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“I am so sorry,” he says.

“I know, my love,” she murmurs. “I know you are.”

One last bit of kissing and then the Exetor says, “I should be getting back. The announcement needs to be made.”

“Yes, of course.” She chuckles. “It’s going to send this circle into a tizzy.”

There’s the sound of footsteps and then a door closes.

I slide down the wall and perch on the edge of a stair, my heart thrumming in my chest.

This whole thing has been one elaborate scheme to get the Exetor and the Duchess back together. At the cost of my sister’s life.

Twenty-Two

THE ANNOUNCEMENT THAT THE AUCTION WILL SERVE AS an engagement party as well throws the circle into gleeful chaos, as the Duchess and the Exetor predicted.

Invites come pouring in, for cocktail parties and luncheons and wine tastings. Everyone wants the Duchess’s attention. The loss of Coral and the Duke mixed with the ironclad promise of a union between the Royal Palace and the House of the Lake makes the Duchess the Jewel’s most wanted woman. And with only one day left until the Auction, the palace is buzzing with excitement.

I haven’t spoken to Lucien since the Exetor’s visit. But tonight is the annual pre-Auction dinner party for the Founding Houses at the Royal Palace, and fortunately, Carnelian was invited. Which means I’ll get to see him one last time before the city changes, for better or worse.

This development also means Carnelian will be attending the Auction, a huge relief since Coral’s death meant I would not have had a reason to attend myself.

The lower circles have been bubbling with discontent. Fires, lootings, more bombings . . . the Farm is in turmoil now, too. The factory workers in the Smoke have been striking. I haven’t spoken to Rye privately again. But I manage to get a moment alone with Garnet before I prepare Carnelian for the big dinner. He tells me Rye reached out to him. He’s very excited to have the companions on board.

“They’re really good with strategy,” he says, adjusting his bow tie. “And they already know how to fight. When you Paladin start causing all that chaos, we’re going to be ready. It’s like the royalty trained the perfect weapons for us!”

I quickly fill Garnet in about the conversation I overheard between his mother and the Exetor.

He whistles. “Well, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. She’s been in love with him for years. You didn’t hear what broke off the engagement, did you?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” I say. “Hazel is the target.”

“Yeah, at the Auction. Mother won’t have a chance. Everyone will be too busy fighting the Society.”

I hope he’s right.

THE ROYAL PALACE IS LIT UP LIKE A GIANT CANDLE, IN anticipation of the Auction tomorrow.

I caught a miraculous glimpse of Hazel for the first time since she escaped. Leashed and veiled, she was led to the motorcar by the Duchess, but it was enough to make my heart soar. I have time. She is alive and I’m going to make sure no one threatens her life again.

We arrive at the same time as the Countess of the Rose. Her hair is piled up on her head and dotted with real roses. The Count leans heavily on a cane as he walks up the front stairs beside her. Her lady-in-waiting is an older woman with a topknot as gray as the Countess’s own hair.

“You are the talk of the circle, Pearl,” the Countess says with admiration. I listen attentively but keep my eyes on my sister. She glances back at me, and I give her the tiniest shake of my head. She gives me a minuscule nod and keeps her eyes forward. “Just what you’ve always wanted.”

“That is where you are wrong, my dear Ametrine,” the Duchess replies, her gaze fixed on the front doors of the palace. “There has only ever been one thing I truly wanted. And it wasn’t winning the Jewel’s popularity contest.”

As soon as we step inside, footmen take cloaks and hats and lead the royals away to the dining room. I keep my eyes on Hazel’s retreating form for as long as I can. Just as they are about to turn a corner, she looks back at me one more time. Then she’s gone.

“Come along, Imogen,” Cora says. I turn and catch a glimpse of the Countess of the Stone making her way up the stairs with a short, frail man by her side. The Count, I assume. I wonder if Emile will be here tonight.

I follow Cora and the older lady-in-waiting (both of whom clearly know where they’re going) to a room with colorful couches in shades of peach, turquoise, emerald, and lilac. Several tables have been laid out with all sorts of food and glass pitchers of water. There is one lady-in-waiting already here—he must serve the Duchess of the Scales. She’s the only Founding House I haven’t seen yet.

“Olivier,” Cora says, coming over to greet him. “How lovely to see you. Have you met Imogen?”

Olivier is plump and cheery, with a carrot-orange topknot.

“You were hired for Coral, yes?” he says, shaking my hand. His are unnaturally soft.