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the moment I spoke them, for I realized that my record had changed. “Four,” I corrected. “Four people.”
    “You found someone’s soul mate this evening?” Mr. St. Jerome sounded surprised.
    I nodded, attempting to swallow my misery and chase it away with a deep breath, but I was unable to hold back tears. I turned away as the first traitors slipped down my cheeks. I hated myself for having proved that I was as weak and foolish as the chronicler assumed, but I hated him more for being part of the obstacle blocking me from my soul mate. I also hated that I had ruined my only handkerchief with his blood, rendering it useless to dry my tears.
    Michael touched my shoulder. I flinched, and he offered me his handkerchief. After I took it, he wrapped his arms around me. Though his presence was comforting, I could also sense his conflict—a mix of guilt and regret.
    “I assume there is a detail of your evening that you neglected to mention,” Mr. St. Jerome commented dryly.
    “You didn’t tell him?” I asked.
    “No, I had not gotten to that matter yet,” Michael replied.
    “Oh.” I turned to glare at the chronicler. “So you are naturally this unpleasant? Here I thought you were being cruel out of jealousy, believing that I am stealing your apprentice’s affections.”
    He ignored the comment and continued to peer at me with a guarded expression. “You are certain of this?”
    “If I hear that question once more tonight, I will scream. Yes, Mr. St. Jerome, I am quite certain that you are unpleasant.”
    “Emily!” Michael said disapprovingly.
    Though I might have imagined it, I thought I saw the corners of Mr. St. Jerome’s mouth twitch in a smile. “You are not the first to accuse me of such, and you may call me Simon if you wish. I am indebted to you for campaigning so strongly on my behalf. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”
    I nodded, and then looked up at Michael. How could I tell him? I supposed there was nothing to be done to soften it, so I blurted my reply in a nervous rush. “When I saw that we were soul mates, I also saw that you would be dead by the end of the year, but I assumed that it was only the end of your apprenticeship, because I did not know that there was a possibility that you could truly die. That’s why I asked if your apprenticeship was almost over. But there must be something you can do, can’t you?” I turned to his mentor. “Precautions you can take? Perhaps healing potions? I know a very talented alchemist—”
    “There aren’t precautions, per se, but there are steps that can be taken now that we know this,” Simon interrupted. I nodded, a bit relieved. “Are you recovered enough to read the guests in the ballroom?”
    “Yes, I should be.” I dabbed at my eyes once more and returned Michael’s handkerchief. “Will you walk with me? It is difficult to walk and read auras at the same time. It would be a great help if you could steady me. I fell flat on my face at a party once, and Sarah has never let me forget it.”
    “Of course.”
    I took Michael’s arm and we proceeded to the ballroom. Simon walked behind us, cold and silent. I was beginning to understand why Mr. Gryphon seemed so convinced that Simon was capable of murder, but I couldn’t imagine Miss Morgan flirting with him. She preferred her men dapper and animated, and no one would accuse Simon St. Jerome of being either of those things. We found Lord Willowbrook waiting for us outside the ballroom.
    “The rooms are being searched, though that may take some time. Are you ready to proceed here?” he asked.
    “Yes, I am,” I said. “What should I do if I spot the master necromancer?”
    “I have not announced your intention. If you are discreet, no one will suspect what you are doing, and if you spot him, remain silent,” Willowbrook instructed. “You can inform me of it once you are outside the room, and we will decide how to handle it best.”
    “Very well.” I nodded. It wasn’t