“I know.” Grant speculatively ran his fingertips over the letter. “Warren Doyle started the patrols. If they’re being used as couriers for the conspiracy, it seems like there’s a good chance he might be part of it. And the letter mentions Hadisen.”

   Silas’s face twisted into a scowl. “I thought about that. Hadisen turns out a lot of gold, too. Sir Ronald was certain their big financer was a Lorandian noble, but we’re going to have to look into Doyle now.”

   Warren Doyle, a conspirator. It certainly fit with the villainous image of him I was building.

   “Don’t go the usual way to Bakerston,” Silas added, rummaging through his papers. “You can’t risk crossing paths with the patrol if they head up early. This road here . . .”

   He took out a map, and Aiana tugged at my arm. “Now I’m taking her home. She’s proved her worth. She deserves some sleep.”

   Silas lifted his head from the map and fixed me with a piercing look. “You’ve more than proved your worth, Miss Viana. And you’ve also proven—again—that I was a fool for wanting to get rid of you.”

   “Uh, thank you.” Compliments from Silas threw me off almost as much as Grant’s.

   Aiana was already at the door. “Good luck, Iyitsi.”

   I followed reluctantly, needing to say more to Grant but knowing I couldn’t. And even if others hadn’t been around, he wouldn’t have given me an emotional, heartfelt farewell anyway. It wasn’t his way.

   Aiana walked outside, but I stopped in the doorway to look back at Grant. Despite his and Silas’s brusque attitudes, I knew how dangerous this was. Grant was penetrating the heart of the conspiracy. “Be careful,” I told him. “I—we want you to come back.”

   Silas snorted and stalked off into his bedroom, apparently searching for something. “Don’t worry. I’ll still make sure you get your reward even if he doesn’t.”

   “Glad to know you’ll be so torn up about it,” Grant called. Turning to me, he pitched his voice low. “I’ll be back. No need to find some other man’s bed yet.”

   “You think I’m that kind of woman?”

   “I think someone as brave and beautiful as you could find other company if she wanted to. Oh, and brilliant too. You were brilliant tonight.”

   The earnestness in his voice took me aback almost as much as the words themselves. I grasped for a witty response but ended up blurting out: “I don’t want you back for your bed. I want you back . . . for you. It’s just that simple.”

   Grant faltered a moment, as discomfited as I’d been. “This has never been simple.”

   “Mira!”

   Aiana sounded impatient, and Silas was returning from the bedroom. I gave Grant one last look of farewell and then scurried off after her.

   We didn’t speak much as we walked back. The brief high of the discovery at Silas’s faded, and the effects of so little sleep slammed into me. It took a lot of effort just to put one foot in front of the other. Still, I managed to tentatively ask, “Are you . . . mad? About . . . you know.”

   “Mad? No. Not exactly. Worried for both of you. And surprised. You never seemed interested in anything like that.”

   “I’m interested in it with him.” As soon as I said those words, I felt my face heat up and was grateful for the darkness. “And it’s . . . I mean . . . it’s better than I thought it would be. A lot better. It’s also easier than I expected. Well, in bed, at least. Outside of it, things are more . . . complicated.”

   She laughed loudly at that. “That’s the way it always is. And I imagine it’s doubly true with Iyitsi. You probably never know which face is going to show up.”

   Her words hit harder than she realized, and I thought back to the moments before she’d arrived. “What did you say to him when you walked in?”

   “Oh, I called him a few names. Maybe more than a few.” The mirth vanished. “And I told him he was leading you into things you aren’t ready for.”

   “And what did he say?”

   “That you were doing the same to him.”

   It was another of those nights when I felt like I hadn’t even had a chance to close my eyes before waking. And when I stepped outside of my room, the whole house was buzzing about what had happened in Hadisen.

   “Did you know?” Sylvia kept asking me. “Did you know Adelaide was the Countess of Rothford?”

   But that wasn’t even what they found most shocking. Apparently during his arrest, Cedric had been caught possessing Alanzan artifacts—which increased the stakes for him. No one thought to ask if I’d known about that, but they speculated on everything else. The chatter was grating.

   “No one knows for sure what he was caught with. And even if he did have something, that doesn’t mean he’s one of them.”

   “Why else would you have something Alanzan?”

   “Do you think Jasper and Charles knew?”

   “I don’t think so. Jasper won’t even come out of his office.”

   “Yeah, but if he did know beforehand, of course he’d pretend he didn’t.”

   The gossip persisted in the days that followed, and I stayed away in my room as much as possible. The delay caused by Cedric’s recovery in Hadisen only fueled the excited speculation. Everyone was eager for Adelaide’s return, simply to hear more of the drama. I wanted her back so that I could see with my own eyes that she was safe and sound. Her continued absence gnawed at me, as did Grant’s. I had no idea what had happened on Ramiel’s Day. Silas, reported Aiana, didn’t either. It worried her too, and she continued with the crossbow lessons when time allowed. She needed the distraction as much as I did. What I really longed to do was don Lady Aviel’s mask and strike out into the city. When my housemates could drag themselves away from gossiping about Adelaide, they had plenty of tales of danger and intrigue they’d heard about in Cape Triumph. Petty robberies, assaults. The militia could only follow up on so many—and the ones they did usually only involved influential citizens. The injustice of it made me restless, and I longed to stand up for the downtrodden. But I held myself back, both to avoid being the type of vigilante I’d lectured Tom about and because I didn’t want to cross paths with him.