Page 34 of Noble Charms

“I understand,” said Noble. “Hand me the papers to sign.”

It would hurt worse to fight back.

He loved her for this reason, and he blamed no one but himself for all of this. He had always hated his title, and hated the sound of Earl Yves as his name, and still he had given in to the pull of high society. He’d allowed it to become his identity.

And really, part of her argument was true. Noble didn’t like the snobby elites. He didn’t like being referred to as a prince. By Elys—he was twelfth in line for the damn throne. He was no prince.

He took the title Earl reluctantly, gave her the title Lady enthusiastically, and now, in their divorce, he gave her an estate that would bring her generational wealth. Her and her lover.

Noble had done everything right, followed the proper path of a noble marriage and estate planning, and lost it all anyway.

If he never wanted to be Earl, why did he feel so much shame at this failure?

Virginia handed over the stack of papers, and while he signed each one—Earl, Earl, Earl, for the last time—she signaled someone waiting by the window outside. A man came in, holding a briefcase, looking a bit green around the face. Was this her beau? He must have been. He'd the same silhouette Noble witnessed the night before. Virginia introduced him as, “My lawyer, Kip.”

“Hello, Kip,” said Noble. “I’m Earl Yves St. Clair. For probably an hour more.” Until the papers were filed by the court. Elysium above, Noble needed to send a missive to his mother. If she found out about his loss of title and the divorce in the paper, she may never forgive him.

“H-how do you do?” said Kip. He had straight white hair cut precisely around the crown of his head, almost like a hat. His round spectacles had a crack in one corner, and his beard was trimmed shorter on one side, like he’d been in a rush to get it done. This was her man?

Noble knew then how utterly lost Virginia was to him. Noble was a descendant to the Sun God. Twelfth in line to the throne. He stood tall. He had warm hands. And he was charming almost to a fault. But Virginia didn’t love him.

She loved Kip. A pale little squirrel with a nervous grin.

“I’m not doing great, Kip. Thanks for asking,” said Noble, tone flat. Virginia hid a laugh behind a scoff. “Here are the papers for you. The estate just outside New Hieroph is yours.” Noble gathered his coat, and Morgan manifested at his side as he approached the door. Noble paused and turned to Virginia before he left. “If I don’t see you again. I want to say: I hope you have a good life.”

She looked up from the paperwork she scanned. “Come now. We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it, Noble. You may pretend you’re not one of us—” Yes, she would don her title as Lady quite permanently— “But you are. We’ll cross paths at a ball, or a wedding, or the king’s next birthday.”

Only if she hadn’t ruined his reputation beyond repair. Noble stepped onto the street, breathing in the crisp, fresh air of autumn, and tried not to think too far into the future. Oh, the things that would be said about him and his failed marriage…

He left before the heartbreak and fear made him do something absurd like rush back into the cafe and beg for Virginia to take him back.

5

A GOOD START

ARIA

“All things considered, I think I’m doing alright,” said Aria, catching a glimpse of himself in the window reflection. He focused his attention beyond that, to the books displayed inside the shop, and the milling crowd inside the store, celebrating a book launch with wine and hors d'oeuvres.

“It’s been two days,” said Romy. “There’s no way you’re doing alright.”

Aria exhaled and moved forward as the long line of partygoers stepped closer to the door, allowed in one-by-one as the store reached capacity. “I mean it. Ellor and I hadn’t worked for a long time.” Perhaps they had never worked. “Truly, I was more worried about being arrested for Suggesting him.”

Romy huffed and looked around the shoulders of the orc in front of them to gauge the wait. “No one was going to turn you in for what you did. We all saw it. He did put his hands on you, and you were clearly deeply distressed. You’re always a consummate professional, and this was one mistake. There are dozens of us that would attest to that.”

Aria frowned. “I was still removed from the guild, though.” The director told him that they had no choice, but he could see Lind smirking in the doorway behind.

Romy nodded, and her brow scrunched in thought. Then she asked, “Have you always been able to do such things?”

“What things?”

“The way you used Suggestion. You cast it with just your voice.”

Aria’s stomach dropped in fear. “I know not what you mean. I used my bardic arts.”

Romy scoffed. “Aria, I, too, am a bard. I cannot cast Suggestion easily even with my most intense dancing. You cast it innately. Like you needn’t summon the magic to your aid—like the magic sits within you, around you, at all times.”

Aria could have fainted from the pressure inside his head. He shook his head no, but the truth? Yes. The veil, the magic that wrapped around their world like a golden blanket of light, was visible to Aria always. It wasn’t until university that he learned other elves had to summon it, and they could only see it when they cast spells. Even now, on the streets of New Hieroph, he saw the veil: golden streams of soft, transparent light dancing around every person, lining the cobblestone walk, and drifting upon the air like leaves in the wind. He was a freak, even among other elves. That was why he’d wanted to be a bard. Because he could pretend, for a time, that magic came to him in song.