It’s a wonderful idea.
I don’t even know what it’s an invitation for. I am not going.
She chomped an oversized bite of lettuce, but was saved from her mother’s chastisement when Thera slipped back into the room. The maid held the invitation aloft like it was a feather. It appeared to place no strain on her upturned palm.
Odd,considering the weight of the thing.
“We waited to read it until you returned,” Lord Kahoth offered in his low voice.
“There is no way that is true, Dad.” She didn’t believe for one second that her parents would sit on a letter from Kirce without immediately tearing into it.
She was pretty sure her mother kicked her father beneath the table, so she did not get a response.
Hevva flipped open the seal, which had indeed been opened already—dads were silly things—and began to read aloud. While the duke and duchess almost certainly knew its contents, Kas didn’t. And if there was one thing Kas couldn’t stand, it was not knowing information. So, she humored him.
“‘Lady Hevva Tilevir, Countess of Kabuvirib, The Royal Court of Selwas requests the pleasure of your company to celebrate...’”In spite of her best efforts, she stopped reading aloud and skimmed the rest of the page. “There’s a birthday celebration for Prince Nekash. A weeklong house party at Kirce. It begins in eleven days’ time. I don’t think I will be going to this. Why am I the only one invited?”
“Because it’s not a birthday party,” Kas chimed in. “Ithink it’s a wife finding party. For the king.”
Hevva choked on her wine.
“Youwillbe going,” her father commented, his tone leaving no room for compromise. “You hardly have to marry the king, but you are a countess. You will be a duchess, Hevva. You can’t turn down this invitation. It would be a terrible slight to the Crown.”
“That gives us a week to prepare.” Her mother beamed. If there was one thing Lady Tilevir loved, it was preparing for an aristocratic event. “You will need an entirely new wardrobe, of course!” She tapped her fingerstogether excitedly.
This is how Dad lost his fortune.It was regained, decades ago now. But it had taken the duke a solid two years of hard work and oneverylucky bet to refill the family coffers. Or so he told her. Now he held his ground.
“Three dresses will suffice,” her father spoke firmly, giving her mother’s hand a little squeeze.
Lady Tilevir pouted.
“I have plenty of gowns that haven’t been seen in Serkath, or any fine company.” Hevva pacified her mother with a smile.
“Oh! Well, which ones? We’ll need to lay them all out. Immediately,of course.” The duchess glanced pointedly at Thera, who again slipped from the room, before swinging her gaze back to land upon her daughter. She nearly clapped from excitement. Hevvasawher mother’s hands quiver, but the action would’ve been too uncouth for Lady Anrei Tilevir. Unable to stop the crinkles that settled in at the corners of her pale eyes, or the way her fingertips tapped a joyous rhythm, she continued, “Then we’ll decide what needs to be ordered. Oh! And! You must need at least one new pair of slippers. And jewels. We’ll need to consider both my collection and yours.”
Hevva returned her mother’s wide smile with a soft one of her own.
A nice common boy.Her mantra rang tinny and faint as she was swept up in preparations.
thirteen
Hevva goes exploring.
Her gown was stunninglyiridescent, variating between blues and purples, depending on the lighting and the fall of her silks. With hair perfectly pinned and coiffed, makeup pristine, shoulders drawn back, and her chin held high, she looked the very picture of a countess. But Lady Hevva had never felt more out of place in her life.
Sure, she’d attended a hundred of these stuffy, choreographed events. And sure, she knew exactly what she was supposed to do and when to do it, but that didn’t mean she wanted to.
Something terrible had happened to her.
Maybe “terrible” was an exaggeration. But after Hevva met Saka, she had a hard time going back to her status quo. It was definitely Saka’s fault.Shewas the tiniest bit wilder than any of Hevva’s prior alter egos. She was slightly more Hevva-like than anyone she’d become before.
That was the issue.
Lyria was a fantastic whist player who might have one glass of wine but preferred a clear mind for the game. Ingrid was often found near the shore, a beachcomber who enjoyed hunting for shells and loved fishing even more. Fishermen always had the best stories. The things they found out at sea? Fantastical stuff.
Then there was Saka. She wanted to down a pint and watch a solid fight unfold. Maybe twirl on some cobblestones until dizzy, the worldspinning around her like a whirlwind. Lady Hevva Tilevir, Countess of Kabuvirib had, onmanyprior occasions, gallivanted among the common folk using one alias or another. But before meeting Saka, she’d never tossed all inhibitions to the wind or kissed any kings.
At present, she was trying not to think too hard about that fact, which kept unhelpfully parading through her mind. She was also losing a battle of wills with herself, as the small voice in the back of her head grew louder, shouting over and over that she was wrong, it wasn’t Saka’s fault.
