“Flattery is in the job description, my lady.”
The gown she chose was a masterpiece. The silk shimmered in soft blue tones, reminiscent of the sky after rain. Silver embroidery traced the neckline and cuffs like frost on winter glass. Modestly puffed sleeves tapered into fitted arms, the tight corset shaping her feminine figure as her skirts gently swayed with each step.
Evelyne sighed as Seraphine pulled the corset strings tighter. “I’ll wager I won’t manage more than a single tart before this thing has me gasping.”
“Nonsense. You’ll manage two if you eat standing up,” Seraphine quipped.
With a light touch of cosmetics, she completed the look. Evelyne’s lashes framed her eyes beautifully, and hercheeks glowed with a faint blush. A soft pink on her lips was the finishing detail.
“There. You’ll have everyone craning their necks for a glimpse.”
Evelyne twirled in front of the mirror, watching the skirts of her gown ripple. And for a brief moment, her earlier worries melted away.
“Thank you, Seraphine. Truly.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“If fortune favors me, this gown will distract them from their tiresome prattle,” Evelyne murmured with a smile.
Seraphine chuckled. “Miracles do happen.”
***
The gardens of the Duskwood estate stretched out like a dream, their opulence a testament to the wealth and status of Caltheris’ ruling family. Ancient oaks framed the grounds, their twisted branches heavy with moss and blooming vines. Silken canopies in soft pastels dotted the main lawn, shading tables draped in ivory linens and adorned with ornate porcelain tea sets.
Evelyne halted at the garden’s edge, unease settling in. Her dress swayed, catching the sunlight, but her corset pinched tight. Still, she moved with steady refinement, masking her thoughts behind a calm expression.
The society luncheon marked the start of the courting season, where noble families from the south gathered to showcase their eligible sons and daughters. It was as much a show of power as a carefully orchestrated game of alliances. Evelyne couldn’t decide which she loathed more—the stifling tradition or the endless parade of suitors.
“Come now, at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Aurelia said as she slipped toEvelyne’s side in a shimmering emerald gown, offering a knowing smile at the ordeal of such courting events.
Evelyne sighed, her gaze drifting over the crowd in search of any excuse to linger at the edges. Near a canopy, she caught sight of Lady Bavrick—striking in a gown of deep sapphire, her silver-streaked auburn hair gleaming with a regal grace her son had inherited in neither looks nor manner. Evelyne’s lips curved faintly at the thought, but the amusement faded when she noticed her mother beside Lady Bavrick, deep in conversation. Heartbeat quickening, Evelyne edged closer to Aurelia and shrank back, using her sister’s presence as a shield while silently praying their mother’s eyes did not find her.
No such luck—Lady Celeste, noticing her daughters at the edge of the garden, offered a graceful wave of her gloved hand, excused herself, and began to glide toward them.Great.
“My dears,” she said warmly, her keen hazel eyes sweeping over them both. “You look stunning.” She took Aurelia’s hands first, gently squeezing them, before turning to Evelyne and brushing a hand along her shoulder. “The blue suits you perfectly, Evelyne. Your hair looks lovely pinned up like that.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Evelyne gave a small dip of her head.
“Now,” Celeste continued, “remember to greet every noble family, no matter how tedious it may feel. These events are as much about making connections as they are about appearances. Smile, be pleasant, and for goodness’ sake, Evelyne—be polite.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“The luncheon is for your benefit, after all. You never know what opportunities might arise from a kind word or a thoughtful gesture.” Their mother’s expression softened as she added, “I know this isn’tyour favorite part of the season, Evelyne, but do try to look entertained.”
She sounded exactly like Aurelia, and Evelyne had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. With that, Lady Duskwood patted her hand and gave them both a final, approving nod before gliding back into the crowd.
The crisp notes of laughter and conversation floated through the garden. Evelyne found herself again caught in the endless chatter of debutantes and their mothers, each vying for attention with exaggerated smiles and hollow merriment.
She was about to take refuge by the floral centerpiece when a sudden hush rippled through the crowd. Heads turned, and Evelyne instinctively followed their gaze to the man stepping into the garden.
Alaric Stonebridge.
His rich, sun-kissed brown skin seemed to catch the light, glowing warmly against the deep green of his perfectly tailored waistcoat. His black hair was neatly styled, every strand in place, adding to his cultivated appearance. But his eyes stood out most—light blue with hints of hazel. They were utterly mesmerizing, and looking away was nearly impossible.
Evelyne couldn’t help but take notice, as she often did, of how seamlessly he carried both his mother’s grace and his father’s imposing demeanor. Their families had been closely intertwined for years through friendship, business, and mutual respect. While Alaric’s charisma quickly captivated others, Evelyne had long since learned to see past the facade.
His eyes met hers as he approached, and a wry smile appeared. “Lady Evelyne,” he greeted her smoothly. “What a delight tosee you here. The scenery is much improved by your beauty.”
