Percy opened his eyes as he felt a long, rough tongue slide along his cheek and circle his eye with a wet slurp. Harrow let out a soft, whimpering whine, and Percy groaned, pushing the dog away.


    He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the light at bay for a few more moments. He and Harrow had slept on the floor. Their spot remained warm, and the sunlight streaming through the window felt pleasant against his skin.


    Hex''s soft snores echoed from the table where he slept—slumped in a chair, his head resting on his arms.


    Percy yearned to drift back to sleep. To return to the warmth of pleasant dreams. The pressing need to relieve himself urged him to get up. It was a battle he knew he would not win. Harrow whined and paced by the door, suffering from the same need.


    Percy could let the dog out alone, but his urgency meant choosing between the chamber pot near the washstand or finding a spot in the back alley. He could see Cordelia''s sleeping form on the sofa with a clear view of the pot, so he chose the alley.


    "Come on, Harrow," he murmured, "let''s take a walk."


    Before reaching the door, he heard Cordelia''s voice from beneath her blankets.


    "Percy, don''t be too long. I need to brief you on tonight''s plan—ensure you have all the information."


    Percy grimaced. What would he be getting himself into this time?


    “Yes, Cordelia. We won’t be long.”


    Cordelia heard the door close and Percy''s footsteps fade as he approached the street.


    Rising from the settee, she stretched her cramped arms and legs. A sigh escaped her lips at the sight of the empty bed—she now wished she had claimed its comfort. She had assumed Elsbeth would take it, but her friend had chosen the lab instead.


    She shed her clothes, keeping only her shift and knickers. While Hex slept nearby, she made hasty use of the chamber pot. She would need to dress before Percy''s return. Her undress might be acceptable around Hex, but Percy was another matter.


    Time was pressing. Expectations were for Elsbeth to be home for afternoon tea, and it was already past noon. The trip across town would be slow, and Elsbeth would need at least an hour to make herself respectable.


    Cordelia moved to the washstand, cleaning her face and hands in cold water. She shivered, the room''s warmth fading. She had reopened the window to allow Corvus to stretch his wings and seek his lunch.


    Even after an initial wash, her hands remained dirty from the night''s work. She needed to clean beneath her nails. She had soap, but she wouldn''t use it. The poor quality of the bar meant its cleaning agents were inert and unable to lather without warmer water, rendering it useless. Instead, she used a small knife to remove the dirt beneath her nails.


    She dressed, tying and buttoning the stiff outer garments required for proper society.


    Most of the clothing was Elsbeth''s. Not only was she brilliant, but she also had impeccable taste in fashion. Cordelia''s style tended toward the mystical—fitting her unconventional nature. She had taken to ''borrowing'' Elsbeth’s cast-offs to reduce odd stares and leers. Elsbeth never objected. Cordelia suspected this sharing had been her friend''s intention all along.


    Time to wake up, Elsbeth.


    A smile crossed her face as she cracked the door to the lab. Elsbeth lay sleeping on the day bed, still dressed, boots untied but remaining on her feet. After last night, Elsbeth was a complete mess. An hour might not be ample time to transition her to the proper English woman her mother expected.


    She sat at the edge of the bed, leaned over, and kissed her friend''s temple. She loved Elsbeth with all her heart. Their closeness transcended mere friendship. They were sisters in every sense of the word. A closeness she had never thought she would have.


    She lost her parents at a young age and lived with her grandmother afterward. When her grandmother’s health waned, arrangements were made for Dr. Wren to provide for Cordelia’s care. Dr. Wren had raised her as part of his family and provided everything she ever needed. He had given her a family and the freedom to be herself, but most of all, he had given her Elsbeth. For that, she would be forever grateful.


    Her face still close, she whispered in Elsbeth’s ear.


    “Els, darling, time to wake. You’re expected for tea, and you know how Mother frets over punctuality.”


    Elsbeth stirred, but her only response was a groan.


    Cordelia gave her a gentle shake.


    "Come now, Els. You need to get across town, and it''s already midday."


    Elsbeth''s eyes opened to see Cordelia’s face pressing close. Her long curls cascaded across her chest and face, and her red lips were full. Their delicate moisture drew her forward, and she brushed her lips against them. Lost in a moment of desire, she began to tremble. She pulled Cordelia closer and pressed their mouths together in a full, lasting, and complete kiss.


    Elsbeth let her head sink back into the pillow as Cordelia pulled away. Her lips tingled from Cordelia’s warmth, the sensation lingering like an unspoken promise. Elsbeth closed her eyes and drew deep, slow breaths.


    Cordelia smiled. Her fingers lingered longer than necessary as she tucked a curl behind Elsbeth’s ear.


    “There is hardly time for that, my love. We have places to be. Get up and get a move on. We need to make a plan; then I have to head out for a bit. We’ll meet back here tonight.”


    “Where are you going? I had hoped for your support at tea. Mother means to parade me before another eligible gentleman, no doubt.”


    Cordelia smiled. “That, I’m afraid, is something you must navigate alone. I have to see Durry. I need him to get me before Henry Wright within the next few days. It mustn’t wait longer.”


