The light of passing street lamps flashed across his face. He squirmed in his seat and stared at his knees.

“You can’t even look at me,” she said, her voice higher in pitch from frustration.

“It’s not appropriate,” he quietly replied, balling his hands together on his lap.

“Looking at me is not appropriate?”

“No. I mean, none of it. I shouldn’t have . . .” He shuddered.

She leaned forward and spoke in a whisper in case Dr. Silk had chosen to breach the trust of his peers and the Hastings Livery Company by finding a way to eavesdrop. “Is it because I’m not like the empire’s women, obedient and modest?”

“No, no!” he said hastily. “Nothing like that. On the contrary. I . . .” And now he also leaned forward and whispered. “I like that about you, that you are different. I find it . . . stimulating.” He actually blushed. Karigan said nothing and waited for him to go on, which only seemed to add to his discomfort. “Well, it’s inappropriate.”

“Why, because the empire likes to hide its women behind veils and cloth and treat them like children?”

“No.” He paused, then, “Like children? Really? Is that what you think?”

She fixed him with a stony glare.

“All right, I guess I can see that,” he mumbled. “But no, that is not the basis of my feelings of impropriety.”

The carriage gently rocked as it rounded another corner. Improper. Impropriety. She was getting sick of those words. “Then what is the problem?”

“Something I thought you of all people would respect,” he replied.

“And what is that?”

He licked his lips, moved in even closer so he could whisper directly into her ear. “My aspiration to be a Weapon, a true Weapon.” His breath was warm against her cheek. “To protect Arhys without distraction.”

“But I’ve helped you with your training. I wouldn’t call that a distraction.”

“I am to be celibate.” He’d whispered it so softly she almost didn’t hear him. “I must be so I can focus on my duty alone.”

Celibate, she thought, and then realized that it insinuated he’d considered its opposite. With her. She did not know whether to laugh or be pleased that the idea had entered his mind. They were cheek to cheek, nearly touching. Her neck and face warmed. She felt that urge to kiss him coming over her again.

“Weapons do not marry,” Cade continued. “You must know this. They commit themselves wholly to those whom they serve.”

Karigan thought maybe he was reading too much into one kiss to be worrying about marriage.

“It’s true, Weapons do not marry,” she whispered, all too conscious of his pleasant musky scent, of the heat he radiated from so intimate a proximity, “but it does not mean they are celibates.”

“You know this for certain?”

The Order of the Black Shields was secretive and there had been plenty of speculation among her friends as to what actually went on in the private lives of the Weapons. Although the Weapons had allowed her into their world more than any other outsider she knew of, it wasn’t like she’d casually chatted with them about the state of their private congresses, or lack thereof. “No,” she admitted, “I don’t know for certain.”

“For me,” Cade said, “it is assumed.”

This time it was Karigan who looked away, suddenly tired and defeated. She wrenched herself away from him, sliding back in her seat, and pulled the veil down over her face. She’d done it once again, opened herself to someone, exposed herself only to be rebuffed. She was glad she could hide her humiliation behind her veil.

I should stay celibate myself, she thought. Forget about men, period. Probably it was all for the best, wasn’t it? That he didn’t want her? It would be less messy that way when it came time for her to leave.

Cade took her hand into his. “Look, Miss Goodgrave . . . Karigan . . . I—”

She snatched her hand away. “Forget I brought any of this up. Just forget it.”

“But . . .” The word hung in the air for a while, then Cade gave up and leaned back into his seat, his posture rigid, and a painful silence followed. It engulfed the cab, and the space felt too close, stifling.

“I am sure you will find a proper gentleman to settle down with,” Cade said eventually.

“What? Settle down? Here?” she whispered harshly and then laughed. It was a bitter sound. “If you think I’m staying here, you are most profoundly mistaken.”

“Where will you go?”

“Home. Back where and when I belong.”

Cade looked like he’d been punched. It was a mixture of surprise and hurt. “How?” He mouthed it more than whispered it.

She did not answer him for she did not know the answer. A moment later, the carriage eased to a halt. She was relieved when a gentleman in a long-tailed serge coat, with a tall silk hat atop his head, opened the door. He smiled at them, and she found her relief short lived when she realized who he was.

“Welcome,” said the ringmaster of Rudman Hadley’s Imperial Circus. “Dr. Silk awaits you in the big top.”

INTO THE BIG TOP

“The circus?” Cade demanded after he jumped out of the carriage, landing beside Karigan.

“Yes, sir, the finest entertainments you will find in the whole empire.” The ringmaster removed his tall hat and extended it toward the big top with a flourish. The walkway was lit with torchlight. “The most amazing, the magnificent, the original, Imperial Circus lays before you!”