This gave Dora a distant sense of shame for some reason. Just now, in perfect privacy with the Lord Sorcier, she thought she might understand how he had come to be the way that he was. That shame slowly morphed into a dull sadness, which she thought she might examine more deeply at a later date.
Elias cleared his throat, and Dora returned her attention to him directly. “I have a theory on your condition, Miss Ettings,” he told her, by way of changing the subject.
Dora blinked. A hint of something unfamiliar swam through her chest. It wasn’t... happiness, per se. It was lighter than most emotions, however, and she decided that it might be some flavour of hope. “I am very pleased to hear it,” she told him. Then, because she was sure that her voice had not communicated her feelings on the matter clearly enough, she added: “Truly. I fear my abilities of expression are not adequate to the task of thanking you properly.”
Elias smiled at that. For once, it was not a bitter or sardonic smile. It was soft, and perhaps relieved. The expression utterly changed his mien, and Dora thought in that moment that he was really very beautiful. “You may not be so grateful when I tell you my theory,” Elias said. “For I am still working out exactly what to do about it.”
“Nevertheless,” Dora said. “To have a theory at all is more than I ever expected.”
Elias nodded slowly. “Well,” he said. “As strange as it may sound, I believe that part of you is in faerie, Miss Ettings. Whichever part of you the faerie stole, he took it back with him to his lands on the other side. That missing part of you must still endure there, for you are unerringly capable of divination when given the proper instrument. I might even go so far as to say you could see such things in a normal mirror, if you strained yourself.”
Dora considered this. “Then I would need to steal that part of myself back from him?” she asked. “That is your concern—that I would need to walk into faerie.”
Elias shook his head at her incredulously. “You will not be walking into faerie, Miss Ettings,” he said. “What a ridiculous idea. If anything, I would be walking into faerie.” He frowned deeply at that, then added: “But since I avoid the place at all costs, we shall name that only as a last, most desperate resort.”
“I could not ask you to do something so dangerous, my lord,” Dora agreed. “I would not even think of it, in fact.”
Elias raised an eyebrow at Dora. “I insist on my lord only when I am intent on bullying someone,” he told her. “You may call me Elias, at least in private. It’s shorter, and it doesn’t make my stomach churn.”
Dora knew that she ought to be flustered at this. Whatever the Lord Sorcier thought, the use of Christian names between men and women was a scandal in and of itself. But the embarrassment she should have felt was absent, and she saw no reason to deny his request if it might keep him feeling charitable towards her.
“As you wish, er... Elias.” Dora had to force herself to say the name aloud. This time, there was a flicker of embarrassment, but it was quickly gone again. “I suppose that you should call me Dora then, out of simple fairness.”
“Hm.” Elias considered this. “Dora. That’s a nice, straightforward name. I assume the more lengthy version is bizarre and unwieldy?”
Dora sighed. He was so much more pleasant for a time, she thought. “My full name is Theodora Eloisa—”
“Oh, dear lord, don’t tell it all to me now!” Elias snapped. At Dora’s confused look, he added: “You should never tell your full name to a magician. Nor to a faerie, for that matter. It gives them power over you.”
Dora pursed her lips. “In truth,” she told him, “I am already far too deep within your power for it to matter. You know the secret that could ruin my family, and you are the best chance I have at any sort of cure. A name is a small thing, compared to those.”
Elias frowned at that, clearly unable to find a logical reply. “I suppose you’re correct,” he said finally. “But I don’t wish to own your name, Miss Ettings.”
A smile flickered across her lips. “You are supposed to call me Dora,” she reminded Elias.
This did fluster him, but only because she had caught him out on his own request. “Yes, fine,” Elias muttered. “Dora.”
Her smile settled in more deeply at that. “Might I ask, Elias, if you know exactly what it is the Marquess of Hollowvale stole from me?”
Elias raised an eyebrow at the name, but he did not comment on it directly. “I have my suspicions,” he said. “But they are difficult to prove, one way or another.”
Dora nodded. “Then perhaps you could tell me what it is that you suspect?” she offered.
Elias rubbed at his chin. “I suspect that the faerie has stolen much more than just your humours,” he said. “It is possible that he has taken half of your entire soul.” He paused. “Likely, the faerie meant to take the whole thing, but you told me that he was distracted from the task. I have heard of faeries stealing souls before—though that is before my time—but I think that a faerie stealing only half a soul must be without precedent. If I am correct, then your case is probably the first.”
Dora sighed. “Oh dear,” she said. “That must mean that it will be difficult to solve.”
“Almost certainly,”
