“Lady Florence,” said Winnie, “youmustcease the condescension.”
Florence blinked. “Condescension?”
We descended the stairs, and Winnie continued. “When you call someone ‘dear’, it comes across as infantilizing.”
“I only mean it with affection. Is this abnormal in Gallae?” asked Florence. “You refer to her by her given name.”
Winnie opened her mouth to make a counterpoint, but could evidently think of nothing more to say and chose the wiser path of silence.
As we closed in on the dining hall, I held my breath. If I was wrong about Angharad, I’d be spending a whole meal next to Winnie, who would undoubtedly serve a hearty portion ofI-told-you-so.
We were among the first to enter; Duke Minnick and Percy were the only others present, but the latter’s eyes latched onto me with magnetism, fixed irreverently on my gown until I found a seat.
“I don’t like that one,” Florence whispered, sitting to the right of Winnie.
I pinched my lips together, then watched the entrance for more newcomers. One by one, they arrived—Lady Maeve Halston and her husband, Lord Davis Halston; Huntmaster Hugh Simon and Lady Diamond Simon; the prince, who took one look at me before turning away, and the viscount, who angrily crossed the dining hall to stand before me.
“You departed in secret,” he scolded, crossing his arms over his doublet. His eyes were severe as he leaned close. “Don’t do that again. If I’m not outside your door, then knock on mine.”
I hesitantly nodded, glancing over to Winnie. She kept her nose up and refrained from making eye contact.
The viscount noticed my outfit shortly after. His scowl gave into a wry smile and he shook his head, saying nothing more before finding his seat.
At last, the queen entered, sat down, and examined the room. She waved for the meal to begin, then double-took back at me, drawing a quiet, sharp breath. I thought she might say something and prepared myself for the worst.
“Mother,” whispered Nicolas, but something stopped him there.
Marquis Trefor Tharon stood in the entrance, patting his noticeably reddened face with a handkerchief. His salt-and-pepper hair had been tousled, and his mustache was slightly ajar; beside him stood his wife in Hadrian clothing, her makeup smeared.
Angharad sheepishly glanced my way, then shuffled with her husband until they found their seats at the opposing table.
The queen held her tongue, possibly at her son’s behest, and the meal went on with little in the way of conversation…yet much was said in the shifting of stares, the enlarging of eyes, the unspoken judgment, and the sorority of Angharad’s upheld promise.
Once the meal ended, I went to her and pulled her into a hug. She smelled of sweat and something male that she’d attempted to mask with perfume and powder.
“Thank the gods,” I whispered. “I was worried I had asked something impossible of you.”
Angharad scoffed. “My husband swore he’d never let me go out like this.”
“Whatever did you do to change his mind? You must tell me your secret.”
The most devious of grins spread over Angharad’s lips, and I quickly retracted my statement. Before a single, lascivious detail could spill—and by the foul gesture she performed with her finger, I knew it would be quite the scandal—the other court ladies gathered around. I was certain that they’d all looked disgusted, maybe even horrified, but now…
“Absolutelydaring!” Lady Diamond spoke, placing a hand over her chest as if to withhold from fainting. “Never before have I seen such a statement! It says… Why, it says—”
“Power!” joined Lady Maeve. “It says, ‘I am above the reproach of lesser men and women.’”
Similar praises washed over us both from other ladies of the court, the men making themselves small and disappearing as swiftly as they could. Even the prince departed, though he lingered a while as if he had something to say; I pretended I didn’t notice him.
The final men to remain were Quinn, by necessity as my guardsman, and Percy, who took his time nursing his wine. He appeared to be amused by some internal monologue, and when hetook the last sip, he stood so that his chair screamed against the floor, pulling all eyes to him.
“If this commoner had shown up in such clothing on her first day here, you would have torn her to shreds.” Percy’s voice dripped with derision. “Women are such fickle things, are they not, Lady of the Woods?”
I bit my tongue, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. They most certainly would have disapproved of this dress under different circumstances. If Angharad hadn’t acted in solidarity, they might still have turned their noses up at me. All of their compliments and praise diluted into what they truly were: flattery.
When Percy reached the doorway, he turned back with a cold smile. “It is amazing how long a farce can continue when everyone pretends not to see it for what it really is. Though all plays must end eventually.”
“Percy,” Quinn warned from his seat.
