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Perita clicked her tongue and came to Cassia, taking both her hands and sitting her down at the dressing table. “Didn’t I tell Callen you wouldn’t get a wink of sleep last night? You’ve been pacing all night, haven’t you, trying to think of a way out of it before today dawns.”
“What’s today?” Cassia asked blankly.
“You know you don’t have to put on an act for me, my lady. This is the thirty-first of Kyria’s Loom, and I know how you must have been dreading it.”
“Of course. Weaving Day. When the women of Tenebra finish the new blankets for the cold weather, and men tie up their debts and agreements in case Hypnos takes them before winter ends. The day the king and Lord Titus will finalize my betrothal to Flavian.”
“I know all you can think about is Lord Pretty Breeches the Elder and His Majesty sitting down over a pint and dooming your future with Lord Fancy Soap. Here, stand up for me, my lady. I have to get you dressed.”
“But there are no Summit events tonight.”
Perita sighed. “I have done everything I can to talk them out of it, but they are determined. Your well-wishers are just down the hall, waiting to come in with food and drink to celebrate your betrothal.”
“Benedict,” Cassia accused.
“I’m afraid so. He’s had a gift hidden for you in his packs all this time.” Perita patted Cassia’s shoulder. “Shall I tell them you’re ill?”
Cassia swallowed. “They’re trying to be kind. Help me get ready.”
Within half an hour, Benedict descended upon Cassia’s sitting room leading a party of merry Kyrian mages and a solemn Callen.
With an uncharacteristic flourish, Benedict presented Cassia with a parcel wrapped in velvet and ribbons. “Congratulations, Your Ladyship. It is my honor to be the first to officially welcome you into Segetia’s most noble family.”
Cassia must put it on. The Smile. Her court mask, horribly believable and appealingly false. She had thought it had been difficult to put on the Smile at Solorum during the Greeting. But no, it was so much more arduous to wear it now, here, in Orthros. She felt she betrayed Lio a little more every second she wore the Smile, and she felt she dishonored Benedict’s kindness a little worse the harder it became to keep the expression on her face.
She glanced around her to see if it was even working. The young Kyrians’ eyes gleamed with delight over their veils, the Semna chuckled, and Benedict watched Cassia with anticipation on his face. The Smile might be costly, but Cassia was still good at it.
She accepted his gift, discovering it was quite heavy. She felt the shape inside the velvet. “Has our sober Knight of Andragathos brought me a jug of wine?”
He blushed, smiling. “From His Lordship’s own cellars. My lord Flavian couldn’t be here to toast you, so we shall do it in his stead. I’ve brought a deck of his cards, as well, although we needn’t gamble.”
The Semna patted the basket on Ariadne’s arm. “These resourceful young mages were kind enough to bring some provisions for my health from Kyria’s own larders.”
“Our little secret,” said Pakhne.
Benedict’s customary glower showed itself again. “Eudias shall not be joining us, I might add. He has been persuaded to spend the day among those with whom he came.”
“And that’s all that shall be said ofthemfor the rest of our celebration,” the Semna declared. “We shall not allow all that has happened to disrupt this occasion.”
“Her ladyship may relax among her own,” Benedict assured her.
Cassia told herself this was good practice. If she could get through this day, she could get through another. And another. And another after that.
But what a long day it was. As long as the Autumn Greeting and just as lavish in its own way. Even Lord Gaius stopped by with a bottle of Hadrian spiced wine to congratulate her on her upcoming marriage, although he offered no customary compliments to the groom-to-be.
As moon hours wore on, Callen’s frown deepened, and Perita fussed over Cassia all the more. Knight did not move out of her reach for even a moment. She redoubled her efforts to seem delighted over the Kyrians’ singing and Benedict’s card games. Her fear mounted. What would she do if she lost control and wept in front of everyone?
It was almost veil hours when Benedict rose at last, swaying a little on his feet, and gathered their empty wine cups with deliberate care. “This whole journey has been exceedingly tiring for you, Your Ladyship. We shall depart and leave you to your rest.”
If they hadn’t all been tipsy, they would surely have seen through the good-nights Cassia barely managed to utter. She hid behind Callen’s insistence and Perita’s shooing. As soon as the invaders were gone, she fled into the bedroom and took refuge at the dressing table again.
Perita put her hands on Cassia’s shoulders. “There now. It’s over.”
“For now.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t got any ideas for un-Ladyshipping yourself. You were probably scheming all last night trying to decide how you and your owl will escape the hawk.”
“Scheming?” Cassia asked. “Is that really what I am? A schemer?”
