“Would you come after me with a knife if I did?” he asked.

   “That depends on if you’ll tell me what the pick with the double curve is for.”

   That surprised him again, enough that it warranted a second look. While the hat drooped over part of his face, the chandelier above clearly illuminated the cheek I’d seen before. It had the same weathered surface and same star-like scar. Except . . . was it in a different place? I could’ve sworn that last time, that scar sat in the center of his cheek. But I saw now that it was much closer to his ear, the one with the nick in its side. I’d obviously been wrong. It’d been dark and rainy that night, and other matters had preoccupied me.

   “You tried to use that one?” he asked.

   “I’ve used all of them,” I replied proudly. “All around the house. Still figuring out how to make a few work. But that one I can’t even find a lock for.”

   “It’s for safes,” he said after a small coughing fit. “Big safes, the kind banks use. I doubt you’ve got any around here.”

   “Have you broken into any safes like that?”

   He snorted. “I wouldn’t be hauling away your dishes if I had. Looks like you had some sort of fancy affair going on.”

   “A ballroom picnic—since it’s too cold to have one outside. Although I think it was more of a ploy.”

   He had turned his face from me again but couldn’t resist that observation. “How so?”

   “Jas—Mister Thorn let us spend time with our families. I think he hoped it would soften the shock of us going early.”

   He stopped his work. “Early?”

   “We’re leaving for Adoria in just about a month. Our exams start right away.”

   “A month,” he repeated, staring off in the distance. “That isn’t a prime sailing time. It can be done, but it’s not pleasant. And sometimes it’s, well . . . never mind. Thorn must want to get a jump on other traders. What fool captain did he get to agree to this?”

   His keen interest was startling. “I don’t know anything about that. Just that I have to be ready in time. Exams. Dress fittings.”

   The man nodded absentmindedly and seemed to give up on his work altogether. “I have to go.”

   “What about these?” I gestured to the boxes he’d abandoned.

   “Someone else will come for them. Or you can feel free to jump in.” He turned toward the door. “Good luck with your tests and dresses.”

   “Wait,” I called as he started to walk away. He paused. “I . . . I did what you said. About information. I used the picks to find out about Clara’s past, and you were right. She has a secret, and now I know it. And she knows that I know.”

   He was angled away from me but seemed to be smiling. “So no more gossip?”

   “No more anything. Information is power.”

   “Well done. You’re a natural.”

   “Do you want your picks back?”

   “Keep them. I told you I have extras.”

   “But why? Why give them to me at all?”

   “Because you strike me as a woman who’s going to want to go a lot of places that other people say you can’t. These will help even the odds.” He strode to the door more confidently now, and I knew he’d no longer be delayed. “Thanks for the help,” he called back, just before shutting the door. I stared after it, mystified.

   “What help?” I asked. The empty room didn’t answer back, and after a few more moments, I trudged back up to my room to prepare for the last chapter of my training in the Glittering Court.

CHAPTER 5

   I SPENT THE NEXT WEEK WITH MY HEAD IN MY BOOKS. Language remained my top priority, no matter what Professor Brewer said. My accent’s implications in daily Adorian life bothered me. I needed a husband with means who’d treat me as an equal. That latter attribute could actually be harder to find, but the more options I had, the better. Likewise, the more Osfridian I appeared while searching for Lonzo, the more influence I’d exert.

   Tamsin barely ate or slept. Adelaide existed in her usual way. She gave little thought to her test results and mostly just hoped she’d have a few good choices. Occasionally, she’d practice pronunciation with me, which I found incredibly useful, given her excellent speech. She in turn loved hearing me imitate the accents of other languages. I’d caved to Professor Brewer’s suggestion and learned several.

   “That’s incredible!” laughed Adelaide, the night before exams began. “You sound just like this servant that used to work in our house.”

   We were supposed to be studying linguistics, but she had talked me into taking a break and imitating someone from Skarsia. A native Osfridian could usually tell I was Sirminican when they heard my natural accent, but my origins were harder to pick out if I masked Osfridian with something else.

   “Do a Lorandian one,” Adelaide urged, her face alight.

   When I did, Adelaide fell over onto her bed giggling, but Tamsin sighed loudly. “If you two don’t care about your own studies, at least stop interrupting mine. And I grew up around the corner from a Lorandian baker. You’re a little off.”

   “No, she’s not.” Adelaide sat back up, still grinning. “They have regional differences just like we do. She’s got the northwest perfectly.”

   Adelaide’s smile was infectious, but I did feel bad about bothering Tamsin. She looked so serious surrounded by books. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know how much this means to you.”

   “Everyone knows,” added Adelaide, turning serious. “But you’re going to kill yourself. Take a break. At least get a full night’s sleep.”

   Tamsin glanced down at her work with bloodshot eyes and shook her head. “I can’t risk it. I can’t risk messing up. I have to do the best. I have to be the diamond.”