Eliza seemed to take the excuse at face value, just as she’d readily accepted the lie Aria had given about her visit to Northglen.Morton turned me away at the door, Aria had said.I guess she changed her mind.Eliza had huffed and puffed about the woman’s selfishness and foolishness, leaving Aria with a churning stomach and a secret she couldn’t speak, not even to the one person she would have toldanythingto.
The sister she would lose if she couldn’t find a way out of this curse.
Aria forced a smile, gesturing to her wardrobe. “Help me choose a gown?”
Eliza could have complained that Aria hadn’t commissioned one for the event—as she’d intended to—but the birthday girl threw open the wardrobe without hesitation.
Alternating the leg she stood on and rotating the opposite ankle, Aria managed to keep herself awake somehow. “Come on, let’s hear them.”
“Hear what?” Eliza called innocently.
“The young men of court you’ll be seeking out tonight.”
Peeking out of the wardrobe, arms draped in fabric, Eliza gave a devious smile. “Lord Alexander, I think. Did you know he saved his sister fromdrowninglast winter? He’s a hero!”
Aria made a face. “That’s Marquess Haskett’s heir. Even if his sonisa hero, you don’t want a vulture for a father-in-law.”
“Psh!” Eliza waddled over to the bed and dumped her chosen garments with a grand flourish. “Obstacles are expected on the road to true love! And I am such a gem, I could win the esteem of the crustiest of vultures.”
Aria laughed. Her sister scurried over, hooked her arm, and dragged her to survey the gowns. For a few precious moments, Aria managed to push down her fatigue in earnest—notbanishingit, but at least shrinking it, hushing it—enough to soak in the bright, energizing sunlight that was Eliza.
“This one!” Eliza declared after an extended debate. The winner was a cream-colored gown with black-vine accents, which she deemed “the most elegant dress ever made.” It was one of Aria’s favorites, and she tried not to think of how it would sag on her rapidly thinning frame.
At least the ball wouldn’t last all night. In Patriamere, royal parties began in the late evening and lasted until dawn,something Aria’s father called a “useless indulgence.” He rejected any tradition aligning with his wife’s birth country, so Loegrian parties were afternoon affairs, finished by early evening so the entire castle could adhere to the king’s strict schedule of retiring early.
Good news for Aria, since she’d not yet heard panicked questions about the unexplained sleeping Cast which set in every night at midnight and lasted until dawn. Surely the night watchmen had noticed, but if they’d brought their concerns to the king, he’d not brought the matter to the court’s attention.
Eliza suddenly seized her hands, and Aria blinked herself to attention. “This ball is for you, Aria,” she said with an unusual level of seriousness.
Aria smiled wryly. “I believe it is, in the most literal sense, foryou.”
“The cake is for me, and I’ll be eating plenty, thank you.” Eliza squeezed her hands. “But don’t you see? Today is your chance to find yourownsuitor. I know Father’s been pressuring you about it—Jenny said all the servants are gossiping—but don’t you dare let him choose for you!”
Right.That.Aria had tried to revisit her list of potentials, but after a few names, she always dropped to sleep.
Neglecting duty. Mark.
“Eliza, I—”
“I have a feeling about this, I mean it! This afternoon, you’re going to find the most perfect man of court, one who really lets you be yourself. You’ll dance and fall madly in love, have seven children—”
Partly to interrupt that thought, Aria pulled Eliza into a hug, breathing in the lavender scent of her sister.
“I promise I’ll remedy my situation,” she whispered. Though it was not suitors she spoke of.
With a squeal, Eliza hugged her back, gushing about how themost romantic gestures always happened at a ball and the vast multitude of men there would be available to choose from.
Aria had only one man in mind, and he was not at alla candidate for suitor. After twenty days of siege, she had grown desperate enough to try an unthinkable tactic. Since books had failed her, she began seeking information on Casting from its source, only to find the two Casters in Sutton Town had abandoned their homes, perhaps warned by Widow Morton of the princess who might come seeking aid.
However, there would be one Caster attending Eliza’s ball.
Guillaume Reeves, son of Marcus Reeves. The late baron had passed away, leaving a Caster to inherit his title, and Eliza’s ball was the first court function after his mourning season. He would have to present himself to the king.
Though Aria’s knees trembled at the thought of seeking out another Caster, she squeezed her sister tightly and reminded herself why she had to.
This time, she would not fall for a trap.
She would set one.
