She swallowed hard, meeting my gaze. I’d never seen her shy away from a fight.Say something cutting, please,I internally begged.
Motherhood had softened my friend some, but not much. Yet her jaw hung slack.
“Just say it,” I pressed. “Say that you don’t feel he could ever love someone like me. Say that I am too unpredictable, or wild, to be cared for by a man like him.”
The whites of her eyes showed for a moment. “Oh, fuck... That’s not what I meant at all.”
Emmerick was across the room, taking the hand of a very sweet, agreeable florist for a dance.
I should be happy for him, becausethatwas the life he deserved. Quiet, uncomplicated.
“I know precisely what you meant, Sybilla. And that is why he should stay away from me. You need to find him another advisor. Immediately.”
My friend squeezed my shoulders and shook her head. The lines below her cheekbones grew deeper. Eliciting an apology out of her remained an impossible feat, but she appeared remorseful.
“I should not have poked jokes at you, Elsedora. You told me once that you were waiting for a love that felt as inevitable as your parents’. And I’ll repeat what I said to you then: You deserve nothing short of a fairy tale. Is it him?”
Her surprise still coated my tongue with venom.
I shrugged. “What does it matter?”
Her initial laughter had confirmed my fears were valid. I hated that she was right.
Sybilla’s glance flitted across the room to where Emmerick kissed the top of the florist’s hand. The wine in my stomach soured.
“Sources, your jealousy is boiling over,” she said, giving my shoulders a little shake. “Now, what are you going to do about this?”
Groaning, I pulled out of her grasp. “I suppose you’re going to order me about.”
If Em would take the pretty florist to his room, then my nerves might settle. It would be decided for me.
“Well, at least promise me you don’t intend to use that key you stuffed down your dress,” Sybilla pried. “Otherwise, this is up to you, Elsedora.Whatwill you do?”
I picked up her discarded wineglass and chugged the remaining liquid. She placed her hands on her hips and leveled me with a hard glare.
I answered, “I’m going to drink, and see where the night leads me.”
Just like old times.
Chapter 53
Emmerick
An hour had passed since I’d left Elsedora, stunned in the ballroom alcove. I’d felt something change between us—a spark that begged to be kindled.
I could live off the way her mouth had parted in surprise when I’d let myself talk to her the way I’d wanted to for years.
I’d thought she felt it too. My actions thereafter had been in jest. Yes, I’d spoken with the ladies of the court, but it was all pleasantries and polite small chatter. When I’d watched El slip that woman’s key into her dress, my mood had downturned.
We’d broken no new ground.
Someone tapped my shoulder. When I turned, no one was there, so I spun in the other direction to find El, mid-giggle.
“Having fun, puppy?” Elsedora held an overfilled wineglass.
Her draped in silk, keeping me an arm’s distance away, was sheer fucking torture.
“Of course,” I ground out the lie, unable to bury my annoyance with her sudden flippant behavior.
