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Edmund’s smirk was twinkling in his eyes, which looked blue tonight in the candlelight and paired with his black coat and blue neckcloth. “Just my scheme to steal your heart. Is it working?”
“When you pull out inane lines like that, no.” Jalissa pressed her mouth into a line to suppress her laughter. “I expect better from Escarland’s spy prince. Besides, your timing is terrible. This dance is almost over.”
“That line was rather cliché, wasn’t it?” Edmund bowed to her as the dance finished. Then he took her hand again, and they swept off the floor. Somehow, Edmund managed to tuck them into a shadowed corner before anyone caught them to draw them into a conversation or ask to dance. He leaned closer and whispered into her ear, “But that doesn’t make it any less true. You are the prettiest lady here. Not to mention that you are intelligent, observant, poised, magical, and so much more.”
It was a good thing they were in a sheltered corner where Jalissa could lean into him because her knees were going weak. It wasn’t just because of his compliments or his nearness. But the look in his green-blue eyes said that he trulysawher.
Their wedding could not come soon enough.
Before things could get too romantic—they were still in a public setting, after all—Jalissa pulled back a step and tilted her head in the direction of the lord’s study. “Do you have anything interesting to report?”
“While I think the tax office might want to take a deeper look into Lord Etchworth’s finances because I don’t believe his reported income is accurate, I don’t think he’s a traitor beyond simply wanting to make extra coin on some black market smuggling to get around the new tariffs with Mongavaria.” Edmund’s shrug was so subtle only an elf would notice it. “But some of his friends, Lord Farnley in particular, seemed a little shifty whenever Mongavaria came up.”
“Hmm. Lord Farnley’s wife was particularly quiet.” Jalissa searched the ballroom. The lady in question had drifted into another group and did not appear to be participating in that conversation anymore than she had in the one with Jalissa.
“It is worth investigating further.” Edmund’s mask smile flickered a moment to let a hint of his real smirk come through. “But for tonight, I think we’ve done enough investigating. Let’s step out into the garden and get a breath of fresh air.”
“Yes, please.” Jalissa fell into step with him as he headed for the nearby double doors. Of course, Edmund had positioned them close by, as if he had already been planning their escape outside from the moment the dance ended.
Footmen opened the doors for them, and the cool night air wrapped around them as they stepped onto a small brick patio surrounded by hedges and a small section of garden. A fountain bubbled in the center while a few other couples strolled among the plants, taking a respite from the noise and heat of the crowded ballroom.
Jalissa drew in a deep breath, the air laced with the damp scent of dew-covered greenery. While she did not fear crowded ballrooms the way Farrendel did, she was relieved to step away into the night-kissed garden. “This is better.”
“Yes.” Edmund sounded distracted, and when she glanced at him, his gaze was focused upward. “The light is back on in the study.”
Jalissa glanced around the garden, then tugged Edmund into the shadows next to the townhouse wall. She knew that look. So much for no more investigating. “Do you want to eavesdrop? I can convince the ivy to get you up there.”
Edmund’s smirk was answer enough. He gripped the ivy as she pressed her fingers to the plants. She stood so that her body shielded the faint glow coming from her hands. The other couples in the gardens were too busy kissing or talking to look their way, but she did not want to draw their attention.
The vines wrapped around Edmund and lifted him into the air beside the wall. It must have been a strange sensation, but he did not make a sound.
She halted the vines just below the window, holding them in place.
Edmund peeked over the windowsill. The window must have already been cracked open because he nudged it slightly more open.
Jalissa held her breath and cocked her ear, trying to keep half her attention on the others in the garden in case someone spotted her or Edmund while also listening to the faint voices coming from the window high above. With her elven hearing, she could just make out the conversation that Edmund was listening to.
“…been sniffing around. He and that elf princess of his have been at every party I’ve been at in the past three weeks.” Jalissa thought the voice might belong to Lord Farnley. She and Edmund had spoken to him several times over the past few parties they had attended.
“They are courting. It could be an attempt by the crown to court public opinion.” Lord Etchworth’s voice was slightly slurred as if the man had consumed too many glasses of the brandy that had been flowing freely that evening. “The royal family’s reputation has taken a battering.”
“Yes, but Prince Edmund never spent much time in the public eye. He rarely attended events before this.”
“He could be taking a more active role now that Princess Elspeth has stepped back from being the face of the royal family. Don’t worry about it.”
“I still don’t like it. The crown is likely to take a hard line on some things after Bletchly’s bungling.”
As if it was the crown’s fault for punishing traitors instead of the fault of the traitors for betraying their kingdom.
A noise caught Jalissa’s attention. A couple, the woman giggling as the man pulled her closer, were headed in Jalissa’s direction. Likely looking for a dark corner.
Jalissa poured more of her magic into the ivy and yanked Edmund back down fast enough to earn her a muffled grunt of surprise. She slowed him just before his feet touched the ground.
“Jalissa, what—”
No time to explain. Jalissa banished the ivy back to its normal size with one hand and gripped the front of Edmund’s shirt with the other. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him, just before the other couple stepped through the hedge into their shadowed corner.
The woman’s giggling halted immediately. The man coughed. “My apologies, Your Highnesses.”
