“All the time, but were you thinking about something specific?” Geneve laughed and raised an eye at the knives strapped to my leg. “Like knife training, you mean?”
“No, you know that’s just because of Papá.” A bitter laugh escaped. “He always says a girl can never be too prepared.” And yet I’d still been completely caught off guard by his news. Once I finished here, I’d go back and wait for his meeting to be over so we could finish talking. It was a conversation we couldn’t avoid any longer and there was much that needed to be said.
“I mean did Mamá ever lose track of herself or stare off into the distance?”
Geneve’s hands slowed, and her expression grew nostalgic. “Now that you mention it, she did.” She sighed. “She was quite the daydreamer.”
“I see.” That was enough to confirm Papá’s story so far, but it didn’t seem like Geneve knew anything more.
Without another word, Geneve pulled the dress off the wall and held it open for me to step into. The metal slid across my skin like satin and Geneve quickly helped sort it all out, her nimble fingers making quick work of the corset and ties.
To give my mind a break, I did my best to shove thoughts of Hiram and Desmarc, Papá and Mamá, and everything else aside and only focus on the dress Geneve was tying up.
“Oh my.” She gasped and stepped back. “It gets better every time you try it on.”
I turned so I could see myself in the large mirror with a carved frame standing in the corner. Despite everything else going on, I smiled. Geneve had truly outdone herself. Even my engagement necklace, with its miniature mechanical copy of the city, perfectly complemented the outfit.
The dress combined ethereal layers of lace and gauze, cascading ruffles, and shimmering metallic and glass accents. The flowing skirt and the way it glimmered in the light made me feel like a mechanical fairy creature while the pieces of glass sewn into the design caught and reflected the light.
“I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure this was going to work, but somehow we pulled it off.” She tugged at the sheer sleeves across my shoulders, pulling them this way and that until they sat just right. “Now I’m sure your soon-to-be husband won’t be able to wait to pull it off,” she added with a wicked grin.
“Geneve!” I flushed and looked away from her knowing smirk while my thoughts went all-too-unwillingly to Hiram. We hadn’t kissed, but the thought of him doing something like that— No, wait. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of him. I was supposed to be thinking of Desmarc.
Flustered, I ran a hand down the tiny loops of metal covering my stomach. They were smooth and thankfully cold against my skin. Maybe it would cool my heated cheeks. Around my waist, the material switched to lace and feathers to create a full, flowing skirt.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“I’m just nervous,” I said.
“You know I don’t give two sprockets about your father’s political ambitions. You need to marry for love. Gwen would’ve wanted that for you.” She put her hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “Are you in love with Desmarc?”
“I was. Well, I am. Or, I could be.” I just needed to give my feelings for Hiram time to fade.
Besides, even if I didn’t care for Desmarc as much as I’d thought, he would still treat me well. There was no doubt of that based on how he’d acted over the last half a year. And maybe once we were married, he’d open up to me, as I was planning on opening up to him, ideally before we married. Plus, I was sure I could convince him to help the Lower Chimes if we talked about it.
“That might be difficult if you’re already in love with someone else.” Clearly, Geneve had been reading the papers too.
I flushed. “I’m not in love with him. Maybe a crush, but not love.” She opened her mouth, but I steamrolled over whatever she was about to say. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t seen Hiram in days, and I can already tell my feelings are fading.” I had only thought about him fifteen times yesterday instead of twenty. That was an improvement, right?
“Hiram, huh?” She gave me a knowing look.
“I meant Detective Atwood.” I spun around so she couldn’t see my flushed cheeks. “Let’s focus on the dress.”
“All right, but I’m here if you need to talk.” She fiddled with some of the tiny cogs worked into the top of my dress, then straightened the skirt before stepping back and whistling. “I’m not sure if you’re the genius or if I am, but either way, I don’t think we need to change another thing about this dress. It fits you perfectly.”
“I’m glad.” I smiled at her, grateful she’d changed the subject, even though nerves churned in my stomach at the thought of marrying Desmarc when I still cared for Hiram. But I’d already told myself it was the right choice. It was too late to back out on him now. As long as my feelings for Hiram really were just a crush, I could overcome them.
For a moment, I imagined what it would’ve been like to have Mamá here gushing about my wedding dress and talking about her little girl getting married. What words of advice would she have? Would she have told me about her time working with the Iron Watch? I reached for the ring on my left hand and rubbed at it absently through the glove.
Maybe there was still a way to get answers about Mamá without having to talk to Papá or Hiram—after all, he wasn’t the only person I knew at the Iron Watch. I could ask Liam to look into cases Mamá might’ve worked on so I could confirm whatever Papá told me. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to help, but it was worth asking.
Geneve silently helped me change back into my original outfit. “Since the dress is complete, do you want to take it home with you?”
“Actually, would you mind sending it to my house? I have another stop today, and I don’t want to carry it around.”
“Of course, dearest.”
Minutes later I was out the door and heading toward the Eighth Chime. I hailed a steamcab and told them my destination, then sat back and tried to calm my racing pulse by reminding myself that this was a business call, and I was going to see Liam, not Hiram.
Once we arrived, I paid the driver and climbed down. My boots tapped softly against the cobblestones, mirroring my pounding heart. The subtle hiss of steam vents dotting the path sounded as an undercurrent to the bustling Chime. I’d ask Liam for this favor, then I’d go straight back to talk to Papá. No delays and no distractions.
I hurried up the front steps and walked inside without giving myself time to let my nerves overtake me. A few heads turned my way, though the room was fairly empty. No sign of a blond head of hair. Thank the aether.
Unlike my previous visits, I wasn’t in disguise. I was Kyra Annandale, and, based on the way a few of the officers’ eyes widened, they realized it.
Liam stood from his desk in the corner and hurried over.
“Ms. Annandale, what can we do for you?”
“Please, Liam. You can still call me K.” I smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. “We need to talk.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “How did you find out? We haven’t released a statement to the press yet.”
“Released a statement about what?”
“So you don’t know?” His brow furrowed. “I thought that’s what you came to talk about.”
“I came to ask you for a favor.” A trickle of dread slid down my spine. Had something happened to Hiram? “Know about what?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.” Liam took a step back.
I caught his hand. “It’s all right. You can tell me. If not, I’ll just find Hiram and have him tell me.”
Liam hesitated, then he took a step closer and lowered his voice again. “There’s been another murder,” he said. “Meridian Lambkins is dead.”