“One last impassioned plea wasn’t exactly out of line,” I countered. “You could have been a little more diplomatic before turning to threats.”
My next dance was with a major in Denham’s army whose career was on the rise. He’d just been put in charge of leading soldiers out to Osfrid’s southernmost colonies to investigate Icori border raids. He waxed on about my beauty, making all sorts of poetic analogies, like how my eyes were the color of bluebells in the spring. After him came another magistrate, one who ranked higher than Mister Collins. He was followed by a bishop of Uros—a man who seemed far more concerned with worldly than spiritual affairs.
On they went, running together. I was eventually given a break and sat on the dais with Mira, trying to cool myself with a crystal-covered fan.
“It’s exhausting,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” she said, covertly rubbing her sore feet under the table.
“I take it more than a few men were fine with marrying a Sirminican?” I knew the answer; she’d been as busy as me.
“That remains to be seen,” she said with a sly smile. “It’s hard to know anything about them now. Mostly all they do is go on about my beauty and use pretty words.”
I glanced at her in surprise. “That’s almost exactly what Warren said.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “That all these men would try to flatter me—but that he was the only one who’d make on offer to me based on my qualities and his need to have a partner whose counsel he could trust.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I didn’t hear anything remotely like that from my lot tonight. I still think that initial offer was presumptuous, but . . .”
“But?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t dismiss him so quickly.”
“Why, Mirabel Viana, I never thought you’d say such a thing.”
She scoffed. “Well, that was before I’d heard my hair likened to the night sky.”
“Was it the major?”
“Yes,” she said, and we both fell into laughter.
We said little after that, enjoying our brief rest. We watched the crowd, the other girls dancing and flirting with their admirers. Most had overcome their initial shyness and were soaking up the attention. Clara in particular seemed to be loving it. She was dancing with the major, and I wondered what compliments he had for her. Apparently, he was trying to increase his odds by talking to all of us.
Mira suddenly stood up, a look of surprise on her face. “What is it?” I asked.
“I . . . it’s nothing. But I need . . . I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried down the dais without a glance. I looked around, trying to spot what had caught her notice, but all I saw was a sea of faces.
Soon, I was swept back up into the great game. When the party finally dispersed, nearly five hours had passed. The excitement and adrenaline had faded, and I only wanted my bed. My feet ached. As soon as I was back in the antechamber, I slumped against the wall, closing my eyes in relief.
Someone’s arm linked through mine. “Easy there, my lady. Don’t pass out yet.”
I opened my eyes. “I told you not to call me that.”
“I don’t think anyone would think I was being literal tonight. Can you walk?”
“Of course.” I straightened up, and Cedric slipped his arm farther around my back, letting me lean into him. Other girls were helping each other as well, all of us worn out as we made our way to the carriages.
“It’ll be a lot easier after this,” he said. “Smaller parties. Private homes. One-on-one visits at the house. This was just to get their attention.”
“I hope it worked.”
“For you it did. I had to turn away droves of them. There just wasn’t time.”
“Well, I hope you picked only the ones who—” I came to a halt near the carriage he was leading me to and glanced around. “Where’s Mira?”
Cedric looked as well. It was nearly the middle of the night, and the scene behind the hall was one of chaos, filled with horses and coaches and Jasper’s hired men. The girls glittered a little less now, and there was no need for the earlier meticulous order. Mostly we wanted to get in a carriage and go home.
“She’s here somewhere,” Cedric said. “Probably already inside one of these. Come on.”
He started to help me into one of the coaches when a voice behind us said, “Adelaide?”
We both turned to see Warren Doyle approaching. I stepped back down. “How did you get through?” exclaimed Cedric. “Those guards are supposed to keep everyone out.”
“Mister Thorn, I’m the governor’s son. They don’t keep me out of any place.” Warren studied Cedric a few moments and then turned his enamored smile on me. “Adelaide, I know more invitations will flood your door now, so I wanted to issue mine in person. My hope is I’ll get to call on you soon. But my mother is also hosting a dinner in a few nights, and we would love for you to join us. Along with a couple of other girls, of course.”
“That’s very kind,” I said. “I’m sure—”