“I will have the salmon to start,” Mildred said. “And my… companion will have the salad. You have my deepest apologies for her lateness. I am sure she will arrive shortly.”

  Where was Elsie? Mildred had gone to all the effort of arranging this meal for the two of them in the town’s finest restaurant, and her former friend didn’t even have the decency to show up on time. Why had she even bothered to arrange this?

  “Of course, my lady,” the waiter said, sketching a shallow bow before disappearing in the way that all good waiters could do.

  Because, Mildred admitted to herself, she was lonely. It wasn’t a problem she’d ever had before her life fell apart. There had always been other people around, friends or admirers or people working with her father. But people who wanted to talk to her.

  Now no-one did. Why would anyone want to spend time with the disgraced daughter of a treasonous lord? Why would anyone care about her? Elsie wouldn’t have been her first choice of companion, but she was the one who had agreed to meet. And she was friends with them. So persuading Elsie that she was the one in the right would be a first victory.

  It just wasn’t going to work unless Elsie actually came to this dinner.

  Mildred took a sip of wine and began discreetly people-watching. Staring at them directly would be dreadfully ill-mannered, but there was a large mirror on the wall nearest her, and if she pretended to be adjusting the way her dress sat on her shoulders or chasing away a stray lock of hair it was easy enough to observe without being seen to observe.

  Not that there was anything interesting to observe. The finest that a little town in the middle of nowhere had to offer, while tolerable, was hardly good enough to attract those who moved in the circles she did. But it was (in theory, at least) easy for Elsie to get to, and her lack of manners wouldn’t cause an embarrassment as it might in a truly high-class establishment.

  Still, the couple engaged in a discreet but vicious argument two tables across made passable entertainment to distract her. The argument seemed to be about the guest list of a party – he had invited people she disapproved of, and she was making that disapproval very clear by –

  “Mildred. Uh – hi – I’m sorry – “

  Oh, thank the stars, Elsie had decided to show her face after all. “Elsie!” Mildred replied with as much fake enthusiasm as she could summon. “Welcome! I’m so glad you could make it. Of course you mustn’t worry about being late, I quite understand. And I hope you’ll excuse my taking the liberty of ordering you a salad, the waiter was beginning to get rather impatient. But where are my manners? Do sit down.”

  Elsie blinked a few times and stumbled over to her seat. She didn’t look all that well, actually, Mildred noticed. Maybe she had a legitimate reason for being late. Well, she could play the part of sympathetic friend well enough. “Would you like some – oh, are you well? You look as if you’re ill.”

  “I am – quite well, thank you. I had – an attack of dizziness earlier, but – I’m fine now. I don’t want wine just yet, though, if that’s okay – “

  “Of course,” Mildred said. “Tell me, how have you been? I’ve missed you.”

  Elsie grimaced. “I – I’ve been good. Happy. You said – you wanted to explain things?”

  “…yes.” This was going to be delicate. Deviating too far from the truth would be seen as unbelievable, but Elsie was na?ve and idealistic and had never suffered in the way Mildred had. She wouldn’t understand that sometimes cruel, ruthless things had to be done.

  “Then what happened? Did you really…”

  Mildred had a guess as to what Elsie was about to say, but it was better if Elsie did in fact say it. Then Elsie was accusing her; then she was the one wronged. She took a slow, graceful sip of wine and waited.

  Elsie squirmed in her chair. “Did you – bait Tallulah into a Malaina episode?”

  “Of course not,” Mildred lied at once. “I would never do something like that. I – you know what I was dealing with at the time. I was barely thinking about my actions. I suppose my frustration spilled over that day in the library, and Tallulah had the misfortune to be the one there. I wish so much I had not said the things I did to her.”

  Elsie digested that for a moment. “But she said you locked the library door.”

  “I would never do something like that,” Mildred said with all the fake conviction she could summon.

  “But Tallulah wouldn’t lie about it.”

  “No,” agreed Mildred. “But she was in the grip of Malaina at the time. And you know what that can do to a person’s mind. That door was never locked, Elsie.”

  Elsie blinked a few times. Mildred could almost see her mind at war with itself. Tallulah was her friend; she could trust Tallulah; but Mildred had been her friend, and would she just sit here lying to her face? “And you – “

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  “She tried to attack me. I genuinely thought she was a danger to others. I won’t pretend to like it, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “Did you ever visit her?”

  Mildred blinked. That question was unexpected, and it posed a challenge to her story. If she’d really been wrestling with a difficult choice such as that, she would have tried to visit Tallulah, to judge for herself whether the other girl really was unstable. Tried, though. That was the crucial detail. “I would have, if Electra had permitted me,” she said smoothly.

  “Why didn’t she?”

  “She was worried about the distress it might cause Tallulah. At least, that’s what she told me.”

  “Meaning… her actual reason was something different?”

  Mildred shrugged elegantly. “Who knows, with that woman? She’s undoubtedly scheming something, and she hates me.”

  “Electra hates everyone.”

  She shook her head. “Me more than others. You haven’t been in class with me to see, but – she torments me every lesson. It’s awful.”

  “I’m – sorry to hear that,” Elsie said awkwardly.

