There were a lot of couples in this room. I wanted to follow Georgiana and Lizzy, but I couldn’t offend the Trents before I even spoke to them. So I let out a slow breath, steeled myself, and joined them.
“Oh Darcy! You made it!” Rosalie exclaimed as if she hadn’t seen me just the day before. Her blonde hair had been curled into light, bouncy ringlets. She threw her arms around my neck and stepped back. “Did I ever tell you I’m a hugger? Mom and Dad, you’re familiar with Darcy.”
We shook hands and exchanged polite greetings. Mr. and Mrs. Trent were elegant people, both dressed in stylish pantsuits, but they had an austere look about them. Mrs. Trent sat on the council, so I figured she resembled those fae entrenched in appearances and position.
“We are so glad to be here tonight,” Mrs. Trent said. “I trust by the end of the evening we can assuage any reluctance you might feel toward our daughter, Your Highness.”
I forced a smile. “You have raised a fine daughter, Mrs. Trent. I hope a wonderful time is had by all.”
Kind, but noncommittal. The signature tenants of a royal answer.
“Yes, let us move into the dining area,” Lady Catherine commanded. And she stepped ahead to be at the front of the procession into the large room.
Rosalie took my arm, and I cast a glance at Lizzy. For a moment, our eyes met, but then she spun away and joined the line behind Georgiana and Henry.
Warm, rosy light bathed the grand dining hall of Rosings. The massive chandelier above the long oak table had been enchanted to glow in heart-shaped patterns, casting a gentle, intimate shimmer across polished silverware and crystal glasses.
We walked into the room, and Lady Catherine began telling each person where to sit. I ended up with Rosalie on one side and Ernesto on the other. Georgiana, Henry, and Lizzy took their seats with us, and directly across from me sat the Trents. As always, Aunt Catherine manned the head of the table.
The dining space itself was a vision of romance: a centerpiece of floating rose blooms drifted along the length, with candles that hovered above silver holders, flickering without heat. Small glass vials of sweet-smelling confetti—rose petals, tiny glittering hearts, and shimmering sugar crystals—occasionally drift from the centerpiece to the edge of the table, as if sprinkling love onto the diners.
Despite the whimsical atmosphere, my aunt’s no-nonsense presence still permeated the gathering. As the dinner progressed, my aunt, as usual, dominated the scene. Rosalie kept trying to ask me questions, but all I desired to do was get through the meal so that I could get Mrs. Trent alone. I gave Rosalie small, single-word answers throughout dinner.
“And what of your family, Ms. Bennet?” My aunt’s voice drifted over the dinner table, louder than any side conversation. “I heard there have been some very questionable dealings going on when it comes to your mother.”
Lizzy looked up, dread passing across her face. My jaw tightened, ready to intervene.
“Mama,” Anne said from her spot next to Aunt Catherine. “I don’t think this is—”
But my aunt held up her palm, laser targeted on Lizzy. “I would hear her answer.”
The room fell silent, and everyone turned to Lizzy. She raised her chin a little, proving she had this in hand.
“Whatever those dealings are, I hardly think this is the proper place to bring it up or speak of it,” Lizzy said.
She was clever. Mentioning the propriety of the question was the quickest way to shut it down.
Lady Catherine frowned. “How disappointing, but considering your lineage, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised by your questionable background.”
I put my hand on the table harder than planned, causing the entire surface to shake. “That’s enough, Aunt.”
Georgiana, who was also looking outraged, gave me a small nod.
Forks paused midair. No one spoke. Lizzy, whose face had gone crimson, watched me with wide eyes. “Lizzy is one of the best people I know,” I said quietly yet firmly. “And her magic abilities are equal to any fae. I refuse to sit here while you insult a guest that was invited into your home this way.”
Lady Catherine glared at me, anger sparking in her gaze. The Trents, including Rosalie, were looking between me and Lizzy.
“Tell me, Mr. and Mrs. Trent,” Ernesto cut in with an easy smile, “do you enjoy the symphony?”
“Mrs. Trent and I attend the occasional performance,” Mr. Trent replied, a good-natured expression appearing across his face.
“Yes, I have a concert coming up at de Bourgh Hall.” Anne picked up. She brushed her long dark hair aside and nodded eagerly. “You should attend.”
And the room gradually went back to normal.
I sat back, focusing on my meal, trying to get the fire in my chest to calm and unwilling to see if my words had any effect on Lizzy.
Chapter 9
