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TO MY DISMAY, I SOON found out my excitement was unwarranted.
“Are we finished yet?” I asked, grumbling as I stood on the small pedestal. “I’ve been here for hours.”
“Let Jaqueline finish,” Lady POW barked. “This is hardly difficult, Eleanora.”
I groaned. For hours, I had been standing in the middle of a large parlor room, one that had been closed off to the other parts of the wing, all while three of Lady POW’s maidservants worked to measure every inch of my body. Jaqueline, Amelia, and Marguerite doubled as seamstresses, and they were making me different outfits to wear.
“I don’t see why a new outfit is necessary. I can work fine in my current skirts. Ben and I have been brawling with each other and battling our way around the manor since we were born.”
“You have been wearing that oversized maid’s outfit for far too long, Eleanora.” Lady POW sat at a small writing desk in the corner of the room, jotting down notes and, from the looks of it, keeping up with her correspondence. “I thought you were much bigger than you actually are.”
I bit my lip, irritated. It was bad enough I was naked except for my chemise and stockings, but Lady POW made the whole experience much worse. Every ten minutes or so, she would glance over at me, narrow her eyes, and call out some condescending judgment or shake her head with a sigh. Occasionally, she would come over to me and circle me, wearing a look of cold professionalism that unnerved me.
While it was tempting to whirl around to face her, if for no other reason than to remind her that she had flaws, too, I was stuck holding my arms out straight while Amelia wrapped them in rolls of a range of different fabrics, from velvet and silk to leather and suede. If I moved even the slightest, her pins would dig into my arm. I discovered this for the second time when I glanced behind me, surprised by another one of Lady POW’s comments.
“You have good hips for birthing, Eleanora,” Lady Penelope observed. “We will have to be careful, though; it seems one is a little higher than the other. It’s not ideal for fighting.”
I was just about to ask her what my hips had to do with fighting when she continued.
“Men like hips like yours; they make it easier to grab onto during intercourse.”
My face went dark red instantly.
“It will likely be easy to coerce information from your opponents and informants if you use your bodily charms, should the occasion call for it.”
“What?” My voice nearly squeaked.
Lady POW grimaced. “Oh, dear. It has been a long time since I have dealt with the sexually inexperienced. Marguerite? Add that to the list, please.”
It was suddenly much easier to worry about fighting.
“Lady Penelope,” I said, “I would rather learn how to beat the answers out of my opponents, please. I don’t ... I don’t want to ... ” My voice trailed off as I felt the heat in my face rise.
“Spoken like a true innocent.” Lady Penelope sighed. “In that case, consider yourself fortunate that we don’t have time for a full review of the curriculum.”
I did. I considered myself very, very fortunate.
“I will go over the basics, and that should be enough to suffice for our current mission,” Lady Penelope said.
“Now?” My eyes went wide with horror at the thought.
“Come now, Eleanora, don’t tell me you have never even thought of sex before?”
“I know what it is,” I shot back through gritted teeth. “If that is what you mean.”
“Any simpleton can look at a painting or sculpture and know that it is art. But only a true and trained master knows how to create such a splendid pleasure.”
I squirmed. “This is hardly appropriate.”
“One does what one must, Eleanora; propriety be damned.” Lady Penelope returned to her desk.
“What do you think I will be doing that requires such ... explicit ... knowledge? I thought I was just to be a cover.”
“And you will be,” Lady Penelope agreed. “We will begin introducing you to everyone in Prague tomorrow, ordering clothes for you so you can attend socials and breakfasts and balls. Hopefully, it will not be too much longer before we can launch you into Society properly.” She reached over and took a sip from her teacup. “God, I miss England. London is so wonderful this time of year.”
“None of what you listed seems like it would require a discourse on manipulative sexuality,” I said, ignoring my own stomach’s grumbling as I suddenly wanted some tea for myself.
“There is more to your introduction to Society that we need to concern ourselves with,” Lady Penelope said.
“You’re not secretly auctioning me off to the marriage mart, are you? I can already tell you that I would reject such a fate.”
“Hearing that relieves my nerves like nothing else.” Lady POW rolled her eyes. “The Order takes its business seriously. There is no time for real romance in these instances. Relationships just cause problems.”
For some reason, Ferdy’s face flashed in my mind, and I felt sad at the thought of never seeing him again.
