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“Again, I do not doubt it. But how does one achieve it?”

“As with all things I can only assume it is through effort,” she said. “If the idea of marriage alone does not inspire you to apply such effort then maybe you, like Aphrodite, can be moved by only one man.”

“Who?”

“How am I supposed to know that? You only get that answer by accepting the introductions, balls, and walks.” She grinned, rising to her feet as she clasped her hands together. “So, now our footing has been set. You and I will go to every possible event of the season to find our husbands.”

Why did I feel as though I had walked in a circle?

“How is this any different from where you started the conversation?” I asked her.

“It is very different, how we both have greater direction going forward. You do not seem to care for title or status at all so you may look at whoever makes your breath catch, as Mama says. I shall do the same but with a duke. Our first opportunity comes this evening at the concert.” She made not an ounce of sense but was clearly proud of this non-plotted plot.

I could only shake my head at her.

Knock. Knock.

“Enter,” Hathor said before I could. The same freckle-faced maid from the night prior entered, basin of hot water in her hands and towels over her arm and another maid behind her with breakfast.

“Good morning, my ladies.” Bernice and the other maid curtsied to us.

“Good morning, Bernice,” Hathor said to her before she focused on me. “I shall leave. I must try on dresses for tonight. Please prepare yourself, for I shall not slow down for your sake.”

With that, she left, with just as much ease as she came, leaving me a bit stunned as to what I had experienced.

“Is she always like that?” I asked the maid as she set the basin upon the vanity.

“Like what?”

That was answer enough.

“Lady Hathor, she is rather…unrelenting.”

“Yes, my lady, she is,” she said with a pleasant smile. I thought myself very good at reading people, and I had read Hathor to be rather spoiled, envious, and silly—like most young ladies. I did not think she had much depth to her. However, upon finally speaking to her like this, I realized she was a lot more…substantive than I had given her credit for.

“My lady?” Bernice called once more to get my attention.

Meeting her gaze, I nodded, moving to sit at the vanity. I wished to ask her more about not just Hathor but everyone in the family. I wished to know what they were truly like before I faced them for the day’s events. But I remembered what my governess had taught me: Servants serve, not advise. So, I simply outstretched my hand for the towel she held and said nothing more.

Getting ready took much longer than I had expected because of my conversation with Hathor. It was not as if Evander had not brought up the topic of marriage once or twice before, but it was quite easy to deflect that conversation with him. A simple mention of his great love or a line of wit and his focus was elsewhere. That left me free to go about my day, which mainly consisted of watching over him and his daughter, Emeline, or writing letters to my younger half brother, Gabrien. However, as Hathor said, it was now Aphrodite’s duty to see to my brother’s affairs. And I could not possibly spend the rest of my life simply writing letters to Gabrien, who would eventually return home if only to beg me to cease.

So that left me with nothing else to do except to get married. But watching as Bernice brought out dresses for me to choose from, worrying if she’d reach my box or see my journal, I could not imagine such a life. Any efforts to do so made chills move up my arms and into my shoulders. Clearly, that was not a path for me. I doubted any man could change my mind simply by making my breath catch.

What did that mean anyway? That at the mere sight of my one true love I would forget to breathe? That was hardly a fairy tale. I thought back on all of the men I knew, unrelated to me of course, not one had ever stirred any emotion at all in me—

“You are keeping me, my lady.”

I coughed as the tea I was drinking entered my throat wrong.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Bernice asked, turning back to me.

“Yes, fine, that dress, fine,” I muttered, pointing randomly. Why had I thought that? “You are keeping me, my lady.” It was what that physician…Dr. Darrington, had said to me before ever so rudely shutting the door in my face, within my own home, as he sought to treat my brother for an injury. A frown came to my lips as I thought of him.

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