Near midnight, I sank onto a low bench and slipped off my shoes, stretching my cramped toes. After dinner—a communal and somewhat mournful affair, where the finest families of Nyx ate and drank alongside the commoners—Cass had asked me to dance again. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from looking for Dorian, but he was several tables across from us, apparently deep in conversation with Lady Xia and the red-cheeked man, completely ignorant of my existence. Hoping Cass hadn’t noticed my hesitation, I’d quickly put my gloved hand in his.

We’d danced every dance, with only the short breaks taken by the musicians. By midnight, the majority of the townspeople had gone home, and mostly younger folk remained. My parents had pleaded fatigue early in the evening, apparently forgetting their earlier pledge to introduce me to their neighbors. But to my surprise, Brinsley had offered to take me home when he was ready to leave.

My brother had been ensconced with his friends since the beginning of the festival. They looked to be a half-starved lot, as thin as he was and as intent on the vials they were consuming with abandon on the far side of the expanse. Despite what Brinsley had said, none of them appeared to have any interest in dancing.

When I’d asked Cass about them, he’d frowned. “It’s a clever trick,” he said as he spun me in a circle and pulled me close again. “There are actually two types of vials. The silver-lidded ones are forgetfulness potions. You have to drink them first.”

“To temporarily forget?”

“Aye. Then the corked ones are normal memory potions. If you drink them in that order, they say the memories become more potent and more real. Almost as if you’re experiencing them for the first time.”

Understanding dawned. “So they’re forgetting in order to remember?”

“That’s not a bad way of putting it.”

A pause stretched between us, and I looked over at Brinsley’s friends. They resembled scarecrows, with clothes that looked as if they’d been made for other people, and faces fitted directly over bone with little flesh to soften the hard outlines beneath.

And no wonder. After spending so much time in a world of their own making, the true world probably seemed less potent. Who could content themselves with the authentic Caldera after being immersed so frequently in the dream version of it?

“‘They say’?” I repeated Cass’s earlier words.

“Aye, they. I’ve never tried it.” He shot me a grin. “I considered it, of course. But like I told you before, I prefer things the old-fashioned way.” Then he left to fetch us drinks.

I reflected on his words as I rubbed the aching soles of my feet. Brinsley showed no signs of heading home any time soon. Even the lady wolf had abandoned me for better company, remaining at Dorian’s side all evening.

She wasn’t the only one who missed him.

“You look tired.”

I glanced up as the man who’d been occupying my thoughts settled himself on the bench beside me, Jewel leaping up next to him. In the torchlight, the iridescence in his hair was striking. Had Cass been correct that my hair had looked the same in moonlight?

“I am tired. Did you dance?” I said it offhandedly, as if I hadn’t been tracking his every movement all night.

“Nay.” Fatigue seemed to weigh on Dorian’s shoulders. “Lord Viorel wanted to discuss something at great length.”

That must have been the flush-faced man, who was now returning to Nyx with an assortment of nobles and guards. Since most members of the upper classes had gone, only a few soldiers remained.

“It couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Apparently not.” He was looking at me again, the same way he had earlier. “I wanted to ask you to dance, but I can see that you’re exhausted.”

Was it an excuse, or was he genuinely concerned for my welfare? Regardless of his motivations, fresh energy swept through my limbs. “Nay, I’m not too—”

“Thane.” Cass handed me a glass and stood facing us. “It’s been a while.” His tone was even cooler than usual.

“I hope the Winters are treating you kindly,” Dorian remarked.

“They are.”

“I noticed you get on rather well with Sephone’s brother.”

“Aye,” was the short reply before Cass looked at me. “Seph, have you seen the glass houses close up yet?”

I shook my head, and he offered his arm. “They’re quite beautiful.”

When I hesitated, Dorian spoke. “It’s all right, Sephone. I’ll claim that dance another time.” His voice was smooth and even. I must have imagined the regret in it before.

My stomach churned, and I tried to mask my disappointment. I put down my glass and took hold of Cass’s arm. A second time, he led me away from Dorian, and it required everything I had in me not to look back.

We’d gone a fair distance when I realized I’d left behind my shawl . . . it was still sitting on the bench with Dorian and Jewel. The temperature had dropped significantly, and I shivered. Cass let go of my arm and pulled me closer.

“You’re sad as well as cold. Why?”

“Nay, I’m fine.”

“I’m not daft,” he said, making me think of Dorian. Cass tugged off his glove and stuffed it into the pocket of his coat. I tried not to tremble as he gently took my arm again. Blue light poured from his palm, sinking effortlessly beneath my skin, and suddenly I felt it—the familiar weightlessness, like he had tossed me into the air, and gravity hadn’t realized I was still under its jurisdiction. Transfixed, I watched the light return to Cass’s palms as crimson red. He smiled when he saw me watching him.

“There. Now you will be happy.”