“Take it from me, Eleanor. It is best to use people as much as you can and then forget them.”
At my mother’s name, I winced, but that was not the only reason her statement shook me. From the harshness of her voice, I could tell it was a personal lesson she had learned.
“Eleanora,” I corrected.
Lady Penelope did not seem to hear me. “Jaqueline, make sure we have enough material to hide Eleanora’s hips, s’il vous plait.”
As Jaqueline filled in my corset with extra padding, giving me more of a boyish figure, I decided I would do my best to make sure that, even if I did learn how to use my bosom to get what I wanted, I never needed to employ it.
“What kind of outfit is this?” I glanced down at the full ensemble. It was made of all black, with different shades and different materials. As Amelia allowed me to lower my arms, I felt the smoothness of the leather as it hugged my body. My legs were nearly bare, with only short pants reaching to my knees. It felt like a long pair of delicates, even though I had on a pair underneath it. I felt better that there was a leather skirt hanging over my legs, secured at the waist with a belt.
“This is your stealth habit,” Lady Penelope said. “The leather is sturdy and able to provide some protection. The lining is infused with silk, to provide comfort as well as smooth movement, and the linen wraps are there to provide padding.”
“Padding for my hips?” I asked her, still annoyed by her earlier comments.
“Yes. Although the wraps are typically there more for your wrists and knuckles.”
Marguerite came up to me. “Here, mademoiselle. This is a hood for you.”
“A hood?” Before I could ask for specifics, she pushed the material over my head, briefly catching on my hair.
“It has a mask sewn into it.” Amelia said, reaching toward my face. She wrestled with the material as I tried not to groan. When I could see properly again, I saw Jaqueline had brought a small hand mirror over for me.
I gazed into it and briefly wondered if everyone else could see how uncomfortable I felt. My eyes were a stormy blue, and my face was clearly pale. My hair had been shuffled free from my pins, so some of my disheveled curls were sticking out from under my hood.
“You and your brother both have such beautiful black hair,” Marguerite said. “It matches the outfit perfectly.”
“Put the mask on,” Amelia said, before she did it for me.
A strip of thick, dark cloth suddenly pressed against my nose and mouth, and I coughed at the sudden interruption of fresh air into my lungs. No one else voiced any objection; the seamstresses all smiled and gasped, delighted to see my semi-finished self.
I had to admit, I liked it. The long tunic over the leggings made it much easier to move, and my arms were loose enough that I could move without tearing at my seams.
“C’est parfait,” Marguerite cheered.
“Wonderful!” Amelia beamed.
I had to wonder what I was supposed to be doing in an outfit like that.
Lady POW made her way over to me once more. “It’ll do. Now, ladies, we do not have much time. Please see to it that this is finished first.”
“Oui, Madame.” Their choral response was amusing, and it cheered me up some as they began to slide the outfit off me.
“Madame, what about the rest of her attire?” Amelia asked. “Should we get started on that as well?”
“We will need a walking dress for her; make it in the Parisian style.” Lady Penelope looked thoughtful. “I will take Eleanora out to the city tomorrow and order other clothes. As much as I know you ladies are the finest talents with a needle and thread this side of the globe, I need to make Eleanora a sensation.”
She turned to me. “Which means we will need to go over etiquette next.”
I drew myself up proudly—or as proudly as I could, as Jaqueline, Amelia, and Marguerite were peeling away the pinned fabric. When my mouth was free of the mask, I said, “I remember a good bit of what Máma taught me.”
I did not add the additional insight Tulia had provided me, considering most of it was counterproductive to acting like a true lady.
“You were only a child.” Lady Penelope dismissed my concern. “I doubt Eleanor taught you how to flirt outrageously with a man and get away with it under the guise of innocence, or how to waltz, or any number of other important skills you will need to learn in order to stand out.”
I could have used that chance to ask her about the mission, and why I would need to learn all of that, but something else bothered me more about what she said.
“Why does Harshad call Máma Dezda?” I asked. “My father always introduced her as Lady Eleanor.”
“Your mother’s first name was Eleanor, but Harshad and I often called her Dezda, for her middle name. It is not that unusual a practice; Queen Victoria’s first name is actually Alexandrina.” Lady Penelope waved her hand. “It is hardly a matter of concern.”
