“You should try one on.”
He laughs and tosses his mask into the hedge. Pieces of his hair fall along his face, and he tucks them behind his ear.
“I’ve seen a million articles about you in the papers. The new favorite. Your name is everywhere.”
“You mean they have papers where you’re from? Where was it again, the Lost?”
“It’s the Lynx. Get it right, please. Do not insult her. She’s sensitive.”
I laugh.
“I just finished working on her. She’s my first ship. Well, I don’t count the little rowboat my father made for me when I was a child learning to sail. I was saying that the whole kingdom is in a silly frenzy over you.”
“Silly frenzy?” I say.
He rubs his hand along the stubble on his face. “I meant, everyone adores you.”
“Should they not?”
“You must love it.”
“I don’t know how I feel about it yet. Have they said anything about my sister?”
“Aren’t you reading the papers?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I was.”
He smiles back at me. “They’re calling her the disgraced favorite.”
The word “disgraced” thuds into my stomach. The pain of it shouts out in all directions. A determination swells inside me. I have to find her. She must be here.
“But the newsies don’t know which way is up. They just want to sell papers.” He pulls over a night-lantern and ties its tail ribbons to the hedge behind us.
“Afraid of the dark?”
“It’s so I can see you better,” he says.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say, and I look away from him.
He stares at me. I feel his eyes drift from my hair to my eyes to my mouth. I turn, ready to walk off and resume the search for my sisters.
“Does it bother you to be the runner-up, now that you’re here?” he asks.
His question feels like a slap.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” he quickly adds.
“Then what exactly did you mean to say?”
He plucks a few leaves from my hair. The graze of his fingers sends a ripple through me, along with the realization that I’ve never been touched like this before. It softens the hard edges and fluttery nerves. “Is it difficult to be picked second?”
“This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
He grins, as if what I’ve said is funny. “That doesn’t answer the question, now does it?”
“Your question didn’t deserve a response.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“I never said I was nice.”
“Women are supposed to be sweet. Belles even more so.”
I make a gagging sound.
He laughs. “That’s what my mother told me.”
“And what do you know about Belles?”
“That they’re magical.”
I scoff. “Try again.”
“That they have magical abilities.”
“Try blessed blood.”
“What does that mean?”
“That our arcana—not magical abilities, since there’s nothing magical about them—lie within our blood.”
“Oh,” he says.
“Do they teach you about us?”
“A little . . . and if I were you, I’d outlaw that horrible trend of mosaic skin tones. It’s all the rage in the Gold Isles. People are walking around looking like kaleidoscopes.”
“Good thing you aren’t a Belle.”
He grins. “Do you have a hard time taking advice?”
“Do you always like to give your unsolicited opinion?” I try to sound exasperated, but the truth is, I like going back and forth with him.
“My mother would say so. I guess my father, too. My two older brothers tried to keep me quiet my whole life. I guess it didn’t work. And are you saying that you don’t like my opinions?”
“I—”
“Camellia!” Rémy races over. His brow is soaked with sweat. He stares at Auguste and brings his hand to the sword at his hip. “What’s going on here?”
Auguste laughs. “An imperial guard to your rescue. You are quite important.” He buttons the front of his jacket so Rémy can see his naval emblems. He puts his hands in front of him. “I’m without my dagger. No need to arrest me. I’m off.”
He saunters away, leaving a trail of heavy laughter. Rémy waits until Auguste is out of sight, then turns to me with fire in his eyes.
“What were you thinking?” he says. “Running off like that.”
“I just wanted to explore.”
“Court isn’t for fun. Not for people like you or me. You’re here to do a service.”
“I know.”
“You don’t seem to.”
“I’ve never seen anything.”
“Not all things are worth seeing,” he says.
I let Rémy lead me forward. He takes sharp turns, navigating the maze with expert precision. Guests whiz past, their laughter a faint, distant echo. The white marble stairs glow through the darkness as we approach. A girl’s giggle cuts through the garden. Her hair is piled on top of her head with ribbons and jewels that sparkle in the darkness.
“Wait—” I touch Rémy’s arm. “It’s Hana!” My pulse quickens with excitement.
I chase after the woman, swelling with happiness by the second.
“Excuse me.”
I duck past courtiers.
“Pardon me.”
I call out, “Hana.”
She doesn’t turn.
I reach for her arm. She swings around.
“Yes, my lady, can I help you?” the woman says, her facial expression marked with confusion.
It’s not her.
The disappointment makes me almost lose my balance.
Rémy puts a hand on my waist. “Your sisters declined their invitations tonight.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s not my place to speak for others,” he says, ushering me away.
21
I soak in the Grand Banquet Hall: candelabras and centerpieces dripping with white and gold, animated ceiling frescoes of the royal family’s bloodline, roses opening and closing to release their scents. The table is set for thousands, and enormous ballroom-lanterns flash so much light overhead that everything glitters. The snowmelons and strawberries in their bowls. The macaron towers draped with nets of sugar syrup and golden honey. The silver terrines filled with spiced soups. The ladies’ hair-towers and hats. The men’s cravats and suit jackets.
Du Barry and Elisabeth watch me cross the room as royal attendants ply the guests with wine and savory hors d’oeuvres. I lift my head and stand up straight, knowing I must impress.
Gossip flows faster than the water circulating through the room’s centerpiece fountain.
“One of the king’s mistresses is in attendance tonight. She wears the emblem. Look!”
“I wonder if the new favorite is better than the old one. I liked the original.”
“House Kent is falling apart, going bankrupt. Did you see Lady Kent’s dress—frayed at the hem.”
“I heard the princess ran the old favorite out of the palace.”
“I was told Princess Charlotte will wake up any day now. The queen will announce it at the Declaration of Heirs Ceremony, you’ll see.”
“The queen doesn’t really like the new favorite. If she did, she would’ve picked her from the start.”
I try to ignore the bits about Amber and me, and plaster a stiff smile on my face.