His expression almost persuaded me to spend as much time as possible with Meredith, just to annoy him.
“Lady Meredith. Good morning. You look radiant, as always.” He kissed her hand, an odd softness about him as he admired the work she was doing and praised her skill with the needle; she glowed with his attention. But his smile was stiff, overly formal as he greeted the rest of the ladies by name. Then he turned to me. “Lady Julianna, may I speak with you in the hall?”
All eyes turned toward me as I placed the spindle and wool on the chair, and followed the prince and his bodyguard. The queen’s eyebrow lifted as I passed her.
Tobiah left the door open for propriety’s sake, but motioned me down the hall a few paces, where we could speak without being overheard. “I was going to send you a note,” he said. “I think that might have been easier.”
And I would have had a sample of the prince’s handwriting. I tried not to let my disappointment show; he probably had a boring hand anyway.
“After the committee meeting the other day, several of the members approached me separately with concerns.”
I tilted my head and offered a quizzical look.
“They’re concerned that the meetings might be too difficult for you to continue attending. Because the majority of those in attendance carried identical misgivings, I’m afraid I must—”
“I understand.” It was rude to interrupt, and a duchess would never dare, but one nursing wounded pride might be that bold, so I risked it. I set my mouth in a line and directed a glare across the hall, on a framed mirror reflecting a portrait of some long-dead queen.
“Not because of your gender, I assure you, but because you’ve endured something incredibly traumatic. The gentlemen are simply concerned for your peace of mind. We all wish you nothing but healing.”
Beyond the prince, James stood with his hands behind his back, shoulders straight, and a slight frown on his face. When our eyes met, he shook his head just barely.
We both knew why the committee didn’t want me. Fortunately, I’d already learned everything I needed for the Ospreys. But what about the lake?
I’d simply have to continue my own research, and follow it wherever it took me.
“I understand,” I said again, and met the prince’s eyes. “I’m disappointed, of course. Though I appreciate the concern, I know I could be useful.”
The prince’s expression was unreadable. “I’m afraid the decision is final, but I will keep you apprised of any developments. I hope that will suffice.”
That sounded unlikely. “Thank you.” I put no effort into sounding genuine.
“Have a good morning with the ladies.” At that pointed dismissal, he turned and headed down the hall. James flashed an apologetic smile before following.
When I returned to the ladies’ solar, the women were already hard at work once more. The queen sat in a tall chair with half a dozen pillows squeezed in with her, and she worked right alongside the others. She spun on a spindle—a much finer one than I’d been given.
Meredith cocked an eyebrow as I took my seat. “Is everything all right? You look upset.”
I gave a prim smile and took up my spindle, keeping one eye on the queen as she spun. “I’m well enough. Thank you.” All eyes were on me, though, and perhaps there was an opportunity here. I allowed my chin to tremble and made my voice small, but trying to be strong. “Well, I’d wanted to join the wraith mitigation committee. I thought I might be able to help.”
Meredith nodded. “That’s quite brave of you.”
“Unfortunately, the majority of the committee believes I am unsuitable, thanks to the very thing I believe makes me valuable: my experience in the wraithland.”
A few of the ladies hissed, and several scowled. The queen simply focused on her work—or appeared to focus. Chey shook her head and met my eyes. “Women are constantly underestimated. Women can be just as cunning and clever as men, and oftentimes are. Our triumph is simply overlooked or unnoticed, because men do not expect it or know to look for it.” She offered a strange smile. “Use your perceived insignificance to your advantage. It’s what we all do.”
There was a small chorus of yeses and a ripple of nodding, making me wonder for the first time what they were hiding. All these ladies with their own lives, their own goals.
Perhaps I’d misjudged them earlier. Their inane chatter was a small theater, meant to disguise their true selves from me: an outsider.
The queen smiled gracefully as she wound yarn onto her spindle.
“Thank you for the advice,” I said after a moment. A strange sense of kinship welled up in me. We all wore disguises, and now I understood theirs.
Not that I trusted Chey—or Meredith or the queen or anyone else in this room—but that didn’t make her advice any less true. Maneuvering beneath notice was what I’d been doing since my arrival here.
This incident with Tobiah was a setback, but it wouldn’t keep me from my goals.
As soon as the ladies disbanded for the day, I set about haunting the halls around generals’ offices, and anywhere else I might find answers. But I found nothing.
There was no getting around it. I was going to the wraithland.