her, and she wondered how much of a scandal she'd cause, showing off her figure so brazenly at an exalted party. 'Maybe I should wear something that… covers more.'
'Covers more? You're an icarus!' Jayce reached forward to tease curls of her hair down around her face. 'Freedom defines the icarus caste. You don't want to wear the same dowdy fashions the cardinal or plebeian castes would wear. And if there's one thing exalteds aren't, it's free. Besides, you're too small to carry off their heavy robes.' He regarded her with satisfaction. 'This sets a new standard for icarus fashion. I'm a genius.'
'You're a genius, kid,' Cassi agreed, hugging her nephew and ruffling his hair. 'Now come on; let's see if Taya's coach is here.'
Estate Octavus stood on the highest street in Primus sector, surrounded by other exalteds’ mansions. The street's cobbles were flat and smooth, laid together like pieces of a puzzle, and the gas lamps were small masterpieces of ironwork that stood every twenty feet to keep the neighborhood bright. Taya had visited the street before, but only to deliver messages. The mansions’ peaked, slate-tiled roofs and forbidding iron gates looked more much imposing when she approached them at ground level.
Carriages blocked the road, and everywhere she looked, masked and robed exalts were flowing into the estate, followed by liveried servants.
Peering out the window of Gregor's coach, Taya touched her lips, worried. Was she going to be mistaken for a servant, showing up at the party without a mask? Then she pulled her fingers away before she could disturb all the work Cassi had done. To give her hands something to do, she stroked the soft velvet cloak Jayce had let her borrow for the night.
Lady, what am I doing here?
She twitched the window curtain back even farther, impressed by the sight of ivory and gold masks glittering in the lamplight, of silk and silver hems sliding over spotless streets. Long embroidered sleeves hung well over the exalteds’ fingertips, and only their long glossy hair, caught up around their heads in complicated braids and loops, revealed that the creatures beneath the masks might be human.
'Ostentatious incapacitation,' Pyke had called exalteds’ garments. Baroque, mouthless masks to prove they didn't need to give orders. Heavy, movement-inhibiting garments to prove they didn't need to run or carry. Everything an exalted might need to say or do in public was anticipated by their perfectly trained lower-caste servants. And if it wasn't, there was nothing the exalted could do about it without outraging tradition.
The way Viera Octavus had briefly outraged it, when she'd abandoned her mask and robe to lift her child to safety.
Despite Pyke's scorn for the exalteds, Taya thought the sight of so many masked and robed aristocrats was eerie and majestic. Very few people were privileged to see behind the masks, which gave exalteds an air of mystique that the nobility of other countries lacked. Maybe that's why other countries had so many revolutions. People there took their rulers for granted. Exalteds, by contrast, stood apart from the rest of humanity by virtue of their birth and their rules of conduct.
A footman approached her coach and spoke to Gregor, then tapped on the door.
'Taya Icarus?'
She drew in a deep breath.
'I'm here,' she replied, as he opened the door. The cold autumn air made her pull her cloak close around her.
The footman blinked once, startled by her uninked face, and then bowed.
'May I escort you to the door? Lady Octavus told us to bring you in as soon as you arrived.'
'Thank you.' She took his hand and let him help her out of the coach, grateful for his assistance. Sitting and standing in a tight dress wasn't a maneuver she'd ever needed to practice before.
'Good luck, icarus,' Gregor called out. 'The man there says your transportation home's been taken care of already.'
She turned and waved.
'Thank you, Gregor.'
He gave her a cheery salute.
Heads turned as they walked through the street and entered the estate gates. Taya shivered under her cloak, feeling naked compared to all the covered guests around her.
Well, there's no turning back now
, she thought, squaring her shoulders.
If nothing else, this dress will confirm the fast-and-loose reputation of icarii everywhere
.
The doors were wide open and the foyer was lit by a thousand wax candles placed on high shelves and chandeliers, well above the long sleeves and dragging hems of the exalteds’ heavy robes. Gold-framed mirrors reflected the light and the guests in an endless regression that made Taya dizzy. She swallowed as jeweled, featureless masks turned to watch her.
The footman led her through the foyer to the inner doors.
'May I take your cloak?' he asked. She glanced around and saw that here, safely away from the street, exalteds were shedding their public robes and pulling off their ivory masks, laughing and greeting each other like normal people.
'Of course.' She pulled off the velvet cloak that had seemed so luxurious in Jayce's shop but now struck her as thin and tawdry compared to the exalteds’ garments.
It doesn't matter
, she reminded herself.
Nobody expects me to dress like an exalted.
I hope.
Heads turned as the footman took it and revealed her bare upper arms and daring decolletage.
Bracing herself, Taya stepped inside the reception room, composing herself just as she would if she were on duty. Strangers turned to stare at her. For a moment she froze, wondering what to do.
A woman broke away from the crowd, and Taya recognized her hostess, Viera Octavus.
'Taya Icarus,' she said, her strong voice carrying through the chamber. 'We are honored that you have come.'
Light applause greeted her words. Taya kept her gaze fixed on the woman as she walked across the ballroom floor. They met in the center of the ballroom and Viera grasped her hands, leaning forward to rest one blue-tattooed cheek against hers.
'Thank you,' the exalted said, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. 'Don't look so nervous.'
Taya gave the exalted a crooked smile as they separated. Was it that obvious? Viera slid an arm through hers, leading her back to her husband, a tall, patrician man with silver hair and a lined face. Taya compared him to his wife. The decatur had married a much younger woman.
'Caster,' Viera said, 'this is Taya Icarus.'
The elderly decatur smiled at her. Taya bowed, touching her gloved palm to her forehead.
'I am pleased to meet you, Taya.' When she straightened, Caster took her hand and held it a moment. 'I cannot thank you enough for saving the two most important people in my life.'
This time Taya didn't start, and she was glad Alister had accustomed her to being touched by the upper- caste.
'I was just—' she remembered the fictional interview in
The Watchmen and deliberately chose different words. 'It was my pleasure, exalted.'