    Elsbeth sat up. Talking to Henry Wright was crucial.


    “We need him to tell us everything he knows about Hetty Hampstead. She is behind this. We need to know what he knows. We need to find out everything.”


    Cordelia nodded as she moved towards the door. “That’s the plan. Now, be a dear and make haste.”


    With that, she left the room, leaving Elsbeth alone. Elsbeth replayed the kiss in her mind, stuck on a single thought.


    When, she wondered, would she have another?


    <hr>


    Elsbeth took her turn at the washstand, attempting to salvage what remained of her dignity.


    Her hair was a disaster—wild, tangled, and beyond repair. The only solution was to twist it into a severe bun that made her look like a woman twice her age. Gone were her best features—her long, brown curls, the only charming thing about her. Instead, all anyone would see were her thick, fleshy earlobes. In short, she would be hideous.


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    Her dress, which she had taken great care to protect, was no better. The dark fabric had done a terrible job concealing dirt, clinging to every bit of grime from the night’s work. Why had she worn a dress in the first place? Next time she went grave digging, she would most certainly wear trousers.


    And now—after everything—she was expected to sit through tea.


    She would need her own washstand, a proper mirror, and every beauty implement she owned to make herself presentable. Given the disaster before her, she should have started an hour ago. Instead, she stood here, fuming.


    This was a girl problem. And it was infuriating.


    Hex, of course, looked perfectly fine. She hated him for it. Despite sleeping slumped over the table, he had bounced up like a spring, now stretching through his calisthenics routine, showing no ill effects from the long night.


    On the other hand, Percy remained his usual rumpled self, and the fact that no one cared only deepened her resentment.


    She wanted to punch them both.


    With a grimace, she gave up. Time to hear Cordelia’s plan. Then, she would face the inevitable—returning home, making herself presentable, and enduring another round of her mother’s endless fussing.


    Somewhere along the way, she would need to find the will to pretend she cared.


    <hr>


    Cordelia sat at the table, talking with Hex and Percy. The boys fell silent when they saw her joining them. Percy, looking uncertain and uncomfortable.


    “Perfect timing, Els,” she said. “I was about to tell them the plan.”


    “How exciting,” Elsbeth said, trying not to sound too droll.


    “Tonight, we head to Acton to survey the Miller farm. If the carriage that chased us came from there, there might be a connection to Henry Wright’s case. We need to see it for ourselves.”


    Elsbeth expected this, though she’d preferred a less hands-on approach. Examining records and questioning the leasing agent. But that was her way. Cordelia preferred to see things with her own eyes.


    “Everyone?” Elsbeth asked.


    “Yes.” Cordelia nodded. “We need every pair of eyes. It should be low risk. We’re observing. Besides, Percy hasn’t had the chance to be involved. And who knows, he might even find it thrilling.”


    Elsbeth glanced at Percy. He looked deeply un-thrilled. But she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t refuse Cordelia. He never did.


    “Regarding preparations. Hex, you’re in charge of transportation and tools. Percy, you’re his assistant. Elsbeth and I will handle supplies.”


    The boys signaled their understanding.


    “Because this is a reconnaissance mission, some special rules will be in effect.”


    Cordelia waited to make sure she had their attention.


    “First, dark clothing and gloves. Nothing bright that might reflect light. Tonight is a half-moon, and there won’t be many clouds, so keep that in mind. It will be cold, so dress warm.”


    “Hex, you’re the driver. You need to get us there, find a place off the main road to park, and bring us back to the city.”


    “Percy, you are our eyes and ears. You must remain alert at all times. If you see anything unusual, speak of it with haste. You will ride the rail both ways, and when we are on foot, you will be last, watching our flanks and our rear.”


    Seeing the confusion in Percy’s eyes, she paused.


    “Flanks and rear. That means everything not in front of us. Nod if you understand.”


    Percy nodded.


    “We expect persons to be present, so we can’t drive up and knock on the front door. Once we park, I’ll cover the carriage with a veil that will obscure it. Then, we set out on foot. Corvus and Harrow will act as forward scouts. Then Hex, myself, Elsbeth, and Percy. We’ll stay spaced along the road''s edge, two to a side. Again, Hex is leading. If he stops, we stop. If he crouches, we crouch.”


    “Everyone following?” Cordelia asked.


    Hex and Elsbeth nodded, but only Percy grumbled, “I know what flanks are, but why am I always last?”


    Cordelia ignored him.


    “Once we reach the farmhouse, we’ll take up positions to observe. Follow my lead. If anything goes wrong, you all head back to the carriage. If I don’t return within a few minutes, Hex, you take Elsbeth and Percy and return to the city. Don’t risk waiting.”


    “If there is a veil over the carriage, how will we find it again?” Hex asked.


    “If you know it’s there, it won’t appear veiled. It’s a trick of the mind, Hex, not invisibility.”


    Hex considered this and seemed satisfied.


    “I don’t like the part about leaving you behind. You wouldn’t leave any of us behind,” Elsbeth said, the worry on her face evident.