“So it is a British tradition to call people by their middle names?”
“Do not be foolish, Eleanora. People often have names that are specific to their loved ones. Your own brother calls you Nora, after all.”
I thought of Ferdy calling me “Ella,” and smiled. I smiled even more as I faced the temptation to ask Lady POW if Harshad’s name for her, Pepé, was an endearment.
But a long, thoughtful moment later, I decided since Lady Penelope had the power to make me suffer, it would be best not to provoke her—especially when I was already tired from the past several hours of wardrobe demands. “I suppose that is true.”
“Of course it is. Now, stay still. Do not cause my lovely seamstresses any duress. One more dress for today, a riding habit for later this week, and then we will be finished here.”
I kept my groan to myself and prepared to feel another hours-long session of aches and stiffness as I was prodded and poked and measured.
Watching her scribble notes on a small tablet of stationary, I realized Lady POW had yet to tell me anything specific about her special assignment—or why she was concerned with Dr. Artha’s death.
“What is the stealth habit for, exactly?” I asked. “I can’t imagine I will need to wear this while I’m dancing and flirting outrageously out in Society.”
“You’re so inquisitive, Eleanora.”
“I wouldn’t be, if you would answer my questions.”
Lady POW gave me a sly smirk. “True. I don’t know yet what this assignment will demand of you. I was not expecting you at all, and now that you are here, I feel as though I have our Dezda back.”
Lady POW’s gaze moved across my face and over my messy curls. I saw her sadness, and I mourned for my mother’s loss once more. This time, it was not just for my own loss, however; I saw more than ever that her absence had removed me from an entire life I could have known, and one in which there were more people to embrace.
“But,” Lady Penelope said, her voice snapping back to its professional tone, “luck favors the prepared. You might need such a suit if we need information or reconnaissance.”
“You mean espionage?”
“You would be surprised at how often the right information has saved lives,” Lady Penelope said. “It is easier to save lives with the right information than to simply take out threats.”
I nodded. My only real experience with a threat seemed to be Alex, with his pretentious and licentious expressions. Kicking him and occasionally bloodying him up was simple, but then, he was really a simple villain.
“Will we begin looking into Dr. Artha’s death?”
“You will not be worried about that,” Lady Penelope said. “I will handle that. I have contacts sending me information. For your end of the mission, we will go out to shop and socialize. We will need to make arrangements to be invited to different houses and parties throughout the season.”
“Dr. Artha’s death seems like a bigger concern,” I said. “Especially since he was your lead contact and he was murdered.”
“You would do well to remember that murder is always a serious business. I will not involve you in this aspect of my mission, Eleanora. It is risky, even for an experienced spy.”
“Dr. Artha was my father’s friend,” I said. “I remember him from when I was younger. If he was murdered, and there is something I can do, I should do it, should I not?”
“That question is now mine to answer, both as your grandmother and your direct leader, and I have told you what you will do about it.”
“But skipping around Society seems ... ” I searched for the right word, knowing that Lady POW would likely not care if I feared boredom or vanity, especially compared to the threat of murder. “Inefficient.”
“It is actually very efficient, in terms of my inquiries. Remember, the Diets will be meeting again before the year is out,” Lady Penelope said. “We will need to keep the elites entertained to avoid suspicion. With my arrival, we will have plenty of it already. Especially since I will not be able to manipulate Cecilia into helping me as I had originally planned.”
“Suspicion?” I frowned. “What are you talking about? There’s no need to worry about anyone being suspicious of us. Unless it’s possible you were lying about my father’s will?”
Lady POW clapped her hands together. I had a feeling she was getting impatient herself, considering my previous concern for efficiency was marred by my own arguments. “You do not have to worry about Cecilia anymore, Eleanora. As I have said, you are free from her. You are under my protection now.”
I stood there, wrapped in pins and measuring tape, wearing only my undergarments. I had to wonder if this was truly freedom, or if it was only a different kind of cage.
But there was one thing I wanted to know for certain.
“You had a message from Queen Victoria for Cecilia, but nothing for Ben or for me.”
“Yes. When your mother moved out here, she married Dolf. He was almost bankrupt, and I bought the manor’s property, as I said before, in order to help them out. When she died, I largely left it to my man of affairs. He had years in between her letters, as he was inquiring if she wanted to buy the property back. She never seemed to have the money for it. When Queen Victoria requested my presence here, I came with the intent to befriend her and settle our accounts.”
