“I mean.” A thousand bees swarmed my stomach. “I mean, you’re Sam’s confidant, are you not?” I asked. “Do you think he will like it?”
“The Prince?”He looked at the bed.
Josie spoke next. “I’m not sure Lord Evergreen would know that, Miss Svana,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t he?” I asked. “They’re friends.”
“Men hardly speak of such things,” she explained. “Not when there is so much else to discuss. Now, if we could find a lady that Sam was close with, we might draw a closer answer.”
“Of course, they talk about fashion,” I dared her. She wasn’t convinced, so I shelved my hand at Cyrus to emphasize his clothes.“Lookat him, Jocelyn. Look at the Prince. Sam wears his body weight in rings, and Lord Evergreen is perpetually expecting royalty! See?”
Cyrus laughed. “I’m ina palace,”he said.
“What?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m dressed to expect royalty because I’m in a palace,” he said slower.
“Ah,” Josie said. She tapped the hilt of the brush to her other hand. “Then you do discuss fashion, and I am mistaken, sir. I see you don’t need my help either. So never mind me at all.”
“Well?”I asked the lord.
“Well, what? Will Sam like your tablecloth?” he asked.
“Yes!” I cried. “My god, it’s like pulling teeth from you, isn’t it?”
“She means that politely,” Josie hummed.
“No, I do not,” I said, but at the same time, I sighed. “I mean, yes, of course. Of course, I meant it politely. It’s just… Doyoulike it? Or do you think the Prince will like it? Or have I wasted my time with it all? Will I offend everyone with such a disaster? I can’t do that! I’ll be the laughing stock of all of Chalke and–”
“I like it,” he said.
“You liar!” I cried.
“Now I’m a liar?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not. I like it. It’s… It’s very elegant.”
Josie went between us another time to the armoire and then back with shoes as she compared the color to the skirt. She said, “You will be the talk of the ball, Your Highness. Not the joke. I’m sure of it, and I’m quite certain the Prince will not be able to look at anyone but you.”
“I don’t know aboutthat,”I replied, ringing the back of my neck and still internally begging for it to be true. “Do you think so?”
“Of course,” she said.“Don’t you agree, my lord?”she asked.
We both sought his response.
He said, “…There will be no face so fair for miles.”
Then I met his deep, steely eyes another time.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he begged. “I do have somewhere to be.”
“Yes. Of course,” I said. I straightened. “Thank you.”
Lord Evergreen left before I could offer anything more to my gratitudeandbefore I could apologize for keeping him for it. And before I could acknowledge his comment about my fairness, which disrupted me too devotedly.
No face, so fair for miles.I asked about mydress.
For a fleeting moment, I forgot what it was that terrorized me about Lord Evergreen in the first place. I thought only about the way he struck the dummy form—the way his body bent with every attack. Then my throat was parched, butthen!Then hisstupidmarket lies stole my praise.
Angry, I chased Lord Evergreen’s waning shadow, my heels clicking after him into the hall.
