Into the Tiger's Den

So what was I supposed to do about it?

You couldn't catch a tiger without leaping into its den.

"Why? Afraid I'll be raped? Or that I'll end up dead? Like my sister?"

"It's something that could happen."

"Don't pretend to worry about me. I'll protect my own body."

I glared at him as I snapped the words, and Lyft's gaze turned even fiercer. He snatched my wrist and growled.

"If you're that confident, then by all means—let's see you protect it."

Before I could even demand to know what he thought he was doing, my body toppled backward. The green ceiling swam in the flickering lamplight. And Lyft's face, drawing closer.

I turned my head on instinct, twisting my mouth away from his, and he buried his face in my neck instead.

"What are you— Get off me!"

I shouted, shoving at his shoulder with my free hand, but he didn't budge an inch. Instead he seized my remaining wrist as well. The sound of his breathing in my ear, the alien press of his mouth against my throat—goosebumps raced across my skin.

I twisted, trying to wriggle free, but Lyft's weight pinning me down had trapped me in the bedding.

"Let go! I said let go!"

Thrashing did nothing. I managed to wrench my right hand free and yanked at his hair, but he paid it no mind at all, untying the ribbon of my nightdress. I couldn't stop him as he pressed his mouth to my bared shoulder as if he meant to bite.

Was he actually going to rape me?

Rage blanked my mind white. I raked my nails toward his face—toward his eyes, specifically. I fully intended to gouge them out if he didn't stop, but Lyft subdued my arm with insulting ease.

Only then did he lift his head.

His amber eyes, flashing with something dangerous, met mine—and then they shook. Both my hands were pinned above me as if I'd raised them in surrender. All I could do was glare.

Nothing but our ragged breathing filled the silence, until Lyft slowly released my wrists.

The instant my hands were free, I shoved him off and scrambled out of the bed. Then I struck his cheek with everything I had, as he sat there awkwardly on the mattress. Whether he hadn't meant to dodge or simply couldn't, the crack of it was sharp and loud.

"I'm sorry. I went too far."

Lyft apologized with his head still turned from the blow. The fury hadn't faded. I raised my hand to hit him again—then, seeing him offer his face without resistance, I clenched my fist and lowered my arm.

He'd gone too far, just as he'd said. But this had been a warning. A warning of what I might suffer if I went along with Viscount Cecilia. I had been naive enough to think that even a woman from an obscure country barony was still a noble lady—that surely no one would dare rape me. This was a warning aimed squarely at that complacency, and it had landed perfectly.

Goosebumps rose over my entire body, for an entirely different reason than before.

Lyft reached toward me as I stood frozen, then withdrew his hand before it could touch me. When he spoke, his voice was threaded with a sigh.

"We'll talk again tomorrow."

I stayed motionless in the room for a long while after he left, then went to the sofa and curled up on it. Thoughts stretched on, as tedious and endless as the night itself.

The next day came, but Lyft—who'd said we would talk tomorrow—never appeared.

I ate breakfast and slept through the morning. I got up at lunchtime and ate. Keeping my meals wouldn't change anything, but I wasn't about to grow any weaker.

In the afternoon, I summoned Noel. On the off chance, I asked him about the 27th Street Club. He answered without the slightest hesitation.

"You mean the social club His Highness the Prince belongs to?"

"Wasn't it a secret that the Prince is the head of the 27th Street Club?"

"A secret, technically. But there's hardly a soul in Caliwood society who doesn't know."

"Can you tell me who else belongs to it?"

"Of course. I could even draw you up a chart, if you'd like."

"Then I'd like that."

"Pardon? You actually want me to make a chart?"

Whether he'd been joking or not, Noel asked with a startled look. I nodded. I had already bluffed that Dorothy had told me everything in her letters, so I figured I ought to at least know the members' names. A chart I could take in at a glance would make them easier to memorize.

Once Noel realized I was serious, he promptly fetched a large sheet of paper and began writing down the nobles' names with practiced ease. The 27th Street Club, he explained, was composed of members in three ranks.