  “It’s all right. Those things don’t matter as much once you’ve lost someone you love.”

  “And I’m sorry for your loss as well. I – “

  “Thank you,” said Mildred.

  “But – can we talk freely here?”

  “Yes,” Mildred said. She knew the owners of this restaurant were no fans of Lord Blackthorn, and had paid them extra besides for discretion.

  “Tallulah told me that – that you tried to use her as leverage. To save your father.”

  Well. That was interesting. Mildred hadn’t expected Tallulah to place that much trust in Elsie. A mistake on Tallulah’s part. “Oh, is that her story? She might not be lying, I suppose. Who knows if the Blackthorns told her the real tale?”

  “What – what is the real tale?” Elsie asked.

  “Not all that different. Except that in truth it was the other way round. The day of the trial – he sent me a note. Promising me that my father would die unless I withdrew the charges against Tallulah.”

  “So that’s why – “

  Mildred nodded. “It was almost a relief, to be honest, when I was so torn about going through with it anyway. And then – “ she didn’t need to fake the way her voice shook or the emotion that spilled into it – “and then that monster killed my father regardless.”

  “Oh, Mildred. I’m so sorry. I had no idea – well, of course I knew about your father – but for it to happen in that way is just ghastly.”

  Mildred let a little more genuine emotion slip out from behind her mask, her hand shaking as she took another sip of wine. Not too much, though. She was terrified that if she ever released the full extent of her grief and anger, she would shatter completely.

  “You should talk to Tallulah.”

  “I – what?” An inelegant response. She took a breath and composed herself. “Forgive me. I misspoke. You mean I should tell her what I just told you?”

  “Yes. I’m sure she’d understand – and then we could all be friends again.”

  Na?ve. Mildred shook her head. “She’s far too close to the Blackthorns. Edward wouldn’t let her be my friend, even if she believed me.” And Tallulah likely wouldn’t believe her, either. Not when that would be asking her to believe she was delusional.

  “Edward doesn’t get to say who Tallulah should be friends with.”

  Mildred raised her eyebrows, not bothering to express her scepticism in words.

  “I mean, sure, he’s a bit… intense sometimes. But that doesn’t mean – “

  “You haven’t seen him when he feels threatened.”

  “I have, actually,” Elsie replied, an edge to her voice.

  “Oh?” That was news to Mildred, and news she was very interested in hearing.

  “A group of us went to the market. There was a fortune-teller. I went into her tent to have my fortune told. When I came out again… Edward was panicking. I found out later it was a Malaina episode, because he was scared that something bad would happen to me in that tent.”

  Mildred filed away that information to think through later. “What did he do?”

  “Robin told me it got pretty bad. He was threatening to destroy the tent if I didn’t come out, and Tallulah had to try and stop him. Once I appeared he just dragged her away.”

  “Doesn’t that prove my point, though?” Mildred asked. “Oh, he can do a good enough impression of someone who’s just bookish and anti-social but a decent enough person once you get to know him. But when he’s under pressure?”

  “You’re talking like someone who’s seen him under pressure yourself.”

  “I have,” Mildred replied. Before they’d started at the Academy, she’d wanted to befriend him, possibly even be more than friends. She’d convinced herself it would be the answer to all her family’s problems. Except she’d misjudged him badly. Maybe that was the mistake that had led to this entire disaster.

  Maybe if she’d been the one Edward cared about, instead of Tallulah, she could have persuaded Lord Blackthorn to spare her father.

  “What happened?”

  “I – I don’t want to talk about it.” Which was completely true, if not for the reasons Elsie probably thought.

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “But suffice it to say, I’ve seen what Edward can do when he’s pushed far enough. Sometimes I think he’s not much better than his father. Let’s talk about something more happy, then. What was your fortune?”

  Elsie blinked. “I – what?”

  “You said you visited a fortune-teller. Are you destined to meet a tall handsome stranger, then?”

  “I – no. I shouldn’t have gone. It was a waste of good silver.”

  Elsie was not a particularly accomplished liar. The fortune-teller had said something to Elsie that she didn’t want to tell Mildred. What was it, then? She hadn’t thought Elsie the type to have deep secrets, but perhaps she’d been wrong.

  “Those things often are,” she agreed calmly. Best not to make Elsie think she was suspicious, not when she’d made so much progress towards repairing their friendship. “What real oracle would sell their insights for coin?”

  Was she imagining it, or did Elsie flinch at that? “One who needed the coin, I suppose,” she said. “And didn’t want to be known as a true oracle.”

  “Perhaps. But infinitely more likely it’s just a fraud.”

  “I suppose,” said Elsie, and then “How is your cousin?”

  A transparent attempt to change the subject, but Mildred decided to allow it. It would be nice to be able to be a little more natural, a little more like the girl she’d once been. “He’s well,” she said. “Engaged to be married, in fact.”

  “Oh?” said Elsie, looking interested. “Who to?”

  She’d known Elsie’s interest in gossip wouldn’t let her down. “The daughter of Albert Greenwood – you know Greenwood and Sons?” She went on without waiting for confirmation. “There’s been a whole family drama about it – because she’s not nobility. Not a proper match, supposedly. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, of course, especially when they’re madly in love, but…”