Flick rubbed the back of her hand across her swollen lips. She buzzed from head to toe, and her skin felt tight. Some sort of adrenaline roared through her, akin to the way she felt when he’d spoken her name. The name I made for myself. The name she had chosen after she’d left her home behind. The name that fit her the way the grit and grime of White Roaring did.
When Jin’s breath skated her neck, she hadn’t been thinking of the consequences; she wasn’t worried about what her mother or anyone else might think. Jin had never expected her to be more than what she was.
She didn’t know if her mother truly did seek to repair her name or if she was still in league with the Ram, but what Flick did know was that she was done with Lady Linden. Done vying for a love that didn’t exist.
Arthie was right. She had been lost, but she had finally found her way. She might be stumbling along it right now because she had never been kissed before, and she certainly hadn’t thought she’d ever kiss Jin Casimir, but she had found it nonetheless.
The press was slowly crowding the hall. Matteo had gathered quite the extensive list. Flick recognized badges from almost every one of the papers in White Roaring, despite the late hour.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many news folk in one place before,” Jin commented, his voice slightly hoarse. It gave Flick a little thrill, even if she couldn’t look at him without imagining his mouth on hers. Focus. They had a job to do, and once the Ram arrived—as well as her mother—they needed to be on full alert.
Flick made the rounds as Arthie had instructed, picking up bits of conversation as she passed.
“What is this damning document we’ve been promised?”
“I didn’t know Arthie Casimir was involved. This could be scandalous.”
“Are we even to believe anything we hear?”
Flick’s heart sped up anytime she saw the ledger in Arthie’s hands. In many ways, that violet-ribboned book made Arthie the most powerful person in Ettenia, because with it, she controlled the Ram. But it was their one piece of evidence, their one and only recourse in this country that had taken so much from them.
She stopped to pick up a glass of water, hoping that would settle her nerves a bit. When she set her glass down, something brushed against her leg, featherlight like an insect that might have slipped inside the hall.
“Oh, you’re no fly, are you?” she crooned.
It was Laith’s kitten, fluffy tail swishing back and forth like a duster, that motor of a purr starting up again when Flick crouched.
“We really ought to give you a name. Something like Snowflake or Alabaster.” Those were white, but neither sounded like a name fit for a kitten. She’d never had a pet before. “Cloud, maybe? You are very floofy. Or Snow or even Opal for how regal you are.”
Stop distracting yourself, Flick chided. She looked around the hall. If the kitten was here, Laith was bound to be close. Strange. Arthie had made it seem as if she had severed ties with the high captain. Had she changed her mind and invited him here?
Flick picked up the kitten and took her over to where Jin was waiting by one of the round tables piled high with refreshments, where they were to be stationed. He seemed just as confused by the sight of the kitten as she was.
Arthie snapped her pocket watch closed, drawing Flick and Jin’s attention. She nodded. At a poised knock, Matteo pulled open the double doors at the end of the hall, and Flick felt each beat of her heart like a smithy’s hammer in her ears.
Jin reached for her hand and squeezed. “Stick to the plan. No matter what happens, we protect the ledger.”
Flick nodded. The kitten wriggled free and darted under the tablecloth to hide. Flick wished she could join her.
The Ram swept into the hall, wearing a cloak as deeply blue as the sea. The guests exclaimed in surprise, voices stirring to a hum. Every bulb in the chandelier lit a different facet of that nefarious mask, horns curling from the antique bronze like those of the devil.
Only the Ram’s eyes were visible, bright and cerulean.
Flick’s heart stopped. She could barely gasp. She stumbled back. Jin was asking her what was wrong, but she couldn’t hear him. The room faded, the buzz of the press’s excited voices winnowing away.
And Flick had a single, harrowing thought: She always did think her mother had remarkable eyes.