The Hensington dukedom, a house so powerful it was said to strike birds from the sky, and the Illimond dukedom, one of the empire's founding houses. Confirming that these were illustrious names I had at least heard of once or twice, I felt a flicker of intimidation.

Perhaps the empire's aristocracy was already rotten beyond any hope of salvage. Then again, when the Prince himself was a serial killer, it was probably too late to turn back anyway.

I shook my head, set the chart down, and spoke to Noel again.

"Noel, could you get me a pistol?"

"A pistol? You mean a gun, my lady?"

"Yes. I'll need powder and shot as well."

When I made the request in earnest, Noel stared at me with his mouth hanging open. He swallowed hard, then lowered his voice even though no one else was listening.

"What... what are you planning to do with it?"

"Does a pistol have any other purpose?"

A gun's purpose is to shoot. The most powerful tool for bringing someone to their knees in an instant. A single pistol. That was the answer I had found to the warning Lyft had left me.

Give up, with a chance to meet the Prince right in front of me? I had stayed awake all night turning it over, and I still couldn't do it. I had to meet him. I had to ask him whether he had killed Dorothy.

My resolve had already hardened into something unshakeable. Noel's brown eyes, on the other hand, were trembling without mercy.

"Uh... well... I mean... I'll, I'll ask the Captain about it."

That was as good as a no. I clicked my tongue inwardly. If I told him I was going in armed, Lyft would stop me by any means necessary. Judging by last night, he wasn't a man who was particular about his methods.

I sighed and looked away from Noel's unsteady gaze.

"Forget it. Pretend you didn't hear that."

"A k-knife, though—I could get you a knife!"

"A knife?"

"Yes. If a dagger would do, I can give you mine. Without... without the Captain knowing, of course."

A blade is a weapon with a great many limitations. And a dagger, at that, would require me to get close. For someone with relatively little physical strength, it wasn't a good choice. But it was better than nothing.

I nodded at Noel, who had done his best.

"Thank you, Noel."

He left looking dazed, then returned as cautiously as a thief sneaking in. The dagger he pulled from his pocket was, quite literally, a short and small blade. The palm-length edge looked sharp enough, but I wondered whether I could even peel fruit with it.

Should I sneak out to a gunsmith's? I considered slipping out of the mansion at dawn, then shook my head. Even if I gave the coachman the slip and found a shop, I didn't have the money for something as expensive as a pistol.

I swallowed a sigh, staring at the dagger Noel had left behind, when Marianne knocked.

"My lady. You have a visitor."

"A visitor? Who?"

"They say Viscount Cecilia sent them."

So the bastard was that impatient. I had thought it would take more time. Had he already arranged a venue?

I told Marianne to send the visitor up. The person who appeared was, unexpectedly, a middle-aged woman in lavish attire.

"Good afternoon, my lady. I'm Angelina Deborah, head designer of Deborah Boutique. Please call me Madame Deborah."

"Madame Deborah? A dressmaker?"

"Viscount Cecilia has prepared this for you, my lady."

Having said this, Madame Deborah snapped her fingers at an employee who had come in carrying a large box. At her signal, the boutique employee opened it, and red lace spilled out.

It was a dress. Viciously red. Viciously extravagant.

Another employee opened a box containing a pendant set with vivid blue sapphires. The red high heels and the fan were dripping with glittering jewels as well.

"Now then, my lady. You'll need to try it on, won't you? He asked that it be finished by tomorrow, so we're rather short on time."

Madame Deborah snapped her fingers once more, and the boutique staff descended on me all at once. Before I could even resist, they stripped me of my clothes and pulled over my head a red dress cut so deep I couldn't tell which side was supposed to be the front. In a whirlwind I was dressed, accessorized, and shod. Madame Deborah clapped her hands with a sharp crack.

"As expected of Viscount Cecilia. He said he was estimating by eye, but he was spot on. Let's see... swap the shoes for a size smaller. And her ankles are so slender and pretty—take the hem up a notch as well."

"Wait a moment, Madame. I never said I would wear this dress."

"Oh my? Why not? Don't you like it? It's so beautiful."

"It's beautiful, but it's too..."

"Too...?"

I struggled to find the right word.