“It’s too much, and you ride that dreaded horse every chance you get. You will have to at least pretend to be quiet and demure when you live with Duke Howard.” Her mother looked at her in concern. “Promise me? I don’t want to hear anything about the horses or hear that you spend every spare moment ignoring your husband with your nose buried in a book.”
Elizabeth grimaced. “It sounds like I won’t have a choice about the horses, and why can’t I read? It’s a quiet hobby. Silent, actually.”
Her mother tutted. “A wife’s first duty is to her husband, not her own diversions, and I’ll remind you that men do not like a well-read woman, they’ll think you’ll start getting ideas. With the current climate,” her mother glanced meaningfully at her. “I don’t want you appearing too opinionated or educated.”
“We are nobles, Mama. They would not think to accuseusof magic.”
“Let us not tempt fate. Promise me.”
“Fine, Mama.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I promise to only read a modest amount and not to ride horses when I’m at Howard ManorifI’m unfortunate enough to be forced to go through with the match.”
“Excellent.” Her mother’s smile warmed.
They ventured through the streets of Briarton, making their way to the marketplace.
Loud and boisterous, the market was easy to spot. It was packed today with people peering at displays of goods. Carts overflowed with flowers, stands brimmed with fresh fruit, and merchants proudly showcased their wares from their booths.
Her mother stopped by a booth to examine a merchant’s latest stock—lustrous, pink Rhodean pearls. Rare and expensive. A brow rose as she scanned the variety and their prices. Her mother looked at the merchant, and her lips pursed like they usually did when she was skeptical. “They aren't even made intobeadsyet, hardly worth that many silver nobles, don't you think?” Her mother held a pearl against Elizabeth’s powder blue dress, tutting. “Perhaps not the pink. Have you got any silver ones? Might be better for your colouring, dear.”
While her mother haggled with the merchant, Elizabeth wandered off, drawn to a cart overflowing with pink flowers. If she wasn’t so resentful of her parents right now, she might have picked a couple of pretty bunches for the dining table.
She turned to rejoin her mother and slammed into a broad chest.
It was like running into a brick wall.
“Oh.” Startled, her heart leapt into her throat. “Sorry, sir.” She looked up at who she had embarrassed herself in front of. A pair of unsettling silver eyes met her gaze.
The demon from the ball.
“Lady Elizabeth Ashcroft,” he said, frowning at her. “It’s quite all right.”
Goodness, he was massive this close.Though only a couple inches taller, his presence felt like he towered over her. She was mesmerized by his pupilless silver eyes and could think of nothing but the sheer oddity of them.
He wasn’t unattractive, for all he was a demon.
The thought that she even contemplated this creature’s attractiveness made her face feel hot with shame.
“Are you all right?” he asked, misreading her facial expression.
“Yes, well then. Good day to you,” she said, growing flustered.
He gave her a cool look and departed, slipping into the crowds and disappearing.
His appearance was so sudden that she half thought she had imagined the whole encounter. What was he doing so far from Calyx? She shook her head, blinking away her shock. Thankfully, her mother was deep in conversation with the merchant and hadn’t noticed her bumping into a strange man.
They took their lunch and afternoon tea at an elegant bistro.
Elizabeth said nothing and picked at her meal in silence.
“So, tell me? You’re not your usual self today, Lizzy.”
“I think you know why that is,” she said, unable to keep the tartness out of her voice.
A flicker of guilt crossed her mother’s features for the briefest of seconds, and had Elizabeth not known her very well, she would have missed it. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a soft smile. “Would you excuse me, Lizzy? I need to use the ladies’ room.” Her mother patted her lips delicately with a napkin and rose from the table.
A shadow crossed over Elizabeth’s features as soon her mother left. Brows tightly knit, Elizabeth scowled at the table, her polite mask slipping.
Elizabeth looked forlornly at the passersby outside the restaurant.