“The absence of sorrow is not the same as happiness, but thank you, Cass.” I could see the faint line between his eyebrows—the line that might have been a grimace, if he were less proud. The true cost of sharing my sorrow.

“You’re welcome.” Not bothering to put on his glove again, he steered us toward the glittering, domed structures.

“Why would the Letheans build glass houses?” I asked as he led me inside one of the largest. The air was moist and warm, though it didn’t stop my shivering. I looked around at the glass walls, lined with plants of every size and variety. Rows of tiny lanterns had been strung between several of the tallest ones, and I thought of Iona and Lord Faro’s party.

“The winters are harsh here,” Cass replied. “Apart from the snow blossoms, very little can survive the cold.” He pointed to the ceiling. “Look up, Seph.”

Through the glass roof, I saw a night sky studded with tiny, twinkling gems and a full moon. When I looked down again, he was staring at me, just as he had on the rooftop in Ceto.

“Beautiful,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t referring to the sky.

“I should be getting back.” I tried to gently extricate myself from him.

But he slid his arms around my waist. “Seph, I said there will never be secrets between us, and I meant it.”

“I’m grateful for that.” Green ribbons swirled in the air before me. His face was mere inches from mine. I had to leave, but . . . those eyes. The color of a sea grotto suspended in rays of rich golden light. And my chest was still light from what he’d done for me. Regardless of what I felt for Dorian, it was impossible to deny that Cass had a certain magnetism about him.

“A while back, you asked me what I want before I die, Seph. Well, this is what I want.”

I realized what he was about to do a second before his mouth met mine. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. I rested my hands against his chest as his went around my back.

But the pleasurable sensations only lasted a moment before my gift kicked in. This close, it was impossible not to be thrown headlong into Cass’s mind. It might have been a welcome experience except for the memories gathered there, waiting to spring on an unsuspecting intruder. I flinched, knowing what I would see a second before I saw it. Dozens of faces, dozens of memories of Cass kissing other women as he kissed me now. I opened my eyes and tore myself from his grasp.

“Seph—”

“I don’t want to know all your secrets, Cass,” I said breathlessly, stepping back. “Please.”

He looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Seph. I guess I was emboldened by the thane’s gift. I . . . I realize what you must have seen.”

“I really have to get back.” I turned to leave.

“Not before you hear me out. Please.”

Reluctantly, I faced him again.

“I know what you must be thinking. I’ve flirted with you relentlessly since the very beginning of our acquaintance . . . I imagine you’re thinking that you’re just another feather in my cap. Another conquest.”

He swallowed. “That’s the furthest thing from the truth. I love you, Seph.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Do you say that to every woman you kiss?”

“If I could reverse my gift so that it would prove I’m speaking the truth, I’d do so in a heartbeat. But since I can’t do that, I want you to read my mind. Or whatever it is that you do.”

“That isn’t necessary, Cass.”

“Please.” He extended his ungloved hand to me, palm up. “Just look.”

Slowly, I slipped off my own glove and touched his palm. The black tendrils appeared at once, sinking beneath his skin. I closed my eyes, and I was inside his mind.

The faces of the other women were still there, but this time, I ignored them, and they burst like bubbles before floating away. Searching for Cass’s memories of me, I was surprised when I came across them almost immediately.

In Dorian’s mind, the image of Lida Ashwood had been limned with gold, but in Cass’s mind, his mental image of me shone with a silvery glow, almost exactly like moonlight. When I saw his memory of me the night the carriage-bridge had fallen, when I’d stood on the hill beneath the unveiled moon, I started. Was my hair truly that iridescent? Now, at least, I knew why he and the others had stared.

“So?” he said when I opened my eyes and released his hand. “Are you convinced?”

I nodded, feeling a twinge in my chest. The lightness from before had vanished. “Was that why you stayed away all this time?”

“Aye. I didn’t want you to happen upon the truth by accident. I hoped to tell you in person.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry I muffed it so badly.”

“I don’t understand why. I’m not like those others.”

“Nay, you’re not.” His eyes flickered. “And that’s exactly why.”

“Cass, I—”

“I know what you’re going to say. You can’t touch me without seeing them. All the others. That’s why I’m going to get rid of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“With your help, I’m going to use the Reliquary to erase the memories. The next time you kiss me, you won’t be competing with anyone else. The only woman in my past—in my head—will be you.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“But it is,” he said, more intensely. “None of them mean a thing to me, Seph. But you do.”

I was deeply moved by the offer of his mind as well as his heart. It would be a lie to say I didn’t admire him, even more now I knew he’d apparently given up his carousing ways. Where Dorian wanted to surrender his past for his own sake, Cass desired to give it up for mine.

Not only that but, judging by my response to him, I was attracted to him. If I truly loved Dorian, would I still have feelings for Cass? Or was it Dorian’s gift—Dorian saving my life as a young and impressionable girl—that clouded my judgment? Had I failed to see what was right in front of me because I’d fallen in love with a dream that could never be?