“You are not going to do that now.” There was no question behind my statement.
“Heavens, no. Now I will see she suffers in any way I can imagine. And I will stay here, overseeing your entrance to Society and Benedict’s education. I will look for a new house in the city, but this one is suitable for now.”
I felt my breath catch as I asked the question I had wanted to ask since she had revealed herself. “You really did not know about me or Ben, did you?”
“I see your powers of observation and deduction are well-honed. This is to our benefit. Even if you will have nothing to do with the murder, you will need to pay close attention to what you see and observe as you go about your role,” Lady Penelope replied.
She was right about my powers of observation. That was proven once more as I noticed she did not answer my question. “When did you find out about us?” I tried again.
“It wasn’t me, initially. Amir was the one who found you.” She sighed. “When he saw you in town yesterday, he came rushing back to our hotel and told me he had discovered something of critical importance. I thought it was something related to the mission, but then ... ”
Suddenly, I would have given almost anything to have been there, to see the look on Lady POW’s face, when Amir told her about me.
“And Ben?” I asked.
“You told me about Ben, just after I saw you myself for the first time.”
“I remember that.”
“Good. You will need to have a good memory,” Lady Penelope said, trying to switch topics.
I did not let her. “Máma never wrote to you about me and Ben at all?”
She shook her head.
My throat was suddenly dry as I remembered meeting Amir. Briefly, I was torn between disgust at his thieving and my despondence over my mother’s secretiveness; it was hard to decide which one felt worse.
“You mustn’t hold it against her,” Lady Penelope said. “Believe me, I could hold it against her enough for the two of us.”
“Why did she—?”
“Everyone has secrets, Eleanora.” Lady Penelope sat down at her small desk again, looking glum. “Everyone lies, everyone has secrets, and everyone has regrets. In the end, the truth cannot hide forever. But if you are to take your mother’s place in the Order, you must accept you may never know some things. You will spend your life searching for truth, but there is no guarantee you will find it.”
“I will,” I insisted.
Lady POW gave me a rueful look. “Careful. Your naïve illusions will get the better of you if you let them. Thankfully, you will be following my lead on this mission.”
“But surely that doesn’t mean I will be running around and following your orders blindly?”
She gave me a look, and I knew at once that Lady POW was expecting exactly that.
I grimaced. “Really?”
“You’ve followed Cecilia’s orders for years, from what the staff and others have told me,” Lady Penelope pointed out. “And I know you do your best to follow the teachings of the church.”
“My faith in God is not blind, and neither is my fear of Cecilia’s wrath,” I argued.
“True. But in regards to Lady Cecilia, I will say that you will need to unlearn what she has taught you. Being under another’s authority is not necessarily something to abhor. A bad master, yes. But not mastery itself. She is not to be feared.”
“I know you have taken care of her for the meantime,” I said slowly, “but it might be a long time before I trust in it.”
“And you have that right. But I would request you speed it up as much as possible. And not just for your own sake, but for your brother’s, too. It is clear she has managed to do more damage to him than you.”
There was no denying she was right about that. “You are correct. But that does not mean I will follow your orders without explanation.”
“I am the leader of the Order, Eleanora. It is your job to follow my orders, whether you know why or not. My goodness, do you want me to put a formal request, as though I was petitioning the House of Lords? I will never understand your generation’s comfort in bureaucracy.” She gave me an assessing gaze. “But ... ”
“But what?”
“But you and I must find a way to work together. So I will tell you this much. I was telling you the truth that I have been sent to Prague by the request of Queen Victoria. She wants to make sure this area is secure, especially with all the trouble she is facing in India right now.”
As Amelia began to pull the newer set of sleeves off my arms, I asked, “What’s happening in India?”
“Trouble,” Lady Penelope replied. “There are several in the government who are making an appeal to the queen to become their ruler.”
“But India is on the other side of the world,” I said. “How would she be able to rule it from England?”
“The same way she rules her other land holdings in the Americas and in Australia,” Lady Penelope said with a sharp smile. “By good and gracious force, and the goodwill of God.”
