Page 73 of The Starling and the Hatter

Elise laughed lightly. “I don’t think we know the game.”

“Sure you do,” she said. “It’s croquet.”

We both looked at each other and then back at the troupe. “Is it?” I asked.

The girl nodded. “Watch me. I’m one of the crooked sticks.” She ran off to join four acrobats who were stacked in pairs. Each of the women who stood on the men’s shoulders reached down and took one of the girl’s hands. In unison, the pairs moved forward, swinging the girl back and then forward until her feet hit against the backside of a young boy, who then rolled into a ball. The boy continued doing forward rolls until he tucked himself beneath the back of a tall man who was in a backbend, acting as one of the wickets. Once the young boy was through, he stood up, and the jugglers (who were standing on the sidelines looking very serious) clapped in exaggerated politeness, exclaiming to one another about what a fine shot it was.

I chuckled at the act. It was precisely what this troupe was best known for. They imitated the habits of high society but made them ridiculous and funny.

“Your turn,” the girl said, waving us forward.

Elise looked up at me, her brow lifting as if asking if I’d like to participate in this charade or not.

If it was a distraction Elise wanted, this certainly qualified.

“Very well,” I proclaimed, then swept Elise’s legs out from under her and cradled her in my arms. “She shall be my crooked stick. Where is the ball?”

I was gratified to hear Elise chuckling as I ran up to the little boy who had done forward rolls and swung her feet until they tapped his backside. I could have put her down, especially when the troupe declared us the winners, but I was more than happy to keep her tucked in my arms where I could ensure her safety.

A horn sounded, and when a servant called for us to gather, I was forced to set Elise back on her feet as we all made our way to the front steps of the palace. Elise’s hand started to shake in mine, so I leaned down and whispered, “Time to be the Starling.”

She took a careful breath through her nose and nodded. She released my hand and lifted her chin before stepping boldly, almost regally, onto the steps. I stayed a step behind her, recognizing that she needed to appear confident and independent as we entered the palace.

23

Elise

The nobility sat at tables around the exterior of the room, while the performers sat on cushions in front of low tables. The duke and duchess sat at the high table, facing all of us in their elaborate high-backed chairs. Between the performers and the high table was a large empty space where I had to assume we would be performing.

I watched the high table, nervous about eating my own meal before the duke and duchess had started theirs. Though plenty of people were putting food into their mouths, unconcerned, I still watched, curious if royals ate in some sort of fancy way. A servant set a bowl in front of them, which they used to dip their hands before drying them on towels offered to them by other servants. Then they leaned back and allowed two more servants to drape napkins across their laps. Only then did they pick up their food and start to eat.

My eyes darted about the room, making sure that my brothers still sat on the other side of the great hall, Daggon’s wife looking more shocked and out of place than they did. I had to continually remind myself to keep my Starling bearing in place. If I were to slouch and hide the way I wanted to, it would be all the more suspicious. The Starling did not cower. I started searching all the faces, wondering if anyone in the room besides Hatcher and Robert knew who I was and my connection to the Wolfe brothers. If so, would they say something? Could I really keep my identity a secret, especially when I would be asked to perform at some point? I raised my hand to touch the headpiece, with its feathers falling in my eyes and the fabric covering my hair, hoping it was enough.

Hatcher placed his hand over mine, and when I looked at him, he mouthed the word “Breathe.” As I slowly filled my lungs with air and then let it out, I saw Robert working his way through the room, doing card tricks and sleight of hand. Hatcher followed my gaze and then rolled his eyes. “He’s an invited guest of the duke and duchess, and yet he can’t stop pulling attention to himself.”

I shrugged. “He’s a born performer.” That wasn’t what bothered me, though. What bothered me was that he’d made me believe he was my friend, and yet when I looked back on our interactions, his concern had always been for his wants, his entertainment and notoriety. Never mine.

We returned to our meal, and I did my best to enjoy it while keeping my brothers in sight. They moved about the room as well, though Daggon’s wife seemed content to stay seated.

“What are your brothers’ names?” Hatcher asked as we watched them approach the high table, offering something to the duchess.

“Daggon is the one handing something to Her Grace. He’s more hot-tempered, while Morley tends to be more thoughtful.”

“So Morley wasn’t as mean?”

I grimaced and shook my head, watching as Daggon left the high table and Morley stayed behind, no doubt to flatter the duchess. “He was just a different kind of mean. Less volatile, more calculated.”

Hatcher’s fist clenched where it sat on the table and his nostrils flared.

It was my turn to cover his hand with mine. “It’s all right.”

“Nothing they did was all right.”

“No, but I’m all right now.”

He blew out a breath, then turned to me. “Yes, you are.”

Robert chose that moment to lean in between us, one arm outstretched to present the spray of cards in his hand. “Pick a card, friends. Maybe it will be the lucky one.”