us deal with every day. Instead of asking me to leave or taking you outside, she pretends I’m not here.” She sniffed. “Demeine makes the people it doesn’t want invisible. Does that make sense?”
“I know what you mean.” I shook my head when she raised an eyebrow. “Not the same thing, not at all, but I know what you mean about Demeine making us invisible.”
She studied me for a moment and nodded. “Help those you can, but especially help one another.”
As Emilie des Marais, I had enough power to help without getting hanged, and I wanted to help Demeine.
“Thank you,” I said, gathering up my things. “For everything.”
After supper, I lay in bed, Coline’s sleeping mask across my eyes, and asked if she knew the story of the Deme duchesse.
“It’s my favorite,” Coline said, and I could hear her sneer. “They called her the Dishonorable Duchesse, and she said her people were worth far more than her honor. Her direct line ended when Henry du Rand overthrew the last queen and tore the names of every family who stood against him from the history books. I wish I knew her name. I think Laurence du Montimer’s family is distantly related to her, though.”
She broke no rules, only a noble’s pride, and kept her estate.
“Are you visiting the kitchens tonight?” Coline laughed and smiled in that breathy way that meant nothing funny was happening. “For sustenance.”
“I usually eat toast,” I said, confused. “Why? You want some?”
Coline closed her eyes and shook her head.
The door creaked open. I lifted the mask, spying Isabelle peeking around the door. She blushed when she saw me.
“I embarrassed you, did I?” I asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t, you see, I—” She sighed and shut the door behind her. “She asked me what was wrong, and I couldn’t lie, so I told her I was still a little upset about class. You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
I shook my head. She collapsed onto my bed next to me.
“I feel stuck,” she said. “I want to do something. I know you’re still having trouble with the silver room—”
“That’s putting it kindly,” Coline muttered.
“—you don’t know the meaning of the word,” Isabelle said quickly, eyes rolling to glare at Coline before she turned back to me. “But even though you’re having trouble, I know you can see things. I mean, I know you can scry.”
“That’s sort of the point.” I pulled one hand free and tucked a blanket over Isabelle’s hands. “I can’t stop seeing things.”
“But they’re clearer than what I’m seeing,” she said. “I need to scry my brother.”
“That’s against the rules.” Coline lunged across my lap and bed, ripping the blankets off with her—she only ever managed to mess up my bed—and grabbed Isabelle by the shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.”
Isabelle swallowed. Even when faced with Coline, she managed to keep her emotions hidden. “I don’t care.”
Mostly hidden.
“I love a good nighttime sneak about,” Coline said and rolled off the bed. She started riffling through my wardrobe. “We’ll wear socks—they’re quieter—and I’ll keep watch. If this were illusions or some foray into the noonday arts, I would join you, but this will keep me out of the way.”
“Least we found a way to do that,” I told Isabelle. “Why do you want to scry him?”
“He’s a hack for a chevalier, and he hasn’t written me in a while.” She shifted. “And if you could divine him, I would appreciate that too.”
When Isabelle was thinking, she chewed on the dry skin around her nails, and Vivienne, no matter how many creams and oils she provided, had not been able to break Isabelle of the habit. I pulled her hands out from under the blanket. Red lined the cracks around each nail.
“I can’t divine,” I told her, hands still clasping hers. “But I’ll try to scry him. Just promise me if I ever say something embarrassing again, you’ll come to me instead of talking to Vivienne.”
Isabelle threw her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Excellent,” Coline said, throwing open the door. “Let’s go.”
We crept downstairs and stole a bowl from the silver room, sneaking into one of the private study rooms with a skylight. I sat on the floor, back to the wall and moonlight streaming in from the windows behind and above me, and Isabelle sat next to me. It was a crescent night. Vivienne wasn’t holding lessons in the midnight arts tonight because Estrel was here, and Estrel insisted on teaching during the day when we were