It was a warm, clear day, and the sun shone bright in the City of Elua. Despite this, Évrard de Bretel found himself ensconced in the stuffy Hall of Games at the Royal Palace, surrounded by nobles desperate to be seen and heard. Évrard wished that he could be somewhere—anywhere—but here. He had no desire to sit amongst these vapid nobles whose idea of fun was to sit and wait for someone of importance to walk by and notice them. The games themselves were interesting enough, but one could only play cards or dice for so many hours before the mind went numb. Not to mention that Évrard’s gaming company left something to be desired.
He was seated in one of “the most desirable spots,” he had been told, in the company of two young ladies. Lady Oudine de Fhirze was the epitome of a social climber. Évrard swore that the lady spent the majority of her days trying to ingratiate herself with influential people, searching out gossip and spreading it, and the rest primping herself in anticipation of outings with her friend Lady Marion Basilisque. Évrard could not understand how Marion had not murdered Oudine in her sleep. Évrard was quite sure that it was only through Marion’s friendship that Oudine managed to wheedle her way into any invite. He could not imagine that anyone wanted Oudine around and suspected they put up with her because she was sewn to Marion’s side. Marion, in contrast to her friend, seemed to fade into the background, content to follow where Oudine led. Soft-spoken where Oudine was loud, plain where Oudine was ostentatious, demure where Oudine was demanding. Certainly, Évrard only put up with Oudine because Marion was there. And he felt himself an excellent judge of character.
Marion laid down her cards. “I think that’s a win for me?” She said almost timidly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Oudine frowned at her friend. “No, Marion,” she replied. “You’re missing a card here.” She tapped at the hand of cards with her fine silk fan. “Besides—” She examined her own cards. “—I do believe that I have the winning hand!”
Évrard rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow at the woman. “Actually, Oudine, Marion has won. Perhaps you need to practice some more,” he said with a falsely sympathetic tone. Évrard did his best to be as condescending as possible to Oudine; she never noticed. “Well done, Marion,” he said brightly. “Your skills are improving!” Oudine snapped her fan open and whirled her head away. Évrard gave Marion a conspiratory wink, and she blushed.
Marion knew how much he disliked her friend and that he only held their company because their families had long histories. Évrard thanked Blessed Elua every day that the two women went everywhere together; he would have put out his own eyes if he had to endure Oudine’s company alone. But, as his father’s heir, he had a duty to maintain appearances among the younger nobles, to make connections, to conduct casual business, to…find a wife and produce an heir. Évrard tugged on his cuffs and straightened his cravat. He was enjoying the freedom of being an unmarried man in the city, and he did not look forward to the day that old Lord de Bretel would finally put his foot down and demand that his eldest son settle down and marry. Évrard sighed and put his chin on his fist. He pouted, upset at the unfairness of it all. His younger brothers had no such demands placed on them. They could remain bachelors all their lives, galavanting around the City of Elua, attending parties, while he would spend his days at the family’s rural estate, tending to a wife and children. It just felt unreasonable that the eldest—the most important—son should be cast out into the countryside. He flicked a card against the table absently, letting out a loud, drawn out sigh.
Évrard was lost in thought, mourning his lot in life, when Marion’s voice brought him back to the present.
“…family’s townhouse is being cleaned. Maybe she’s planning to return to the city,” Marion was saying.
“Who is planning to return?” Évrard asked. He had many friends who summered in the city and had not yet received word that any of them were on their way, but that didn’t always mean anything.
“Oh! The late Dauphin’s betrothed. You know that she has been in mourning at her family’s estate in the country since his death?” Évrard nodded. Everyone was well aware that Cassiopée de Fhirze had not been seen in the City of Elua since Prince Daniel’s untimely and tragic death. “Well,” Marion continued, “it seems as though her family’s townhome is being cleaned—quite thoroughly. And the suspicion is that she may finally be returning.” Marion sighed and looked off in the distance. “I cannot imagine being betrothed—being set to spend my life with someone—and having him die. I think I would mourn for the rest of my days.”
Oudine tsked. “Don’t be daft, Marion.” She dabbed at her brow with a handkerchief. Évrard stifled a shudder as she stuffed it back into her bosom. How uncouth, he thought. Marion would never place her handkerchief in such a place. Everything Oudine did was unladylike in Évrard’s eyes.
