AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lore wondered just how out of place she looked.
“Ridiculously beautiful, much like the man himself.” Alie arched a pale brow. “At least he put the peacocks in the garden for the afternoon. I hate those things. They’re so loud, I don’t understand how he ever sleeps.”
“I don’t think he sleeps in here much,” said a new voice. In an alcove walled completely in sparkling glass and stuffed with emerald ferns, a woman with jet-colored hair and eyes to match took a sip from a delicate teacup, its pale gleam complementary to her golden-brown skin. “Just hosts parties and carouses.”
“He has to sleep sometime,” the courtier next to her said. Her hair was golden, pin-straight, and worn loose to frame her pale white face and full lips. “Lucien told me his bed is nearly the size of his whole room.”
“Lucien would know.” The other woman smirked and raised her teacup in a salute.
“Let’s please discuss literally anything other than Bastian’s conquests,” Alie said as she tugged Lore over to the others. “It seems rude while we’re in his apartments. Like discussing the quality of the beef while the butcher is right there.”
“Lucien would also know about the quality of the beef,” the dark-haired one said, and it sent them into peals of laughter, even Alie, who playfully swatted at her. She put down her teacup to grab Alie’s hand out of the air and gave it an exaggerated kiss.
Lore managed to smile, though nerves crept in a noose around her neck. These women moved like old friends, like people who had grown up around each other the way old trees grew around fence posts. Their laughter seemed good-natured, and the curious looks the other two gave her weren’t in any way malicious. But such groups had difficulty changing shape to accommodate newcomers.
There was no whiff of belladonna in the tea. That was something, at least.
Delicate china met delicate lips, delicate pastries were sampled by delicate hands. Lore felt like a horse let loose in a jewelry shop.
“Everyone,” Alie said, keeping firm grip on Lore’s arm as if she could feel the urge to run seeping from her pores, “this is Eldelore Remaut, Gabriel’s cousin. Though I’m sure you already know.”
“Lovely to finally meet you, Eldelore. I’m Danielle.” The golden-haired courtier smiled brightly. Her gown was a pale green and cut similarly to Lore’s, though the ribbons trailing from Danielle’s sleeves were wrapped around her upper arms and tied into bows, so they didn’t dangle.
So that’s how you were supposed to wear them. Not hanging so low they made you think you had ants crawling all over you. Lore felt the sudden urge to fix her own, but stilled her hands and nodded instead, returning Danielle’s smile.
“Brigitte,” offered the dark-haired woman who’d kissed Alie’s hand. Her gown was different, peach-colored with fitted sleeves that went to the elbow and ended in a ruffle of lace. Lore vaguely recognized her from the masquerade that first night. She’d been dressed as a mermaid, shimmering green painted into her hair. It still looked siren-like, even now, half of it twisted into a black crown around her head, the rest worn in long locs down her back.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Lore said, taking one of the other seats at the wrought-iron table. “Thank you for letting me crash your party.”
“No crashing needed.” Brigitte took a macaron from the pile in the center of the table. “We were thrilled to finally have the chance. You and Gabriel have been the talk of the Citadel for nearly a month.”
The tingle of nerves traveled from the back of her neck to trail the length of her spine. Lore forced a smile. “Well,” she said, and wasn’t sure how to continue, so she just didn’t.
“Bri and Dani are my dearest friends,” Alienor said, finally taking a seat and pulling over a plate of pastries. “We’ve been close since we were learning our letters. Bri and I took piano together, and Dani’s father is an associate of Lord Bellegarde’s.” No one seemed to find it strange that Alie referred to her father by his title.
Dani shifted in her seat. Lore wondered if her relationship with her father was as apparently frosty as Alie’s was with her own.
“I didn’t want to overwhelm you with a huge party,” Alie continued, selecting something covered in powdered sugar and spearing it with a tiny fork. “Though since one of Bastian’s fetes was your first social engagement, anything will seem small afterward.”
Lore laughed politely, fighting her anxiety’s urging to shove pastries in her mouth one after the other. “It was certainly enlightening.”
Danielle’s smile was genuine, if nakedly curious. “We’ve barely seen you since your dramatic entrance at Bastian’s masquerade, other than your introduction at First Day prayers.” Her tone was still friendly, but something sharp flashed in her eyes. Curiosity, and not a small bit of wariness.
“I’ve been ill,” Lore said, searching for a way to explain her long absence that wasn’t I channeled too much Mortem and then looked for proof of treason in the Church library. In a flash of inspiration, she gestured to her middle. “Cramps.”
“Ah.” Brigitte nodded knowingly. She pushed a cup of tea across the table; it smelled just as bright and delicate as everything looked in this room. “That should help. I have terrible pains when my time comes, too, and so does my brother. It’s awful.”
The sympathy in her voice made Lore almost sorry she was lying. Well, only technically—she might not be bleeding now, but when she did, it felt like someone kicking her repeatedly in the organs. She took a sip of the offered tea. It was surprisingly tasty. “I should be fully recovered in a few days. Then I’ll hopefully be able to look through my stack of invitations. And get in that croquet practice I promised Alie.”
“I’m sure you’ve been invited to everything. It’s not often we have a newcomer.” Danielle picked up a chocolate and popped it in her mouth, speaking around caramel. “Most of us started coming to the Citadel in the summers as children; we’ve known each other for ages.”
“So I’ve heard.” Lore traced threads in her mind, recalling the backstory she and Gabriel had come up with. A country home in… shit, Gabriel had told her a name to use, and she’d completely forgotten it… a childhood sickness that kept her confined…
But the questions, when they came, weren’t about her at all. “So,” Danielle said, leaning forward, eyes darting mischievously between Lore and Alie. “Why is Gabriel really back in court? Is it truly just to escort you?”
Lore nearly choked on her tea. That odd glitter was still in Danielle’s eyes, almost like this was a test.
“Dani.” Alienor sounded halfway between laughing and screaming, with the kind of nervous strain that came from both desperately wanting and not wanting a conversation to happen. “We don’t need to talk about Gabriel. There’s no need to go excavating ancient history.” Though Alie’s blush was the color of the cherry jam in Lore’s pastry, there was a still a hopeful light in her eyes. Lore recognized it. A torch long held. And it made her think of Gabe’s bare chest and how it’d felt pressed warm against her back a week ago and Bleeding God nothing could be simple, could it?