I frowned. “I guess that’s quite an accomplishment. The Bohemians here cannot even rule themselves. The German Diet has been in power for so long. I do not know much about politics, but even I know their stalemates are legendary.”
“Which is another reason why I have been asked to come,” Lady Penelope said. “There are always people who look for something to be discontent over, and there are always people who seek to make their discontent the government’s problem. The rule of law is precarious enough in this region, and the recent causes for alarm are particularly unsettling. If Prague was not experiencing an economic boom thanks to Bohemia’s coal industry, we would see much more of a political uprising.”
“I guess if the death of Dr. Artha was enough to disrupt the country, it is something to be concerned about.”
“It is not just his death. The other two similar deaths were members of the Upper House of the Lords, who had a lot of influence in the Reichsrat, the German-speaking Parliament of Bohemia and Austria. The representatives from Mlada and Beroun were killed, supposedly by Jews.”
I frowned. The death of Dr. Artha, and the other deaths that Ferdy and Clavan discussed the other night suddenly seemed even more sad.
A new thought struck me as I stood there. I have a reason to go and see Ferdy again!
My body prickled with excitement as I cheered silently, while Lady POW paced around the room.
“Of course, it is possible they are using the Jews as a scapegoat. Still, this is discomforting. There have been other deaths, too, where the Parliament members have likely been poisoned.”
“Poison.” I shuddered. “That sounds awful.”
“It is. Especially since the Order has identified the poison in question. It makes it look like the individual has had a heart attack. It is only hours afterward that the skin turns blue at the fingers.”
“If it works so well, why did they kill Dr. Artha in the street?” I asked. “And the others, too?”
“It is possible, though very unlikely, that the two Lords had a natural immunity to the poison,” Lady Penelope said. “Thus, a different means of disposal would be required.”
“And Dr. Artha?”
“We don’t know yet if he was killed by the same people. That is one thing we are looking at in this investigation. But just because something looks a certain way, does not mean it is true. Once you see that, you begin to see everything else.”
A small smile flitted to my lips as I recalled Ferdy’s similar observations. “I suppose you’re right, even though I have yet to see it.”
“Then you must understand why this is too important for you to go about untested,” Lady Penelope said. “There is more than your comfort at risk, Eleanora.”
I snorted. “It’s been years since I’ve had a life of comfort.”
“Even in your life under your stepmother’s cruelty,” Lady Penelope said, “you have been sheltered from the world’s pain. Do not think pain only takes something away from you. You have experienced things being taken away, but you have also been given things as a result.”
I suddenly felt very small, as the world around me grew and I shrank.
In that moment, I did not know what was more overwhelming to me; the idea that my pain, as great as it was some days, was small compared to the world’s, or the idea that the world’s problems were much bigger and much more complex compared to mine.
As if she sensed my displacement, Lady Penelope nodded prudently. “You have lived your life here, on the outskirts of Prague and across the Vltava. As you grow older, you see more of the world and its politics, its hypocrisy, and its illusions. The trick is not to allow it to drag you down.”
I was uncomfortable with the bitterness in her voice, but it was not enough to stop me from seeing that, despite her cynicism, Lady POW was still determined to accomplish her goal. “Yes, Lady Penelope.”
She gave me an approving look, no doubt at my humble tone. “Whatever our association comes to be, Eleanora, I will always be your grandmother, and I am very proud to have that title. When Eleanor died, I thought all was lost. Now I know that I was wrong. Of all things I could have been wrong about, I am very glad it was that.”
Looking me up and down with a critical eye once more, she added, “Which is why I am going to tell you now that you will need to go on a diet and begin an exercise regime as we make our way into Prague’s Society. You are much too soft around your middle to be considered fashionable. The empress would be frightened if she ever met you in this state.”
I groaned. “Empress Elisabeth is much too thin,” I said with a shudder. “I have heard the rumors that she has a thirteen-inch waist, and if my hips are good for birthing, I doubt I will ever have her proportions.”
“If you are going to add to your stepmother’s comeuppance, we must make you a sensation, yes?”
She must have expected me to nod or voice my agreement, but my accommodating disposition was gone. “A sensation is more feasible than a stick, Madame.”
Lady POW chuckled. “Oh, Eleanora. You do remind me so much of Eleanor. You will be a legend among the town within a fortnight.”
Pudgy hips and all, I thought with a smirk.