“You’re a noble lady,” Oudine continued. “A new husband is easy to find. One dies; you get another.” She tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes at a passing gentleman. He tipped his chin, acknowledging the group, but did not stop.
Marion’s shoulders sagged at her friend’s pronouncement. “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I do suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am!” Oudine exclaimed. “You know, Father has had suitors lined up for me to choose from. I have my pick of husbands.” Her voice was clearly meant to carry across the room. Évrard suspected it was to make the eligible noblemen jealous.
Évrard did not doubt this. Lord de Fhirze doted on his only daughter. He gave her everything she asked for: jewels, gowns, ribbons, baubles. Évrard had no doubt that her dowry was tremendous…and he was certain this was the reason that the gentlemen of Terre d’Ange were knocking down the door of the de Fhirze townhouse. Why else would anyone want to court Oudine? With as distasteful as he found Oudine, how could any other gentleman stand her?
“That’s very fortunate for you. I am so pleased to hear it,” Marion said. Now, Marion…he could perhaps envision taking her as a wife…Marion was so elegant and quiet. She would be the perfect hostess, the perfect Lord’s wife. But more than that, She would be so easy to live with. So understanding of his wants and needs. Oudine, however, would demand to live in the manner her father had raised her. She would require a husband to cater to her wants and her needs, instead of the other way around. Évrard had no desire to spend all of his funds and his time on a wife’s whims when he could be spending them on himself.
Oudine tapped Marion on the hand with her fan and gave her a hard look. “Where are you getting this information from about the townhouse? I have not heard one word from Cousin Cassiopée about returning to the city. I am certain that if she were returning to the city, she would have written me!”
Marion paused. “You know, I don’t remember exactly. It seems to be everywhere.” She shrugged and toyed with her hair. She looked about the room and gave a small wave to another group of ladies walking by.
Oudine continued to prattle on at Marion about “Cousin Cassiopée,” and Évrard tuned her out. Though Oudine referred to the late Dauphin’s fiancée as cousin, the relationship was no closer than Évrard’s to Rasiel. It was yet another way for Oudine to put on airs and claim importance where she clearly had none.
Oudine then asked Marion if she had received an invitation to an upcoming fête at Cereus House, as Oudine had. Marion responded in the affirmative, and the two women began discussing the exclusivity of the party, who had been invited and who had not, why the House was suddenly throwing its doors open now, and what they should wear to an early summer evening on Mont Nuit.
Just as Évrard thought he could not spend another moment listening to inane gossip and talk of fashion and fêtes, he spied Count Niklos Shahrizai striding down the hallway. The Count noticed the trio and made his way over.
“Lady de Fhirze, Lady Basilique,” he greeted them pleasantly. “And…, uh, Lord de Bretel, I believe?”
“Oh Count Shahrizai! I did not expect to see you here this afternoon! What a lovely surprise! I am ever so pleased you happened upon us.” Évrard groaned inwardly as Oudine purred at the Count.
“It is lovely to see you, as well, ladies,” he replied kindly.
“Would you care to join us, my lord?” Marion inquired, indicating the card game.
Évrard cringed. The last thing on Blessed Elua’s green Earth he wanted to do was spend more time sitting there while Oudine simpered over the Count.
The Count paused for a moment, considering the offer.
Before he could respond, Évrard jumped in. “Actually, I was hoping I might have a moment of your time to discuss some business with you.”
The briefest look of confusion crossed the Count’s face before he schooled it again. Évrard knew that the two had no actual business to discuss. But he had to get them out of the Hall of Games. “Uh, yes,” he said, his voice flat. “I suppose I could spare you a moment, Lord de Bretel. But only just a moment.”
“Thank you, that’s all I need.” Évrard rose from the table. He turned to Oudine and Marion. “Ladies, I’m sure I will see you soon. Marion, so lovely to see you. Oudine.”
He barely caught the furrow of the Count’s brow before he turned to the man. “Shall we be off, Count Shahrizai?” He said quickly, hoping to get away before either woman could say anything else.
He gestured down the hall toward the Gentlemen’s Salon, trying to come up with something to discuss that would not make him look like a complete fool.