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As the driver sets the vehicle rolling forward, a sense of vertigo comes over me. I close my eyes and fling my arms out to the sides, seeking any kind of handhold. One of my gloved hands comes to the closed door, while the other is suddenly caught in a strong grasp. Opening my eyes, I find Dante grinning over at me, my hand clasped in his.
Heat rises to my cheeks as I—as calmly as I can—extract my palm from its temporary refuge and place both hands in my lap instead. Then, scowling at Dante, I say, “I dislike cars because they’re unnecessary and vile.”
His grin widens. “Oh, come on. It can’t be much different from a horse-drawn carriage.”
I lift a finger and begin ticking them off one by one. “They’re louder, smellier, and scarier. And they make me dizzy.”
“What about trains? Considering the station I just picked you up from, you have no qualms with them.”
“I don’t like trains much either, but they are necessary for swift travel. Cars, on the other hand, are just redundant.”
He lets out an exaggerated gasp. “How could you say that? She’ll hear you.”
I quirk a brow. “She?”
“Yes,” he says, running an affectionate hand over the seat. “I think I’ll call her Bertha.”
“She isn’t…yours, is she? Please don’t tell me you bought this monstrosity.”
He releases a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, Bertha is Albert’s baby now. And yours too, I suppose, once you marry him. Shared assets, and all that. It was literally Albert’s first request upon arriving on the isle. When he saw that carriages still outnumber automobiles here, he demanded I purchase a car in his name so he can ride aroundin styleonce he resumes his proper place.”
I cast a glance at the driver. Unlike in a coach, the man operating the vehicle sits only a few feet in front of us, so I have no doubts that he can hear our conversation.
Dante must read the concern in my eyes. “Digby is with us. He’s one of the prince’s guards, so he knows everything. Including the fact that you now know the truth.”
“Ah.” For some reason, a delighted thrill runs through me at how he sayswith us, reminding me that I’m one of the very few people who know about his mission. Not only that, but Dante trusted me enough to inform others that I’ve been let in on the secret. A smile begins to form on my lips, so I hide it behind a question. “Do you mean to say automobiles outnumber carriages in Bretton?”
He nods. “They have for several years now. Bretton is number one when it comes to vehicle manufacture. It makes sense that Faerwyvae is behind in that regard, considering the minimal trade between our two countries. After your marriage to the prince, you might see more baby Berthas rolling down the streets.”
“Great,” I mutter, placing a hand over my churning stomach. I glance out the window to see if it will steady my nausea. Flat green fields extend out in every direction, with only a few sparse hills in the distance. Today’s public outing for me and the false prince is the Zephyrus Derby, the most popular race in all of Faerwyvae. It’s held at Galewood Downs in the countryside about an hour from the train station we just departed from. People travel from all over the isle to the Wind Court in anticipation of the occasion, which makes it the perfect place to show off my dress and my feigned premarital bliss.
“You look stunning, by the way.” Dante’s eyes rove from the hem of my black-and-white striped skirt to the asymmetrical gathered waist, then rest briefly on the deep V-neck bodice. He flicks his gaze to mine, and a flush of color darkens his cheeks.
Did I just…fluster him with my mere hint of cleavage? If he were anyone else, I’d slump my shoulders, turn away, or do anything to rebuff what might be a sign of budding attraction. But he’s not anyone else. He’s a spy. An actor. Even if he truly did find my feminine assets pleasing for a spare moment, it doesn’t matter because we both know what our arrangement is. It’s temporary. Fake. Safe.
So instead of doing what I might have done with any other hot-blooded male, I sit a little taller, letting my chest lift even higher, and flourish the cuff of my ruched silk sleeves. “Do you like my buttons? I sewed them on last minute.”
“They’re lovely. Although you should have used emeralds instead. They’d bring out your eyes.”
I huff a laugh and try not to read too much into the way my heart gives a dainty flutter.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter if you tried to bring out your eyes,” he says, sliding his gaze to the top of my head, “for that is a very large hat.”
“Why, thank you,” I say, giving the brim an affectionate pat, much like he did the seat of the car.
His lips curl into a smirk. “I didn’t realize that was a compliment.”
I lift my chin and give him a knowing look. “It is where we’re going.”
* * *
At the endof our hour-long journey, the driver pulls up before the main entrance to Galewood Downs amongst the coaches and even a few other automobiles. This time Dante allows Mr. Digby to open the door for us, as befitting a prince. As we exit, my eyes fall on the cane Dante once again carries. I can’t help being reminded of the alley and the impressive way he turned the stick into a weapon, even before he revealed its hidden blade. Hopefully, he’ll have no reason to use the cane in such a way today.
Dozens of other parties exit their vehicles or stroll up the steps to the front doors. A wave of anxiety washes over me in anticipation of mingling amongst society for only the second time since the scandal struck, and this event is far more social than a quaint dinner at a new restaurant. As soon as Dante offers his arm and gives me a reassuring wink, my nerves settle. As long as I’m seen at my prince’s side, there will be no room for scandal in others’ minds. Especially with how sharp my escort looks today. I admit he makes for a delectable piece of eye candy, with his crystal blue eyes, lean figure, and sun-kissed golden hair. It’s then I realize this is my first time seeing the spy in full daylight. Our first two encounters were at night, cast in shadows and dim electric bulbs.
“Shall we?” He gestures with his still-waiting arm, making me realize I’ve yet to take it.
I place my hand at his elbow, and we join the flow of foot traffic into the main building. Beyond the front doors is a flurry of activity, with lines of people stretching before the betting windows and concession stands.