Cass reached out and took my hand, and I did my best not to touch his mind, though it was becoming harder and harder to restrain my gift. His voice was soft. “We Calderans speak so much of the past and the future that we forget about the present, Seph. We would be good together.” He grinned. “I’m sure you don’t need to work too hard to imagine that.”

I blushed. “There’s more to a relationship than that.”

“I know. But it helps, doesn’t it?”

I was close enough to see the shadows beneath his eyes. “It’s no permanent cure for pain or heartsickness, as you’ve already discovered.”

“It would be different with us. I didn’t love the others . . . I never shared their sorrow the way I’ve shared yours. But I love you. I would do anything to make you mine.”

When I didn’t respond, Cass pressed on, “I’ll speak with the thane. Whatever I have to do to free you, I’ll do it. We can stay in Lethe together, near your family. Your brother likes me, and so do your parents, but I want to make my own way. You know I wasn’t always a slave, Seph. And my wretched brother won’t live forever. One day soon I could be a lord again.”

I attempted to gently withdraw my fingers from his. “I have to think about it, Cass. I . . . I can’t decide right now.”

There were no green or black ribbons, but he squeezed my hand and then frowned. Did he know what even I did not? With his next words, he confirmed it. “That’s a very polite way of saying nay.” The frown turned to a scowl. “It’s the thane, isn’t it?”

“Nay, I—” Black ribbons proved me a liar.

Cass clenched his jaw. “Is it because he’s a lord? Because he has a fortune? A title?”

“Of course not,” I snapped, angry that he would think so poorly of me. “I cared for him long before I knew he was a lord. You knew that almost from the beginning. I never lied to you, Cass.”

Frustration crossed his face. “You have feelings for me or else you’d have slapped me by now.”

When I didn’t deny it, he drew closer. “This regard you have for him is foolish, Seph. Silly, besotted, schoolgirl love. You’re a grown woman now.”

“A woman who knows her heart better than you claim to.”

“He’s much too old for you. By all the old gods, Seph, he was fourteen when he saved you from that canal. Fourteen, and you were just walking.”

“Running,” I corrected. “I was already running.”

“And when you were still a girl,” Cass continued, “he was getting married. To a woman who he’s still in love with, even though she’s been lying in a grave for two years. You can’t bear the thought of competing with the living. Can you bear to compete with the dead?”

“If he cared for me, I would never try to replace her.”

“But he would. How could you stand it if you were with him and he was thinking of her? The worst thing is that you would know it.”

I felt blood drain from my face. “Odd that you would criticize him for that, considering what I just saw in your mind.”

He ignored my barb, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps the Reliquary can serve us both. You can remove your unrequited love for him, and I’ll remove my memories, and we can be together.”

I knew he only spoke from his hurt, but this time, I almost did slap him. He was only suggesting what I had already contemplated doing to Dorian—removing his memories of Lida Ashwood, along with his love for her, and replacing them with memories of me. But from his lips, the proposal seemed even more ridiculous . . . more abhorrent.

“Nay,” I said emphatically. “What of free will, Cass? Love must be born of free will to be genuinely love, else it is worse than slavery. And you and I have had our fill of that. Don’t you remember the memory potions? Old-fashioned, you said. Bottled memories are different to true memories, and we both know the difference.”

A flush crept up his neck, and I wondered at it, because never before had he appeared ashamed of his past.

“Besides,” I added more gently, “even if I did what you’re asking, how could you stand it? You would be tortured by the truth about Dorian.”

I thought of the nightingale I’d seen that day in Nulla, and I told him about the bird—about its rich and pure song, the way it had serenaded me. The sound that was so different than the song I’d heard only in memories.

“A chained bird cannot love truly, Cass,” I said finally. “Deep down, you know that as well as I do.”

His gloved hand encircled my upper arm—where the metal cuff had always been. “A chained bird cannot love truly, hmm? And what of this chain? Is this not the blind love of a slave for her master?”

I pulled on my arm and he released me. “That isn’t for you to judge.”

“If the thane loved you, he would have freed you by now.”

I spun away, dragging on my silk glove.

He called after me, “Even if what you wish for comes to pass, Seph, you will only ever be his second choice. Second best. Is that what you want?”

Tears pricked my eyes, but I wouldn’t cry in front of Cass. “I have to go,” I said in a half-choked voice. “I’m sorry.”

I stumbled out into the moonlight, half expecting him to come after me. But he didn’t, and I wondered if he would remain to lick the wounds I’d inflicted. My emotions were reeling.

How dare he remind me of my slavery. How dare he suggest that without him, I would always be unloved.

Tears replaced tension, and as the moonlight slipped behind a cloud, I shivered and thought longingly of my shawl.

I wanted to go home. Home, where everything about me had once made sense. Where I had once been loved and wanted. I searched the grassy expanse, now streaked with shadows.

Brinsley—I had to find my brother. And then I would ask him to take me back.