“I have no particular wish to insult Albert or his family,” Elias said dryly. “However much he may try my patience, at times. I will admit, I thought for a moment about treading on your toes, but I have decided against it.”
“How gentlemanly of you,” Dora said. His eyes narrowed, and she smiled absently. “Ah yes, you hate being called a gentleman. Since you have spared my toes, I will refrain from saying it again. It seems only fair.”
Elias made a soft hm. “I despise parties,” he said. “But I understand the concept of armistice. I doubt I shall send you away weeping in any case, no matter how outrageously I try. Let us speak of something marginally interesting, then.”
Dora nodded to herself. “I have just the thing,” she said. “Our conversation was interrupted before, at the shop. I was about to tell you what I saw in the mirror. As it happens, I saw us both exactly as we are now, in our evening best. But I think that I was covered in blood, and that seems to me to be a sort of bad omen, at best.”
Elias missed a step, and Dora blinked. He turned towards her with wide eyes. “And you’ve only just now thought to bring up this little detail?” he demanded. “So calmly, too? Are you attempting to play a joke on me, Miss Ettings?”
Dora winced. I should have sounded more distressed, she thought. The image in the mirror did trouble her. In fact, it set within her a certain awful, creeping dread. But it seemed that Dora was incapable of expressing that dread in a believable fashion. “I am distressed,” she assured Elias. “But I am doing my best to stay calm. I assume by your reaction that I should indeed be worried?”
“That mirror is a scrying tool,” Elias told her. “It shows all manner of things, if you are in the right frame of mind. Had you told me that day of what you’d seen, I would have advised you that it could be either something of worry, or nothing at all. But since the greater part of your vision has now come to pass, it is more likely than not that you caught a glimpse of the future.”
Dora knitted her brow. “Yes,” she said. “That is very distressing. I don’t suppose you know of any way to avoid such a future?”
“Divination is a very imprecise art,” Elias said with a scowl. “But it would be remiss of me not to try, obviously. Do you know where it was that you were injured?”
Dora lifted her hand to her chest, just where the ugly stain had been, and his scowl deepened. That is not a good sign, she thought.
The song ended, and Elias began to head off the floor, clutching her arm tightly. Someone tapped on Dora’s shoulder though, and she turned to see Albert standing behind them.
“It’s only fair that I should rescue you from Elias for a moment,” Albert told her. “May I have the next dance, Miss Ettings?”
Dora opened her mouth to respond—but Elias cut her off. “You may not,” he told Albert curtly. “I need to go discuss matters with the lady.”
Albert shot him a surprised look. “I see,” he said. “But in that case, you’re best-served staying on the dance floor, Elias. She’ll otherwise be obliged to dance with any other man who asks.”
A dim, distant horror flickered at the back of Dora’s mind. Two dances with the same woman shows interest, she thought. People will expect the Lord Sorcier to come calling on me. “Oh,” Dora said, but the words came out far milder than she intended. “No, I don’t think—”
“Fine,” Elias snapped, ignoring her. He turned back towards the dance floor. “What silly little rules,” he muttered to himself. “Obliged to dance, really?”
“This is a very bad idea,” Dora informed him. But there was a spark in his manner now, and it occurred to her that the hint of something more magical, mysterious, and dangerous must have appealed to the Lord Sorcier’s sensibilities far more than a normal society ball.
“Nonsense,” Elias said. “You’re unlikely to find anyone else at this party more suited to solving your impending doom, Miss Ettings. Now, can you remember anything else from the image in the mirror? Any little detail at all?”
“I was distracted by the man who came up behind me, I’m afraid,” Dora said. “That was you, by the way. Just so I’m clear.”
The Lord Sorcier’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Well, what sort of dangers might one run into at a party like this?” he speculated. “There are knives about, I suppose. Duels sometimes happen, once people get far enough into their cups. Is there anyone who dislikes you enough to harm you so gravely, Miss Ettings?”
Dora shook her head at him. “Not that I know of,” she said. “Though…”
Elias leaned forward. “Though?” he prompted her.
Dora pondered the matter of her longstanding curse. It did not seem wise to bring that up with the Lord Sorcier, but her first instinct had earlier been that this must have something to do with Lord Hollowvale, and it was probably even less wise to ignore that possibility. “There is a man back in Lockheed who wishes me ill,” she told him. “I have a pair of scissors with me, which he fears. But those scissors might also be used against me, I suppose.”
Elias blinked at her. “I will admit,” he said. “You are proving to be far more interesting than I first assumed, Miss Ettings.” Dora walked herself past him, as the dance’s steps dictated, and caught sight of Vanessa nearby, staring at her curiously. Dora’s cousin was holding what looked like a glass of deep red punch. “Retire from dancing for the evening and stay close. If anyone asks, you may tell them I have mauled your toes—”
“No,”
