“Miss Anna?” Lady Berri opened the door.
I rubbed my forehead, which was beginning to throb. My life wanted only this: conducting social calls in my bedchamber when I was supposed to be convalescing. I wished I was back at Eszterháza, amid the familiarity of my own things.
Lady Berri dragged a chair to my bedside and plopped down, a sigh escaping her as she settled. “I have just come from Vienna. You have certainly managed to set a cat among the pigeons, my dear. As soon as word came you had broken the spell at Sárvár…Well. I am sure you can guess at the reaction. The Circle is up in arms, fretting you might break the Binding.”
She shook her head at me. “Did not your Papa tell you I was coming? We could have avoided all this fuss if you had simply waited.”
I flushed. My brave act of defiance seemed foolish in hindsight. “Then why come now, when the spell is already broken?”
Lady Berri fidgeted, her plump hands patting her lap as if she were looking for something. “Do you suppose they serve tea in this abysmal hostelry?” She sighed. “It’s clear, child, that you have a knack for breaking spells, though the Binding Saints alone know why. I want you to break the Binding.”
“Why?” I was not as surprised as I might have been: Papa’s letter had prepared me.
“Because I am a pragmatist. Perhaps you know that Luminate magic is growing weaker. The Binding spell does not hold so much magic as it once did. I believe we weaken it further when we bind it solely to Luminate bloodlines. We need a new infusion of magic, one we can get only if the Binding is broken and magic returned to our world.”
I noticed that she made no mention of fairness, as Papa had done.
“Sárvár is the first spell I have broken after its casting; every other spell has been broken during the casting. You can’t even be sure I can duplicate this, not with a much larger spell.”
“I shall help you.”
The door opened again. It was Ginny, bearing a tray with two teacups and a plate of diós kifli, a crescent-shaped walnut pastry. I accepted the tea gratefully. Ginny grinned at me before dropping a curtsy to Lady Berri and slipping out again.
“Even presuming I can do what you want—why should I? Why should I upset a system that has been in place for a millennium?” No matter what Papa had written, I was not certain I trusted her.
“Your papa wishes it.”
“I love my papa very much, but his wishes do not always dictate my actions.”
Lady Berri’s fluttering hands stilled. “Because I know what you crave: a place in society. Oh, don’t look so disbelieving. I was once a girl much like you. I wanted to shine in society, but like you, I lacked something. Only in my case it was not magic and a certain want of manners, but beauty.”
The teacup in my hand trembled. I set it carefully in its saucer on my bedside table.
Lady Berri continued. “I found my way, with a little help from a generous mentor, and here I am now. A patroness of the arts, a member of the English Circle, the head of the Lucifera order. And I wish to help you. I think with sufficient patronage a place can be found for you in Luminate society. I can introduce you to the right people. Find you a wealthy husband, if that is what you wish.”
“Another Lord Markson Worthing?” I asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lady Berri did not know me nearly as well as she believed.
“If you like.”
“But if I do as you ask—will there be any society to introduce me to?”
She laughed. “You place too much weight on a spell. Do you think society will remake itself so quickly?”
I swallowed the sourness in my throat and took a rather fierce bite of the sweet pastry, the flaky crust melting against my tongue. My pulse pounded in my temples. “May I think it over? You ask a great deal.”
“Of course, child. Rest now, and give me your answer when you are ready.” She smiled brightly. “Your grandmama has invited me to stay for some time. So I shall see the famous Eszterházy estate, and then travel with you to Buda-Pest at summer’s end, where I have some business. It all sounds quite delightful, do you not think?”
Delightful was not precisely the word I would have chosen. As Lady Berri finally waddled from the room, the headache that had been circling as she spoke settled in my skull. My thoughts spun in time with the pounding in my head. Lady Berri promised me everything I had ever wanted. Her arguments were compelling, and Papa sided with her.
All I had to do was break the spell I had been taught to honor since childhood, the spell that made my entire world possible.
I woke from a nap to find Herr Steinberg sitting nearby, scrutinizing me, worry drawing deep lines between his eyes and around his thin lips. His glasses flashed at me in the long afternoon light.
I sat up, clutching the bedclothes to me, alarmed to find we were alone. Not that I believed the good Herr had any designs on my virtue, only somehow his mild demeanor seemed changed—charged with tension. The hairs on my arms lifted.
“What are you?” he asked.
“I beg your pardon?” My headache had not entirely vanished, and my skull began to throb, my scalp drawn tight against it.
“There were wards set at Sárvár that ought to have kept you out. Yet you walked through the wards as though they were cobwebs, then broke a spell that has been vexing the Circle for centuries.” Herr Steinberg stood and began pacing, his hands clasped behind his back. “The most powerful Luminates of a dozen generations have thrown their energies at that spell and failed. Yet you broke it easily, without any demonstrable spells or rites. How?”
I wished I knew. What are you? His question rattled around my skull.
Herr Steinberg stopped pacing to look at me, his eyes sad behind his spectacles. “When you broke that spell, did you see anything?”
He had asked me this once before, about the Lorelei maiden. Monsters crowded my thoughts: an inhumanly beautiful face with lips like brands, a spider-woman with a third eye open. I gripped my covers, sure now his question was no accident. “Why are you asking me this? What business is it of yours?”
He breathed out through his nose, clearly attempting to remain calm. “It is my business because I belong to the Austrian Circle. I took an oath to protect the Binding, and I have been tasked with watching you—a task I clearly failed, as you were allowed to steal away to Sárvár.”
I froze. “But you were our majordomo from England. You arranged the details of our trip. I thought—”
“You thought what you were meant to think. That I was nothing more. But Lord Orwell suspected you might be trouble. When you disappeared from London, he sent word to Vienna, and I was selected to deal with you. It was no great difficulty to track you—one of my gifts, if you must know—and pay off the man intended for your escort.”
“You have been watching me this whole time.” Had he seen my meetings with Gábor? My veins ran ice.
“Not, it appears, closely enough. Now I will ask you again: what did you see?”