I almost wished I had the backing of Tom’s crew again so that I could go see Warren Doyle in jail and . . . what? I wasn’t actually sure what I’d do. Even though he was locked away, I heard that he was well treated and even allowed fine food and clothing from his father. It incensed me to think of him enjoying those luxuries while Cedric healed from his beating. And there was Tamsin, of course. Warren knew more than he’d revealed, and I wanted to shake the answers out of him. I wanted him to pay for the way he’d made my friends suffer, but the law would have to decide that, not me..

   To my surprise, a few social events crept into my schedule. Jasper and Charles were making a last, desperate effort to throw me in the path of eligible men, but it was to no avail. I didn’t even have to try to dissuade any would-be suitors. My mind was full of Grant, and I hardly spoke to anyone.

   A little less than a week after he’d left, I found myself at a party honoring some visiting delegates from Williamston. There’d been no further communication between Lonzo and me, and I made an attempt to be charming tonight, in the hopes of learning more about the territories he worked in. But partway through the event, Aiana slipped into the elegant drawing room. She wasn’t assigned here tonight, and I stopped mid-sentence in a conversation I’d been having. Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd, and she hurried over to where Charles chatted with a few merchants. She pulled him to the side and said something in his ear. He looked across the room and, after spotting me, gave Aiana a nod.

   She cut through the guests—who were more than a little startled to see a casually dressed Balanquan among them—and took my arm. “We have to go.”

   Her face held a rare urgency, and all I could think was that something had happened to Grant. “Why? What’s the matter?”

   “Adelaide is back.”

CHAPTER 31

   CEDRIC HAD GONE STRAIGHT TO THE JAIL UPON arriving in the city. Jasper had refused to let Adelaide come back to Wisteria Hollow, so Aiana had offered up her home. She had another of those second-floor lofts, one as large as Silas’s. When we walked in and I saw Adelaide, I rushed across the room and dropped the secondhand clothes we’d acquired for her. Aiana retreated to give us privacy, and all I could do at first was take in the sight of Adelaide, alive and well. Her hair was damp, and she wore a robe. Tears glittered in her eyes.

   “Mira—how did this—Tamsin—”

   I hugged her closer. Aiana had warned me that Adelaide had only learned about Tamsin today. My letter had never reached her. “I don’t know. I couldn’t believe it when I heard.”

   I recounted what I knew—what was publicly known—and how strange the circumstances were. I withheld any speculation about Warren since Silas and Grant didn’t have their hard proof yet.

   “I can’t lose her again,” Adelaide said.

   “I know. I feel the same way.” I had a lump in my throat and had to fight to stay in control. Tamsin would have to wait. Adelaide was the one who needed me right now, and I tried to give her a brave smile. “But you have to put that grief aside for now. We’ll cry for her later—a lot.”

   Adelaide told me her backstory in Hadisen, explaining how Warren and his men had tried to kill Cedric and make it look like an accident. Warren denied it, and the words of a new governor earned more respect than those of a suspected heretic—even one involved with a noblewoman of considerable standing. Studying her as she spoke, I felt increasingly foolish for not having suspected her secret sooner. There was something powerful in the way she behaved and talked, even when she played a scattered student or looked as disheveled as she did now.

   A knock interrupted a conversation about Jasper. In a flash, Aiana was at the door. Alert and dangerous, she placed one hand on the knob and held a knife as long as her forearm in her other. She reminded me of Grant, the night she’d discovered our affair.

   “Who’s there?” Aiana yelled.

   “Walter Higgins,” came the muffled response. “I’m looking for Adelaide Bailey—Cedric Thorn’s partner.”

   “That’s Cedric’s agent!” exclaimed Adelaide. “Let him in.”

   A svelte young man entered, his eyes scrutinizing every detail around him. I’d had no idea Cedric had an agent of any kind. Adelaide explained to us how Cedric had been trying to buy his stake to Westhaven Colony by selling a forged Myrikosi painting. After a lot of searching, Walter had finally found a buyer for him—one who wanted authentication from anyone who might have knowledge about Myrikosi art. That wasn’t an easy request around here.

   “Sirminicans look a lot like Myrikosi,” Walter told Adelaide, giving me a quick glance.

   Adelaide immediately latched on to the idea. “You can do a Myrikosi accent. I used to hear you do it back at Blue Spring. All you have to do is meet this guy and tell him the painting he’s interested in is an authentic piece from one of Myrikos’s greatest masters.”

   It turned out “this guy” lived an hour north of the city, but I couldn’t refuse her. If Cedric had a stake in Westhaven, Denham would have to grant him immunity for his religion. With the trial beginning in the morning, the odds of getting everything together in time seemed slim. But, as Aiana bluntly pointed out to Adelaide: “You need to accept that there’s a chance Cedric may not get out of this. And if he doesn’t, you’re going to need your own resources to escape.”

   I later left Adelaide with assurances that everything would be okay, just as I had the night she and Cedric had been found out. I hoped my words would end up being true now—because I really wasn’t sure they had back then.

   Everyone was up early the next morning to see the trial that would determine Warren’s and Cedric’s fates. Aiana had to help chaperone girls at the courthouse, and our hope was that no one would notice my temporary absence amidst all the drama and activity. I put on a deep burgundy riding dress that was far too elegant for a day in court, but no one paid any attention to it.