Four days after the murder, I finally had a break from the endless social calls with well-born women wanting to congratulate me on my engagement and the meetings with the wedding planner. They were used to working in short time frames, since custom dictated that most engagement periods last a month, but that demanding schedule left little time for the rest of my duties or my sewing projects with Geneve. The copper lining was that it also gave me less time to worry about that forged invitation I’d found and what it meant, especially since I hadn’t had a chance to sneak away to tell Detective Atwood.
Once I had some time to myself, I planned the meals for this week. Papá was throwing more and more dinner parties as he prepared for the major upcoming debate that would heavily influence his chance of becoming the new Prime Meridian. After that, I dealt with the usual correspondences, went over the month’s ledger to allocate the correct amounts to any server bots who had errands to run, and checked the server bot maintenance. One had broken last week and had to be sent in for repairs. To make up for its loss, I had to reprogram Cogsley to cover extra duties around the house. I didn’t use to know how to reprogram them, but after I’d discovered a bug in Cogsley’s personality that made her far more outspoken than any normal bot, I hadn’t wanted to risk sending her in for repairs in case they “fixed” her personality too. She was the closest thing I had to a friend at home, especially since Papá had dismissed all the workers years ago.
Half an hour later, I found myself glaring at the uninspired design for my wedding gown in my sketchbook. Thankfully, Cogsley had replaced it since I’d used up my old one. I crumpled up my latest drawing, realizing I’d started to incorporate pieces from the murder victim’s clothes. The woman’s sightless eyes and her gasp haunted my dreams each night. I hadn’t heard from Detective Atwood again, nor had I had a chance to inform him of my discovery, but maybe it was for the best. I’d already risked enough just by going to the Iron Watch and seeing the Blue Capes. Surely they would track down the connection to my engagement party even without my help considering the victim’s bracelet had been found outside my party. For now, I needed to focus on my wedding in three and a half weeks.
Even though I was looking forward to marrying Desmarc, inspiration for my wedding dress design eluded me. I crumpled up my latest sketch and tossed down my charcoal before collecting a knife and polish from underneath my four-poster bed. Plunking down in the leather armchair I’d moved by the window for better lighting, I rubbed polish into the knife’s already gleaming surface. The familiar motions helped calm my racing thoughts.
Your knives will treat you as well as you treat them. Papá’s voice came back to me from our many hours of lessons together, but I pushed it away and found my gaze drawn to the map on my wall. Not even my knives could keep my thoughts from trailing back to the case.
If you compared the city to a clock, the Steele River ran between the First and Twelfth Chime until it branched at the Epoch Clock in the center, effectively splitting Chronovale into the three sections: the Lower Chimes from one to four o’clock, the Middle Chimes from five to eight o’clock, and the Upper Chimes from nine to twelve o’clock.
My gaze settled on the First Chime, where most of the city’s factories ran along the Steele, or the Sootworks as Detective Atwood had called it. I still had no idea what had brought the killer from the First Chime across the river to my party in the Eleventh Chime. Could Papá be the killer’s next intended victim? I sucked in a breath and pushed the thought away. I was letting my imagination run wild. There was no real reason to assume the killer would even strike again or that it had anything to do with my family. It could have simply been a convenient place to meet. Doing my best to shove thoughts of the murder from my mind, I focused on the Twelfth Chime, where the religious and academic buildings were, including the university. I hadn’t had a chance to sneak out since the night of the engagement party, so I still needed to arrange a meeting with Professor Sophronia. Even though I wasn’t sure what I wanted to study, just being a student there would help me feel closer to Mamá. Sort of like how I’d felt the other night when I’d helped Detective Atwood.
The whirring sound of an engine came from the hall, followed by a knock on the door. Cogsley rolled into the room and sighed. “You’ve made a mess again.”
I glanced around at the discarded designs, peppering of charcoal dust, and my unmade bed. “That’s because I didn’t want you to run out of things to do and get bored.”
“That would not be possible with you around.”
Her words made me grin, even though they weren’t affectionate or teasing, just true. Cogsley didn’t know how to banter, but her blunt way of speaking was refreshing. “Thanks for replacing my sketchbook, by the way.”
“That was not me,” she said as she picked up a small trashcan in the corner of the room.
“It wasn’t?”
“Your father was the one who did that.” She collected the pieces of paper scattered around the floor.
I blinked, trying to process the news.
“Meridian Kingsford is here to see you,” she said.
Butterflies took off in my stomach. He was early. I hadn’t seen him since the party, though he had sent a note to check on me the next morning.
“Thank you. Will you bring tea for us?” I pushed away thoughts of the mystery that was Papá and slipped my knives into the sheathes around my legs. After straightening my skirt, I headed into the hall. The thick, red carpet lining the hall softened my footsteps, and wide windows flooded the hall with natural light and glinted off the family portrait hanging at the top of the stairs. It was painted sixteen years ago, just before Mamá passed.
I exhaled sharply and hurried down the steps—well, not hurried. My old governess insisted ladies never hurried, but I definitely walked with haste.
“I wanted to check on Kyra in person since she didn’t seem well the night of the party,” Desmarc’s smooth baritone reached me through the cracked door. “I would’ve come sooner, but business kept me otherwise engaged.”
“I can already tell what a fine addition to the family you’re going to make,” Papá’s said.
I knocked on the door to announce my presence, then stepped inside.
“Kyra, how are you?” Desmarc asked as he and Papá stood at my entrance. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” I gave them both a small curtsy.
“I have something for you.” Desmarc rose to his feet and stopped in front of me, giving me a chance to admire his top hat, his crisp, white shirt and the way the brass buttons on his jacket gleamed. His outfits didn’t look like Geneve’s handiwork, but the quality was just as good.
“You do?”
“Can I see your hand?”
I held it palm up, and he turned it over and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of my gloved hand.
“Oh,” I said somewhat breathlessly, before my gaze darted to Papá.
“That was just because I wanted to.” He reached into the pocket of his black waistcoat, then turned my hand over and placed my silk glove in it. “But this is what I wanted to give you.”
“Oh, thank you.” I smiled at his thoughtful gesture. I hadn’t expected to see this glove again after leaving it at the fountain.
Papá cleared his throat. “I hadn’t realized you’d lost your glove.” His voice held a hint of warning.
I bit my lip and tucked the glove behind my back. “I went outside for some fresh air during the party and it came off when I fell in the fountain.”
“I take it this was before you went home early.”
I winced. So Papá had guessed I’d Slipped. I was sure to get an earful once Desmarc left. “Yes.”
Desmarc took my hand and smiled. “I’m glad you seem to be feeling better.”
The door opened and Cogsley wheeled in with a tray of tea. Her engine gave a little hiss as she worked to cross the thick carpet.
“Allow me.” I pulled my hand free and poured a cup for Papá, Desmarc, and myself before settling into my seat.
“The renewal will be on us in a fortnight,” Papá said, his expression growing stiff like it always did when he talked about the upcoming elections.