At breakfast the morning after her first London ball, Charlotte is forbidden from reading and listens as cousins Margaret and Edith chatter about the dances. Margaret boasts a suitor may call, and Aunt Amelia briskly sends her off to prepare. When Amelia asks Charlotte about the ball, Edith interjects that Charlotte only danced once and spent the night with a woman on the stairs.

Charlotte admits she found the evening overwhelming and says Sabine kept her company. Amelia brightens at the mention of “the young widow Olivares,” praising Sabine’s propriety and recounting society’s view of her: a newly wed viscountess whose husband died soon after their arrival in London, supposedly the love of her life. Charlotte privately recalls Sabine’s whispered confession, “I’m not,” contradicting the tale of grief. A caller is announced for Margaret, and the subject is dropped by all but Charlotte.

Three days later, Charlotte attends her second ball, dressed in warmer-hued silk, hopeful rather than afraid. In a lantern-lit garden spilling from the hosting house, she searches for Sabine. Sabine seems to appear beside her without warning, dressed in caramel and watching the dancers, and Charlotte greets her warmly.

They trade teasing lines about titles and names. Sabine refuses “Viscountess,” calling it another life and saying she has had more than one. She insists on calling Charlotte “Charlotte” rather than “Lottie,” explaining that names have flavors—dismissing others like Mary as “plain as milk,” Margaret as “tea without sugar,” and Edith as “burnt toast”—before smiling at “Charlotte,” which makes Charlotte feel seen and drawn in.

Aunt Amelia arrives, scolding Charlotte for lingering, then shifts to polished warmth upon recognizing Sabine. Sabine smoothly adopts a formal, distant persona to flatter Amelia about Charlotte’s behavior. Amelia pulls Charlotte away to meet someone, and Sabine offers a small wave as they part. The episode leaves Charlotte aware of Sabine’s layered selves and more captivated by her.

That night, as Charlotte is undressed by her maid, she savors her own name, lingering on the taste suggested by Sabine’s metaphor, signaling her deepening attachment and evolving sense of self.