He cast a mysterious smile over his shoulder, then turned the corner out of sight.
Aria cradled her teacup, drinking deep of its scent and flavor, replaying every sensation of her lips against his cheek.
Then Corvin popped up in the doorway, breaking her reverie and asking if she was ready to go. Before leaving the room, she thought to check her reflection in the mirror.
And paused.
She looked likeherself. Down a few pounds, perhaps, but the pale sickliness and the sallow cast to her face that she feared had become permanent had lifted. No longer a waning skeleton but a princess, one who seemed to have never met a curse. If only that could be true.
Aria tucked away the ever-present countdown in her mind. No doubt the cold of Northglen would reclaim her tomorrow, but she would take today, every blessed moment. For today, she set aside the worries about her curse, her kingdom, her sister, her future.
She turned to Corvin with a grin. “Show meeverything.”
Time passed too quickly, and after the tour of the hamlet, Aria had to rush to be ready for the party on time. Mourning the absence of Jenny, she borrowed one of the maids, Amelia, to help with her hair and gown. Aria had commissioned a winter gown of blue silk overlaid with shimmering silver. White embroidery crossed her left shoulder, spilling onto the bodice in a flurry of delicate snowflakes. She realized now the gown was quite out of place in this pocket of the kingdom, where snow did not cull the lemons.
After fussing over details she couldn’t change, Aria descended the stairs at last.
Baron had said the party would be spread over three rooms, which was apparently common for country estates. In one, guests could socialize at tables, even play cards if they desired. Another held food, and the ballroom, of course, provided for dancing.
But for now, a modest crowd had packed into the small entry room, awaiting a word from their host.
Huxley gave the welcome on behalf of the future lord baron, as was socially proper. Aria tried not to clench her teeth at the thought of Baron being silenced within his own home.
With a flourish, Huxley indicated her as the guest of honor, and then Martin gave her formal announcement, including every word of her very long title. Everyone stared at her, waiting.
They were waiting, she realized, for her to speak.
The quill in Aria’s mind engaged itself with a flourish that put Huxley’s to shame, reminding her of how dismally she’d performed when her father had allowed her to host Eliza’s ball.
Her eyes found Baron’s in the crowd, and she heard thememory of his voice.If it damages you, then it is something to be avoided as far as I’m concerned.
She locked the quill in a box.
“Friends.” Aria smiled. “That’s who I see here. Some I have yet to meet and some I am already familiar with. If you don’t yet know me, you at least know Baron—Lord Guillaume. I thank him for opening his home to all of us.”
She gestured in his direction, and he bowed in acknowledgment. He’d changed into a dark suit, and while he lacked his cane, he still wore his dress sword and his ever-present gloves.
“But I would personally like to thank him for something far greater.”
She saw lords and ladies exchange glances. No doubt there were all kinds of rumors about why a Caster would hold the favor of a princess—Henry had confirmed it. Best to give them the truth, then.
“I have seen no greater example of loyalty to Loegria and the Crown than Lord Guillaume Reeves. For that, I hold the utmost gratitude.”
She saw confusion on nearby faces, including Baron’s. Funny that a man could be so insightful regarding others and so blind concerning himself.
“How many of us,” Aria said, “could willingly be wounded and scarred as a child for no other reason than the demand of the Crown? Perhaps you’ve never thought of a witch’s mark in those terms. It’s not a punishment for a crime; there was no law broken. It is, instead, a requirement simply for existing, one no other free citizen of Loegria is required to bear. If enduring such a thing peaceably is not loyalty, I have never met loyalty.
“You are aware of my ... encounter with Widow Morton, but I am not the only one to have suffered because of it. Thanks to the actions of these few Casters in rebellion, HisMajesty has ordered house arrest forall, and once again, Lord Guillaume abides the law despite his own innocence. Despite the unfairness. If such a thing is not loyalty, I have never met loyalty.
“Finally, in addition to the laws forged by royal authority, there are lesser laws in society—the laws of how we interact, how we treat each other. Although these laws favor the Caster as little as official ones, Lord Guillaume stands tall when disparaged, controls his temper when slighted.”
Her eyes returned to Baron’s, forgetting the rest of the crowd. “My father told me the late Baron Marcus Reeves was well-mannered, a noble example in how he managed his estate, and a man who could be trusted to work for the good of court rather than his own ambitions. I can say with certainty that Lord Guillaume exemplifies every attribute of his father, even after being unjustly denied his rightful seat as his father’s heir. If such a thing is not loyalty, I have never met loyalty.”
Baron ducked his head, and Aria became aware of the crowd again, of the silence in the room focused directly onto her. Perhaps she’d gone overboard. It was difficult to read some of the expressions or what thoughts she might have stirred.
The box holding her mental quill rattled, begging release.
“All of this to say”—Aria gave a quick wave—“if you haven’t yet had the pleasure of a conversation with Lord Guillaume, I invite you to take the opportunity before this event is out. I can think of no one in the kingdom more worth learning from. Now, let’s enjoy the celebration.”
