After dinner, I complained of a headache and retired to my room. It was about the only reason I could have to be alone, and even that wasn’t easy. As soon as I’d shooed my doting maids away, I changed out of the fine silk dress I’d worn for dinner and put on Ada’s simpler linen one—which gave me some difficulty. I usually had maids helping me in and out of my clothes and wasn’t accustomed to managing buttons without extra hands. Ada’s dress was dark blue in color, with no ornamentation. The white chemise I put on under it was equally plain. I’d never truly noted until then how drab my ladies’ clothing really was. Still, it would help conceal me, as did the gray hooded cloak I wore over it. I packed the rest of her clothing into a small satchel and then hurried down a narrow servants’ staircase little used this time of night. After ascertaining no one was around, I slipped out a back door.

That put me in the courtyard by our stables, which were now darkened with twilight’s shadows. Servants bustled about here, winding things down for the night, and no one noticed me as I huddled in the darkness. This was the most dangerous part of this endeavor, the part where it could all fall apart if anyone got a good look at me. I had to walk across the courtyard, toward the stable’s back gates. The spring weather had cooled considerably, and I wasn’t the only one with a hood. I just prayed no one would take a look at my face as I walked.

The stable boy guarding the back gate was busy whittling, his attention turned to anyone trying to get in, not out. If he noticed me, he saw only the back of one of the servant girls who came and went about the household’s tasks. Once I was out of the enclosure, I hurried around the corner of our home, out toward the busy thoroughfare of our front street. Traffic on it had slowed since earlier in the day, but there were still horses and pedestrians out for the evening, their steps clattering on the cobblestone street. Most didn’t give me a second glance. I was a lady’s maid, not a lady.

An errant priest of Uros stood on a corner, preaching against the Alanzan heretics. He pointed accusingly at me, his finger right up in my face. “You wouldn’t worship the sun and moon, would you, girl?”

There was a fanatic, feverish gleam in his eyes, and I was so astonished that I froze before him.

“You! Stay right there!”

I gasped as two city sentries came running toward me. I was barely across the street from my home! How had they known to come for me already?

But it wasn’t me they were after. They seized the priest, one holding the thrashing man while the other bound his wrists. “How dare you lay hands on one of Uros’s chosen!” bellowed the priest.

One of the sentries snorted. “You’re no true follower of Uros. See how strong your faith is after a few nights in prison.” He dragged the shrieking priest away while the other sentry turned to me. I quickly looked down, feigning shyness, so he wouldn’t see my face.

“You all right, miss? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Thank you. Sir.”

He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what the world’s coming to when heretics walk the street. You’d best get back to your master’s house before it gets darker.”

I bobbed my head and quickly walked away. The religious atmosphere was dangerous in Osfrid these days. These radical wandering priests might claim to worship the one god Uros, but their practices challenged the established church almost as much as the Alanzans and their fallen angels. The orthodox priests and officials were no longer as tolerant as they’d once been, and it took very little to make you suspect.

It was a relief when I reached the Glittering Court’s carriage. It was two blocks away in the opposite direction, exactly as Cedric had told Ada it would be.

It was all black, sleek and shiny, with the Glittering Court’s seal on the outside: a circle of golden chain with little jewels interspersed between the links. The carriage was of modest size, not nearly as grand as the one my grandmother or I rode in, but I supposed it would be extraordinary to a girl who knew no different. I walked around to the front where a driver sat waiting over four white horses. I called a greeting to him, loud enough to make my voice heard over the noise from the street but hopefully not enough to attract the attention of the great house on the other side of it.

“Hey,” I called. “You’re here to pick me up. My name is Adelaide.”

I’d decided on that when I concocted this plan. I’d made Ada disappear and received her promise that she wouldn’t mention any of this, but as far as the Glittering Court officials knew, they had the right girl. Calling myself Ada didn’t seem right. What I was doing already felt like theft, but I certainly couldn’t go by my own name anymore. So, I’d use the beautiful name Ada had been given at birth, the one she had trouble spelling. I felt like I deserved it, just as I deserved this opportunity that terrified her.

The driver gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well, hop in. We’re meeting Master Jasper and Master Cedric along the way.”

Master Cedric.

As much as I’d enjoyed looking at him, seeing him now could most certainly create a problem in this brilliant plan I’d created . . . but I’d have to deal with that later. For now, I had other issues.

“Hop in?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “Aren’t you going to come down and open the door for me?”

The man gave an amused snort. “Listen to you, acting like a lady already. You aren’t a ‘jewel’ yet, missy. Now get in—we’ve got two more stops to make, and one’s by the Sirminican district. I don’t want to be out there any later than I have to. Those Sirminicans will rob you blind if you’re not watching ’em.”

I fumbled with the coach’s handle and finally figured out how to open it. Ungracefully, I half-stepped, half-tumbled into the carriage’s interior, without the benefit of a stool or pillow offered by a servant. Inside, the carriage was dim, lit only by what light made its way in through the smoky windows. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that the cushioned seat I sat on was made of a burgundy velvet of middling quality.

Without bothering to make sure I was comfortable, the driver set the horses on their way, causing me to jerk forward. I gripped the walls for support, staring out the darkened glass as the lights of my family’s home moved farther and farther away. I held my breath as I watched the retreating house, expecting a group of servants to come tearing out at any moment, swarming the carriage until it stopped and released me. No one came, though. The house went about its nighttime duties, soon vanishing into the night. Or maybe I was the one vanishing. Maybe I would be forgotten quickly, my face and voice gone from the minds of those I’d once known. The notion made me sadder than I’d expected, and I had to shift my focus back to the plan.

Presuming no one thought to check on my headache tonight, I’d have until morning before my absence was discovered, at which point I’d hopefully be long gone into the country. And that was assuming, of course, that Ada didn’t get cold feet and come back—if she’d even left the city. If things were on track, she’d have already bought passage with some group of travelers heading north.

There were a lot of “if”s in this plan, a lot of things that could go wrong.

The rocking carriage made its way through the city, into parts I’d never seen before. I was terribly curious about it all, but as the evening deepened, I could see less and less by the glow of the gas lamps used to illuminate the streets. The carriage finally came to a halt, and I heard a muffled conversation. Moments later, the door opened, and a girl my age stood framed in the doorway, her fiery red hair shining even in the twilight. She shot me a calculating look and then, like me, climbed in without benefit of a stool. Only she managed it better. She shut the door, and the carriage continued on its jerky ride.