Page 19 of A Fragile Enchantment

“Ah,” Jack said, surprised. “There you are.”

Kit’s brow furrowed with vague concern as Jack blinked hard. Then his eyes lit up with the realization of what Niamh had done. He looked almost grateful.

A secret thrill shot through her. The enchantment was working exactly as she’d hoped. But now that Jack was staring directly at his brother, the magic’s effect attenuated. He appraised Kit like a jeweler with a loupe affixed to his eye. The cold impersonality of it almost made Niamh feel indignant on Kit’s behalf.

After a few moments, Jack asked, “Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Kit said dryly.

“Excellent.” If Jack was aware of how Kit was attempting to kill him with only a glare, it did not seem to bother him at all. He retrieved his pocket watch from the fob at his waist. “Now, then. Get yourself ready, Kit. We haven’t much time. King Felipe and Infanta Rosa will be here in a matter of hours.”

“Just a moment,” Niamh cut in. Both Carmines looked at her with twinned looks of befuddlement, but she pressed onward. “The coat isn’t finished yet.”

Reluctantly, Kit surrendered it to her.

Jack regarded her like she was a puzzle he had not quite figured out how to solve. “Very well, then. Come down when you’re ready for the ball.”

Niamh could not be certain if it was panic or excitement that made her heart skip a beat. “I didn’t realize I was invited.”

“Of course you are,” Jack said, as though it were obvious. “I expect you to be there. You must be seen.”

Seen?she thought.Me?

But she was nobody. Surely, he meant her designs needed to be seen. Perhaps to drum up anticipation for Kit’s and Rosa’s wedding ensembles. She’d have to choose her outfit wisely, then.

“Of course I’ll be there.” She would have liked more time to prepare, but she could do this. All she had to do now was cut out and sew the lining into Kit’s coat. Which reminded her that she never did find that pencil. Muttering under her breath, Niamh rummaged through the pile ofthingson her desk. If only she could remember where—

“Behind your ear,” Kit said.

“Huh?” Her hand flew to her temple and found the pencil tucked behind her ear. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered. And with that, he headed for the door as though he could not escape quickly enough.

That evening, Niamh laid every dress she’d brought from Machland out on her bed. She did her very best not to touch them. One could not be too careful when it came to a pile—a mountain, really, in this case—of enchanted garments. Riffling through them willy-nilly would send you tumbling through the full spectrum of emotion in the blink of an eye. She’d done it a time or two before, and she did not care to repeat the experience.

Niamh stared at her gowns with increasing dismay. This was the first ball she’d ever attended in her entire life, and Jack had extended the invitation to her sononchalantly,as though it would not send her into an overthinking spiral. She needed to look elegant but not marmish, bold but not outlandish, classic but not unfashionable. Something that said,I belong here,without being presumptuous.

Eventually, she narrowed down her choices to two of her favoritegowns. The first was a white muslin whose spangles had taken her weeks to sew onto the skirts. She’d imbued every last stitch with the heady joy of a late-summer night, and now, it sparkled like laughter. The second was a peach cotton, embroidered with an enchantment that bespelled its wearer to appear twice as beautiful in the eyes of whoever gazed upon them. The peach would certainly be eye-catching, but she hadn’t come to Avaland to ensnare anyone. The white would do.

Once she’d dressed herself, she made her way downstairs with Kit’s new coat folded neatly over her arm. She paused at the half landing on top of the imperial staircase and broke out into a grin at what she saw. The staff had been busy while she was locked away in her room. Arrangements of white lilies and baby’s breath bloomed on each step, and jasmine twined itself through the wrought-iron balustrades. They perfumed the air with their sweet, delicate nectar.

And then, she spied Jack, Sofia, and Kit lingering at the foot of the staircase. Kit radiated an aura of such gloom, it was as though he stood at the center of a battlefield rather than the loveliest reception room she had ever seen. Niamh tried not to notice that he was only in his shirtsleeves, with his hands tucked into his pockets. She hurried toward them, and all three drew up short at the sight of her.

“Miss O’Connor, you are like the Saksian ice fields on a bright day,” Sofia said warmly. Her pale eyes glittered with delight. “I used to play there when I was a girl, chasing after the frost spirits with my sisters. Do you not think so, Your Highness?”

Jack wore a rather peculiar expression. He studied his wife as though he did not recognize her at all. “I cannot say. I’ve never been, much less heard you speak of such a thing.”

Sofia deflated, the excitement gone out of her in a rush. Niamh’s stomach twisted. She recognized the sting of that disappointment well: a hand reached out and ignored.

To Jack’s credit, however, he realized quickly enough that he misspoke. “But it is a very whimsical ensemble. In fact, it makes me think of summers at Woodville Hall. Father would visit us in the summer when we were children. Do you recall, Kit?”

“Oh,” Kit said darkly, “I recall.”

Jack’s expression turned cold. It seemed they remembered those summers quite differently.

For a moment, the four of them stood in awkward silence. Niamh desperately yearned to see the girlish wonder on Sofia’s face again. It made her feel oddly tenderhearted that such a composed woman, a princess no less, melted so easily in the face of an enchantment for joy. “I will give the gown to you if you would like it, Your Highness.”

Although it was more subdued this time, her smile returned. “I would like nothing more.”