    “True. But I have options that the rest of you don’t have. I’ll be fine. Plus, Harrow and Corvus will be with me.”


    Elsbeth was not satisfied but accepted the answer.


    “Finally, we leave around seven, which puts us there around eight. It’ll be dark, so Hex will bring a lantern. We won’t light it unless we need it. “I’ll decide how to proceed once we know the situation. Got it?”


    They all nodded in agreement.


    “Okay. Any questions?”


    Percy raised his hand.


    “No, you cannot ride in the carriage.”


    Percy lowered his hand.


    “Any other questions?”


    Hex raised his hand.


    “No, you may not carry a gun.”


    Hex lowered his hand.


    Elsbeth raised her hand.


    Cordelia arched an eyebrow.


    “Elsbeth?”


    “Well, it’s not exactly a question—I’m going to wear trousers.”


    Hex gave her a questioning look. “You’re going to wear trousers under your dress?”


    Elsbeth rolled her eyes, “No, Hex. I won’t be wearing a dress. I’m wearing trousers.”


    “Smart,” Cordelia said. “It makes sense for this type of investigation. The question is, where can we find you trousers?”


    Both of the women turned to look at Hex.


    “What? You need me to find you trousers? I’m not even sure they make them in your size. You’re all legs and no waist, so you’ll need a tiny belt. While at it, I could acquire a fake beard and top hat to complete the look.”


    Percy chimed in. “Children’s clothes might work.”


    Hex found this hysterical, but the dour expression on Elsbeth’s face warned him away from an outburst of laughter.


    “Hex,” Elsbeth said, her voice a low growl, “figure it out. Or so help me, to prove my point, you and Percy will be wearing dresses tonight.”


    Hex glared back but decided it was best not to argue.


    “Everyone clear on their roles?” Cordelia asked.


    Percy raised his hand again.


    “Yes, Percy?”


    “What about that thing? From the rail. If it’s as you say, won’t that creature be a threat?”


    Cordelia looked at each of them. She could see the worry creeping in.


    “Good question. First, that is a role for Corvus and Harrow. They will be our first line of defense and provide an early warning. I’ve thought about what might be effective against such a thing as shadow and tar. That’s why Elsbeth will bring torches. Fire will be our best defense.”


    No one responded, but the mood of the room seemed to sour.


    “All right then. I’ll see you all by seven.” Cordelia said. “And Hex—”


    Hex smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t be late.”


    He clapped Percy on the back. “Come on, Percy. It’s time for us to find some lunch. And ‘lady’ trousers.”


    Hex gave a hearty chuckle. “Lady trousers. Can you imagine?”


    Percy groaned but followed him out the door and down the stairs.


    Cordelia watched them go, then turned to Elsbeth.


    “Adorable, aren’t they?”


    Elsbeth smirked. “When they’re not being insufferable.”


    They both laughed.


    “Think they’ll be on time?” Elsbeth asked.


    “Well, there’s always a first time. But I wouldn’t bet on it being tonight.”


    <hr>


    Elsbeth braced herself as the carriage stopped before the Wren household. She had endured the ride across town, lost in quiet thought. She was crossing between worlds, leaving behind the wild, exhilarating danger of life with Cordelia and—with great angst—reentering the polished, predictable theater of Victorian society.


    Here, the roles were written long before birth, and deviation was not an option.


    This afternoon, her mother would direct a precise performance in which each knew their part by heart.


    She was to be the dutiful daughter. The eligible young woman poised to surrender herself. Body, name, soul, and fortune—to a husband who would shape the rest of her life.


    A life of bearing children and managing a household. A self-disappearing act, an invisible acquiescence into polite society. The same surrender that generations of women had made before her.


    Hex, meanwhile, played a far more enviable role. The charming young heir, free to wander, falter, and take his time. The world would wait for him.


    The world had never waited for her.


    Then there was Percy—not quite on stage, not entirely off it. A servant in the house, never a player in its grand productions. He was visible yet unseen, essential yet ignored.


    Elsbeth did not envy Percy’s fate—she had no desire to disappear. But she did not envy Hex either. His freedoms were illusions, mere delays before duty.


    What she envied—what she ached for—was something neither of them had.


    She wanted to be seen. To be more than a well-bred possession, suffocated by expectation.


    She wanted to be Cordelia.


    Cordelia lives by her own rules and answers to no one. Society had long since stopped trying to break or bend her. She would, without apology, always be herself.


    Elsbeth resented her for it.


    Not in a way that threatened their friendship, but in a way that sat deep in her bones, restless and raw.


    They were alike in so many ways and yet so different.


    Cordelia would carve her future. Elsbeth would be given hers whether she wanted it or not.


    Cordelia existed without compromise. Elsbeth was property.


    She was a brilliant, well-bred, well-trained young woman. But despite her learning, passions, and dreams of more, she was a possession all the same. And she could do nothing to change that.


    Not without losing everything.


    The carriage door swung open, and Elsbeth entered the life that awaited her. She pushed the bitterness deep inside. Into that already crowded space where it wouldn’t hurt.


    At least, not yet.