“Father, I ...” Aria hesitated, then set her shoulders. “I was c—”
Her jaw clamped shut. She couldn’t speak.
Which meant the curse was still in effect. The blow of that nearly staggered her.
“Yes?” said her father.
Not now, Aria. Indulge in self-pity later if you must, but not now.After weeks struggling through fog, she couldn’t waste a moment of clear thinking. Whether by accident or intention, Baron had given her a reprieve. She would seize it.
“I was curious,” she said, “about the state of affairs regarding Northglen.”
Her father nodded. “You wish to rejoin Upper Court meetings. This evening doesn’t entirely fill me with confidence, though youaretaking the suitor business seriously.”
“I hoped we might discuss a few things now, just the two of us.”
With his wine glass, he gestured at the packed room. “Just the two of us?”
Aria grimaced. As if invited by her careless comment, a group of court members approached her father. Not a moment later, Aria was pulled away by a well-intentioned Eliza, and she couldn’t deny her sister.
One hour, she promised. One hour to give Eliza the celebration she deserved, and then Aria could slip away to a washroom—not to sleep, but to plan. With a clear mind, she would lay out her battle tactics for the next eighty days of siege.
And she would figure out where Baron fit into those tactics.
Aria danced like she’d never danced before—without an ounceof exhaustion, with anyone available and willing, with joy in every step. She held conversations with a dozen potential suitors, and she made at least half of them laugh, though she couldn’t remember a word they said. If her mind went anywhere, it went to a single cup of tea in a kitchen, pondering furiously at the motives driving the man who’d made it.
For the third time, she searched Eliza out of the crowd, pulling her sister away from a gawky young boy who clearly breathed a sigh of relief at no longer needing to impress a princess. Her sister’s irritation melted into a laugh as Aria linked arms with her and spun them both.
“Aria!” Eliza giggled, then hushed her voice. “Aria.You have beenwildall evening.”
“There are worse things than wildness.”Exhaustion, for one.“Look there, Eliza, but subtly.” Aria nodded toward the corner of the room, where a young man had been watching her sister for the better part of twenty minutes, smiling to himself whenever he heard the princess laugh.
Eliza, of course, was not subtle, blushing openly when their eyes met. She rippled her fingers in the young man’s direction as if playing the notes of a scale on the harpsichord. Taking the invitation, he approached.
“I believe he is one of Earl Wycliff’s sons,” Aria said. “I can’t be certain which one, though I’ve heard no poor reputations about any.”
The younger girl leaned in, touching her forehead to Aria’s.
“He’sgorgeous,” Eliza whispered fiercely. “True-love material for certain.”
“I suggest you begin with single-dance material,” Aria whispered back, “and worry about true loveaftera formal courtship.”
But she grinned at her sister and stepped away, allowing the two to meet. Since her father had retired to his throne, she tooka break from dancing to join him, bringing them each a pastry from the table.
“You’re certainly enjoying yourself.” The king smiled.
“I find myself with a great appreciation for life today.”
Her hour was nearly up, but before leaving the joyful event, she had one last thread of curiosity to chase.
“Father, what do you remember of the late baron? Marcus Reeves.”
The man hadn’t been a member of the Upper Court, and it was clear her father had to think a moment before responding. “Marcus was well-mannered, though he showed a certain disdain for fashion norms. Questionable taste in his personal life, considering he married, first, a foreign woman of Caster bloodline and, second, a woman who later left him. But he managed his estate well. He never caused headaches in court. Not a scheming type, nor overly prideful. Noble, as I said.”
Though her meeting with Baron had been brief, Aria thought he echoed some attributes of his father.
“I think perhaps we should reevaluate the Reeves title,” she said. “I’ve given it thought, and while a Caster at court presents dangers, it presents opportunities as well. Casters occupy a minority in Loegria’s citizenship, but they’re still a presence. And one with no representation at court. Is it not better to understandallthe peoples of our kingdom? If we’d had a voice for Casters available, perhaps Widow Morton would not have felt so isolated. Perhaps she might have even been reasoned with before things escalated.”
To her surprise, her father nodded. “These are valid points, certainly.”
