had a secret: she had applied to the University of Ithilia’s Academy of Sciences, Pelago’s most prestigious school. With Eneas’s help, she had procured an application, filled it out meticulously, and sent it off to be considered. It was the bravest thing she’d ever done, but she had mailed it two months ago and received no word yet. Eneas had set up a box at the post office in Olive Town, the Pelagan district of Old Port, so no letter would arrive at the house—Agnes would be in more trouble than she cared to consider if her father found out. But the truth was, she probably hadn’t been accepted. And even if she was, how was she supposed to get there, or find the money to pay for tuition? It was nearly impossible for a woman to do anything without a man’s consent in Kaolin. She would need her father’s permission to take out money from the bank, or book a ticket on a ship.
But she couldn’t relinquish her dreams, not yet, not when she had at least a modicum of freedom left to her. Once she was married, even that small flame of hope would be extinguished.
“Now let me present to you my son, Leo,” Xavier said. Leo’s smile was so ingratiating, Agnes thought she might vomit.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said.
“Oh my,” Mr. Kiernan gasped. “You look exactly like her.”
This observation never ceased to rankle Agnes or Leo, though for different reasons, but tonight he smiled and said, “Yes, sir, so I’ve been told.”
He must be up to something, to take the comment so easily—and he was wearing a tie that matched his eyes, a feature he never played up. But Agnes had no interest in her brother’s schemes at the moment.
“You knew my mother?” she asked Kiernan.
He cleared his throat. “Not personally, no.”
“But you know what she looked like?”
Kiernan seemed to regret the path this conversation was going down, and Agnes knew she was walking a fine line, but she could not stop herself.
“Everyone in Pelago knows the Byrne family. Their features are striking,” he said, gesturing to Leo as if to prove his point.
“Do you know my grandmother?” As soon as the words were out, Agnes knew she had gone too far.
The look Xavier gave her would have withered even the strongest of trees. Agnes felt herself shrink, and her face grew hot. Their mother’s family, the Byrne family, was off-limits. No one was allowed to bring them up. Not even Eneas would talk about them, and he had worked for them his whole life before moving here from Pelago with her mother. Agnes had sent letters to her grandmother, Ambrosine Byrne, every year, hoping for a response and never receiving one. To be honest, Agnes was not convinced the letters had actually been mailed at all. She had trusted Swansea to post them when she was younger, which had been foolish, and then, when she got older, went directly to the post office herself. But she suspected her father had a man in his pocket there. Eneas had flat-out refused when she’d asked him for help. She got the sense he was frightened of her grandmother, though he never said anything about her except that she was a “formidable and impressive woman.”
“We do not discuss the Byrne family in this house,” Xavier said, and Mr. Kiernan seemed all too eager to change the subject.
“You must be the daughter? Agnes, is that correct?”
“She is,” Xavier said.
Agnes made an awkward curtsy—she had never learned to do it right—and cursed herself internally. She should have asked Mr. Kiernan in private, where he might have been more forthcoming.
“And may I present Miss Elizabeth Conway of Old Port and her companion Miss Marianne Ellis, from Lady’s Point,” Xavier said. “Miss Ellis is visiting for the month.”
Marianne was eyeing Mr. Kiernan with great interest. Agnes didn’t see anything particularly attractive about the man, though she wasn’t the best judge. She liked the kohl around his eyes, though. And the seashell in his hair.
Brief pleasantries were exchanged, champagne was toasted, and then Swansea announced that dinner was served.
“Nice tie,” Agnes muttered to her brother as she took her seat beside him. “Are you trying to be Pelagan now?”
Xavier and Mr. Kiernan sat at the ends of the large mahogany table. Elizabeth and Marianne were across from the twins.
“Nice dress,” Leo shot back under his breath. “Are you trying to be an eighty-year-old widow?”
A cold vegetable soup was served