, but the Electress has . . . yet to be invited. If someone could arrange a meeting, I’m sure it would reflect favorably. On every House involved.” She gives her daughter a significant look.

Coral nods eagerly. “I will speak to the Duchess.”

Coral is probably the last person in the palace of the Lake who could convince the Duchess to do something like that. Even Carnelian would have a better shot.

We arrive home just as Carnelian herself is walking down the front steps to a waiting motorcar, Rye on her arm. I haven’t seen her since that night in the dungeon when she helped set Ash free. She looks even more dour than usual. Rye is just as handsome as I remember, smooth dark skin and black curls. His eyes skim over me with no trace of recognition, his expression a mask of politeness, just the way Ash always used to look in this palace.

“Hello, Carnelian,” Coral says. “Where are you off to?”

“Some stupid party,” Carnelian grumbles. Her eyes land on me and I stiffen. “She finally got one for you, did she?”

“Garnet did,” Coral replies, beaming. “I named her Imogen.”