Lore laughed politely, fighting her anxiety’s urging to shove pastries in her mouth one after the other. “It was certainly enlightening.”
Danielle’s smile was genuine, if nakedly curious. “We’ve barely seen you since your dramatic entrance at Bastian’s masquerade, other than your introduction at First Day prayers.” Her tone was still friendly, but something sharp flashed in her eyes. Curiosity, and not a small bit of wariness.
“I’ve been ill,” Lore said, searching for a way to explain her long absence that wasn’t I channeled too much Mortem and then looked for proof of treason in the Church library. In a flash of inspiration, she gestured to her middle. “Cramps.”
“Ah.” Brigitte nodded knowingly. She pushed a cup of tea across the table; it smelled just as bright and delicate as everything looked in this room. “That should help. I have terrible pains when my time comes, too, and so does my brother. It’s awful.”
The sympathy in her voice made Lore almost sorry she was lying. Well, only technically—she might not be bleeding now, but when she did, it felt like someone kicking her repeatedly in the organs. She took a sip of the offered tea. It was surprisingly tasty. “I should be fully recovered in a few days. Then I’ll hopefully be able to look through my stack of invitations. And get in that croquet practice I promised Alie.”
“I’m sure you’ve been invited to everything. It’s not often we have a newcomer.” Danielle picked up a chocolate and popped it in her mouth, speaking around caramel. “Most of us started coming to the Citadel in the summers as children; we’ve known each other for ages.”
“So I’ve heard.” Lore traced threads in her mind, recalling the backstory she and Gabriel had come up with. A country home in… shit, Gabriel had told her a name to use, and she’d completely forgotten it… a childhood sickness that kept her confined…
But the questions, when they came, weren’t about her at all. “So,” Danielle said, leaning forward, eyes darting mischievously between Lore and Alie. “Why is Gabriel really back in court? Is it truly just to escort you?”
Lore nearly choked on her tea. That odd glitter was still in Danielle’s eyes, almost like this was a test.
“Dani.” Alienor sounded halfway between laughing and screaming, with the kind of nervous strain that came from both desperately wanting and not wanting a conversation to happen. “We don’t need to talk about Gabriel. There’s no need to go excavating ancient history.” Though Alie’s blush was the color of the cherry jam in Lore’s pastry, there was a still a hopeful light in her eyes. Lore recognized it. A torch long held. And it made her think of Gabe’s bare chest and how it’d felt pressed warm against her back a week ago and Bleeding God nothing could be simple, could it?
“Poor Bastian.” Brigitte shook her head, face solemn, though the words were teasing. “Went to all this trouble, let Alie use his suite and everything, just for her to ask about Gabriel.”
“You know it’s not like that with Bastian,” Alie said. “He’s like a brother.”
“Unfortunate, honestly,” Brigitte countered. “I mean, I don’t think being an Arceneaux Queen would be a grand time, but he is unconscionably handsome.”
“Unconscionably handsome, yes,” Dani said, “but he’d make an awful husband, if you wanted anything like loyalty. Bastian has someone new in that huge bed three times a week.”
“Sounds like fun to me,” Brigitte said with a wicked grin. “It’s really just the queendom that doesn’t suit.” She picked out another macaron. “Don’t tell my father I said that, though. He has half a mind to try and get us betrothed before the end of the season.”
Now Lore’s face was nearing the color of Alienor’s.
“Gods, betrothals.” Dani rubbed at her temple, as if the very thought sparked a headache. “I don’t want to think about them.”
There was genuine exhaustion in Dani’s voice. Alie and Brigitte shared a quick, sympathetic look.
“Has your family come around at all, Dani?” Alie asked tentatively. “To the idea of you and Luc?”
“Of course not.” Dani sat back with a sigh, crossing her arms and staring at her tea. Her eyes flicked up to Lore, then away. “He’s a commoner. It doesn’t matter that he’s the son of a well-regarded shipbuilder; they only care about lineage.”
“And Hugo didn’t put in a good word for you?”
“No,” Dani said miserably. “I did what we talked about—I made Hugo take me on a night Luc was fighting, acted like we’d never met. Luc won the match, of course, and Hugo won a pile of money on the bet—Luc did, too. But when I brought up that I might want to marry a well-off commoner… it didn’t go well.” Her mouth twisted. “In the words of my dear brother, it’d be like throwing money into the ocean.”
Lore stayed quiet. She wondered if Luc was someone she might know if she saw him.
“But we’re thinking of a new plan,” Dani said quietly, hopefully. “Luc and I. Amelia is the oldest; she’s the daughter who will need to marry for status.”
“Maybe she can have a crack at Bastian,” Brigitte said.
Dani rolled her eyes. “You sound just like her. She’s convinced she would make an excellent queen, but my parents are playing it safe. They’re currently in negotiations with Viscount Demonde. Amelia is less than thrilled.”
“Gods, I bet.” Bri scowled. “If I had my sights on Bastian Arceneaux and got ancient Demonde instead, I’d be furious.”
Lore’s smile felt very brittle.
“He’s ancient, but the Demonde line is, too. And he’s rich as sin, and much easier to secure than an Arceneaux heir. If Amelia makes a prestigious match, then my marriage can be just about money.” Dani shrugged. “Luc is the heir to a modest fortune, and making more money on his own, besides.”
Again, a slant of her eyes to Lore, so quick it could’ve been imagined.
“Is he building ships, too?” Alie asked.
“Not quite,” Dani answered. “Apparently, a new company has been hiring men off the docks to do transfer work. Carrying cargo from one place to another, things like that. They pay ridiculously well, and it’s usually only a night or two of labor.” She took a contemplative sip of tea. “It’s not exactly aboveboard, I assume, but if they’re paying the cargo carriers that well, their budget for bribes is probably quite healthy. Not that anyone would dare arrest Luc, once they found out who his father was.”
After hearing from Cecelia where the courtiers got their poison and how thin the rules held when you introduced money, Lore was sure that was true. “What’s the cargo?”
“I don’t know,” Dani said. “And I don’t care, really—it’s a lot of money, enough that Luc could buy a town house in one of the nicer Wards and pay my dowry even before his father dies and leaves him the business.”
Something tugged in Lore’s gut, not sitting quite right. As if this conversation was somehow a continuation of the one she’d been having all week in the Church library.