He heaves a sigh and glances absently around the room. “That’s disappointing to hear. When the king returns, you will have to increase your efforts.”
My stank face is blatant by the time Lady Rochford arrives at my side.
“Hello, uncle,” she says sternly.
“Jane,” he replies with a scowl-smile duo. We then silently simmer in our toxic family dynamic until the duke eventually steps back. “And now I must leave you. Good day.”
“Please, don’t go,” Lady Rochford says lifelessly.
He glares at her before he turns and leaves. Lady Rochford and I exchange a look until Bessie barrels into us.
“Catherine! This is wonderful news.”
“That my uncle left?” I ask, confused.
She shakes her head, moderately out of breath. “No, about the ambassador. We must have a masque.”
I give an unsure glance to Lady Rochford. “A masque?”
Bessie nods with a wild kind of fervor. “Everyone loves a masque. There is nothing more exciting to be done at court.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Lady Rochford mutters. “It’s more acceptable for me to ignore people when I’m wearing a mask.”
Bessie clasps my wrist and shakes it. “A masque is an ideal place for you to find me a husband.”
I lift a brow. “How so?”
“There will be drinking, dance rehearsals, and half my face will be obstructed... What better conditions could we ask for?”
She makes a solid case.
“A masque it is, then,” I agree.
“Yes!” Bessie claps her hands together and turns to face the women in the room. “Everyone, the queen has decided that there’s to be a masque! I will inform the Master of the Revels. Expect rehearsals to begin in a few days!”
An enthusiastic murmur rustles around us as Lady Rochford crosses her arms. “So,” she says, “you are to turn the masque into a husband-hunting ground for Bessie?”
I give her a noncommittal shrug. “What better purpose could it serve? I’m sure only a few men will volunteer anyway.”
When we enter the receiving room that’s being used for dance rehearsal days later, Bessie and I are met with at least twenty waiting courtiers and noblemen. They turn as we step inside, varying in age as each of them bows at my arrival.
“I like our odds,” I whisper to Lady Rochford, who is standing behind us. “Bessie was right about this being the perfect venue to find a husband.”
“And what did Bessie do for you that you agreed to such a task?” I think about answering, but before I can, she quickly walks past me, refusing, as any good defense attorney would, to listen. “On second thought, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
Bessie takes my hand, nearly vibrating in excitement. “All right, Your Majesty. Where to first?”
I remind myself of just how much she risked in making the sleeping draft for the king. For what she saved me from, she deserves the best reverse-harem speed-dating experience this palace can offer. I roll my shoulders and stretch my neck.
“Let’s do this, Bessie.”
When we approach bachelor number one, I’m fairly optimistic. Between being Zoe’s loyal wingwoman and then having my own date-a-palooza last year, I’m more or less indestructible at intros. There is no ice I can’t break. No awkward silence I can’t overcome.
“Hello there,” I say, approaching the first twenty-something Bessie steers me toward. He has dusty blond hair and a non-homicidal face. “So, this is exciting, right? Have you ever danced in a masque before?”
He looks back at me with a wide smile and offers an extravagant bow. “With people, Your Majesty? No, this is my first. And I am so keen I can barely stand still!”
I tilt my head a drop. “What do you mean it’s your first withpeople?”
