“You couldn’t have informed us before now? We’ve only been asking since we brought you here,” Lore said.
“The Dusk Star left her in Cosian. I did not know where in that city, as I remained on the airship. I did not know if the child got to keep her name, but I believe she did.” Blaine swallowed, only dimly recalling the weight of an infant in his arms. “Caris Dhemlan is the daughter of Baroness Portia Dhemlan. They’re in Amari for the debutante ball tomorrow evening. Caris audited my engineering class this afternoon.”
“She kept her name,” Meleri said after a moment, voice tight with an old grief, though she shed no tears.
Blaine nodded jerkily. “I heard her name spoken as my class was leaving. I followed her and her mother to the center common, because I had to be sure. Nathaniel Clementine was escorting them back to their motor carriage when they witnessed debt collectors bringing someone into custody. None of them seemed pleased about that.”
Brielle pursed her lips. “Nathaniel wouldn’t. Neither would the girl’s mother.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s a cog,” Meleri said. “As are his parents. Very integral cogs, I might add, as they allow the Clockwork Brigade to use their trains to transport freed debt slaves out of Daijal whenever possible. His parents work with cogs connected to the Marshall.”
Blaine stared at her. “Should you be telling me this? He’s not linked to me.”
Cogs were linked to select other people through limited chains of communication. Only some linked to those who could be considered levers in the machine of the rebellion. Connections were vital to make it run, but the Clockwork Brigade was set up so that if one cog was discovered and broken, they wouldn’t be able to implicate more than those in their immediate group and risk a cascade effect.
By virtue of who he was and the knowledge he carried, Blaine’s group consisted of everyone in this study.
“He’s been having tea with you when available and audits your classes. We anticipated making him known to you officially this summer,” Lore said tartly.
“The Dhemlans were given a title and had their names included in the nobility genealogies slightly less than two decades ago. They’re landless, with no heredity seat in the House of Lords, but they’re quite wealthy through ownership of critical water purification and filtration patents. They have a daughter, their only heir, who would be sixteen. They also joined the Clockwork Brigade a decade ago. Their daughter has not,” Brielle said.
Blaine always found it fascinating how Brielle seemed to have the genealogy of every noble and most of the more wealthy merchants memorized. It was useful in moments like this.
“Caris,” Meleri said, testing out the name. “Caris Dhemlan. You are certain she is the same child? The name Caris isn’t unheard of.”
“Her eyes haven’t changed,” Blaine said, thinking of the fierce intelligence in Caris’ gray-eyed gaze now and the color they’d been when she was an infant crying in his arms as he fled the palace before the potion kicked in to make her sleep.
“Did she carry a wand?”
“No.”
Some kind of disappointment filled Meleri’s gaze before fading. “Eimarille carries no wand, but she can cast starfire. Perhaps it is the same for Caris.”
That was the crux, Blaine knew. One could be of Rourke blood, but one needed magic to command the starfire burning on the throne, to put it out and claim a crown. Without such power, they’d have a queen, but not one who could stand for long against what Eimarille represented.
“You say she audited your class?” Dureau asked.
Blaine nodded. “Her mother found her after it ended, which is how I learned her name. Apparently, she sneaked away from her minders, and the baroness wasn’t pleased. Nathaniel said she was interested in engineering.”
“Perhaps she means to attend the Aether School of Engineering.” Meleri hummed to herself, eyes narrowing. “If she is to be presented at the debutante ball, then we must attend as well.”
“I’ll inform the organizers we will be attending,” Brielle said.
She swept out of the study, presumably to go do just that. It reminded him of the way Honovi simply expected to be included by virtue of his rank asjarl. It was an arrogance Blaine knew better than to question, not when it got them what they wanted.
“I don’t need to attend, do I?” Blaine asked.
Lore gave him a slightly pitying look. “The name you carry here is not of the nobility.”
“You gave it to me.”
“Yes, because you refused the one that rightfully belongs to you. If you ever claim it again, then high society will be open to you.”
Blaine had every intention of returning to E’ridia, but now that Caris was known to him—was real, after so many years of just existing in memory—he knew he would have to reassess his resolve. He’d made a promise, after all, to both his father and the Dusk Star, to protect her.
He’d made a promise to his husband, too, and at some point, Blaine would have to reconcile the two roads.
