“Look at your hands,” exclaimed Tamsin’s mother. “You’ll never be able to do a load of clothes again.”

Tamsin beamed. The hands she considered inferior beside mine were smooth and delicate compared to her mother’s, which were hard and rough from a lifetime of scalding water and scrubbing.

“I don’t intend to,” Tamsin replied. “And once I’m married to the richest man in Adoria, you won’t have to either.”

Her father let out a bellowing laugh, one that made everyone else at our blanket smile too. “My dreamer. Just get yourself over there first.”

“She’s not wrong,” Jasper said, sidling up to us. I’d noticed him making the rounds to other families too. He crouched down. “Tamsin’s known around here for her ambition—for her determination to accept no less than perfection. I was just talking to our music teacher the other day, and she couldn’t stop raving about Tamsin’s remarkable progress on the piano.”

Her mother turned to her in astonishment. “You can play the piano?”

It was perhaps the most tangible amazing thing Jasper could have picked. In the circles Tamsin had come from, they never even saw pianos. Playing one was like speaking a foreign language.

She flushed with pleasure. “I’m still learning—but I can do some basics. If my husband has a piano, I can keep practicing.”

Jasper winked at her. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure you can talk him into one.”

He turned to me, and I wondered what trivia he’d pull out. I sincerely doubted he’d spoken to our music instructor. I was guessing he’d gotten a crash course on each of our strong areas this morning from Mistress Masterson. In his previous visits, Jasper had simply done cursory checks of us and then talked business with her. The most personal comment I’d ever heard him give a girl was to tell Caroline to reduce the number of breakfast pastries she ate each morning.

“Adelaide here carries herself with such poise and elegance, it’s like she’s done this her whole life,” he said. I wasn’t surprised he’d gone with something external. I was purposely hit or miss with my studies. “And with her beauty, we know we’ll have men beating down our door over there.”

Rhonda nodded as she drank from another cup of rum punch, which I had no idea how she’d managed to get a hold of. “That’s how it’s always been with our lovely girl. Ever since she was a little one. Boys lining up in the streets. Boys at our door. Boys in our house. If Adelaide was around, you could be sure there was a boy with her.”

Uncomfortable silence fell, and I attempted a light laugh that sounded more like I was choking. Jasper mercifully turned toward Mira. Tamsin leaned over Merry and whispered to me, “I can see why you’ve never mentioned her.”

“And Mira . . .” Jasper was still smiling, but it was hard to gauge his true feelings. “Well, Mira continues to surprise us all. I’m sure she will in Adoria too.”

“You are Mister Thorn’s father?” asked Pablo. “Mister Cedric Thorn? I thought he might be here.”

Mira might get a hard time about her accent, but it was nothing compared to his. It took me several moments to parse his words, and I could see Jasper doing the same.

“He’s back in Osfro, finishing up his finals.” Jasper frowned. “How do you know my son?”

Pablo hesitated. “I met him when he came to get Mirabel. He seems like a good man.”

I expected some cutting remark from Jasper, but he never broke character. “He is. And I’m sure you never would have let Mira go with anyone less. If you’ll excuse me now, I must speak with the others.”

He straightened up and moved on to the next group. I recalled his words to Mistress Masterson, about this all being a show to ensure we would go to Adoria with our family’s blessings. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something underhanded going on.

Fernanda scoffed when he was gone. “We cannot let Mirabel do or not do anything. She makes her own way.”

I turned back to them and tried to shake off my worries. “You knew each other back in Sirminica?”

“While the factions were fighting each other, most ordinary people just wanted to stay out of the way. And when that wasn’t possible, people began to flee,” explained Mira. She gestured to Pablo and Fernanda. “We fell in with the same group of refugees trying to make it to the border. The roads weren’t safe—they still probably aren’t. Sometimes there was safety in numbers. Sometimes. Even in a group, a lone girl wasn’t always safe. I tried to protect others. I tried.”

Mira’s expression darkened, and Fernanda squeezed her hand. “Mira did protect others. War brings out the monsters among humanity, and there’s only so much anyone can do to—” Her eyes fell on the red-haired children, who were hanging on every word. “Well. As I said, Mira did plenty of protecting.”

Rhonda set her empty cup down. “You know, I have no problem with Sirminicans. I say, Osfrid is open to all. Anyone who wants to come and find a new life here is welcome to it. I have great respect for all peoples. And some of my dearest friends are Sirminican, you know. There’s a gentlemen who runs a crepe shop over by the Overland fountain. He’s my friend—more than a friend, if you catch my meaning. He makes some of the best crepes in the city. And he makes me—”

“I know the shop you’re talking about,” said Tamsin’s mother. “And he’s not Sirminican. He’s from Lorandy.”

“He most certainly isn’t. I couldn’t understand a word he said. And his name ends in an o, just like the rest of you.” Rhonda accompanied that last part with a nod to Mira and her friends.

“His name’s Jean Devereaux,” Tamsin’s mother insisted. “I’ve washed his laundry. He speaks Lorandian.”

“And crepes are from Lorandy,” I added.

Rhonda shot me an affronted look. “You doubt me now, too? So much for blood being thicker than water. Well, it doesn’t matter. Sirminican, Lorandian. They all sound alike, and really, the two of us didn’t do much speaking anyway, if you know what I mean.”

I felt guilty when the family picnic ended a couple of hours later, mainly because I was so happy about it. The rest of my housemates were not, and Tamsin in particular took it hard. Everyone was making their goodbyes in the front hall as the carriages prepared to take the visitors back to the city. I saw Tamsin hand a huge bundle of paper to her mother, and I realized it was the culmination of those letters she was always writing. I’d noted she did it daily, but seeing the full sum of them was astonishing.

It was her expression that threw me, though. Where it had been so full of open joy earlier, she now looked devastated. I had never seen such emotions on her face. Such vulnerability. She gave her parents fierce hugs goodbye, and when she went to lift Merry, Tamsin looked as though she might start crying. I had to avert my eyes. It felt wrong to stare during that kind of moment.

Rhonda stood beside me. I’d lost track of how many cups of punch she’d consumed. “Well,” she said, putting an arm over my shoulders, “I hope you’ll spare some time to come visit your old aunt Sally the next time you’re in the capital. I know you’ll be a grand lady and all by then, but don’t you forget where you came from, girl. You hear me?”