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two are going to have to pretend to be occupied with something so I can join in. Hoeing is the worst,” she said with a grimace.

Ria giggled. Half of the smashed egg was on the side of her face.

The rest of the day went on reasonably well. Genevieve and I decided to partake in the laborious task of unpacking and gladly recruited Tori to help her escape the dreaded garden work. She got so bored that she ended up hoeing the gardens anyway. Vicky and Ria mysteriously disappeared after breakfast, but glimpses of messy hair and tiny limbs around the corners told us that they were curious enough to spy. Genevieve put an end to it when she began to organize her undergarments. The two scampered off with shrieks of horror.

When we finished unpacking, Tori gave us a tour of the house. Hours passed with lighthearted conversations and walks along the city streets. I forced myself to be at ease despite the worries nagging the back of my mind.

When night fell, we were called yet again to the dining room for dinner with Lord Strongfoot.

“I must admit I never had too many guests over since we got this manor, so you two ladies are the first to get a taste of Strongfoot hospitality.”

Genevieve and I sat eating our dinner of roast chicken, potatoes, and greens. Tori was seated to her father’s right. There were no places set for Vicky or Ria, so I assumed the girls did not find formal dinners particularly amusing.

“When did you move in?” I asked, looking up at the fresco of bare-bottomed angels on the ceiling.

“Six months ago,” Tori answered after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. “Around the time when Pa made Captain Greenwood his sword.”

“Ah, yes, a fine sword that was,” Lord Strongfoot said, stroking his beard. “For a finer man, if I must say so myself.”

I raised my brow, thinking back to what Lydia had said about Captain Greenwood and his affair with the queen.

“It is awfully generous of the captain to grant you all this,” Genevieve said.

“Not just generous, my girl. He is the most honorable man I have ever met, and I’m not saying that because he gave me this grand old house and a title of my own,” Lord Strongfoot said with a wink. “There are countless stories about his bravery and comradery. There’s never been a soldier quite as respectable as him. Fearless in battle and faithful to the king.”

“And faithful to his wife, I hope?” I said, keeping my tone polite.

Lord Strongfoot looked at me from over the rim of his goblet, his bushy brows raised high. He took a swig of wine. “You’ve heard those nasty rumors about him and the queen, I suppose?”

I nodded, feeling somewhat ashamed.

“I must admit I had my doubts about the matter too. After all, how could they explain the unexpected birth of Prince Ash? Something like that can’t be kept in the dark.”

“And heaven knows how to prove someone’s legitimacy,” Tori mumbled over a forkful of greens. “There’s really no saying whose son he is. It’s all based on witnesses and word of mouth.”

“Exactly. But after I met the captain, I knew he would never do such a thing,” Lord Strongfoot said. He picked up a fork and speared a piece of chicken. “You would too, I think, but I doubt debutantes will meet any of the Royal Guard. Hardly anyone does. Their job is to stay hidden.”

I pushed a carrot around my plate and wondered what Prince Ash thought about the whole affair. How could he possibly stand the notion that his supposed illegitimate birth impacted the way people viewed him, and even viewed the queen?

I paused. How would people view me, if they knew I was a witch? I shook my head and continued to eat. It was a ridiculous thought. If things went my way, no one would.

I only hoped my magic would stay under control until Theodora and Rowena got rid of it.

9

“We have a tea social with the queen,” Tori announced the next day.

Genevieve looked up from her sketch. We received a letter from the palace this morning, containing the invitations and description of the Season events.

“With the queen? I thought it was supposed to be with Duchess Wilhelmina,” Genevieve said, closing her sketchbook.

“Apparently there’s been a change of plans,” Tori said. “Her Grace will be hosting the soirée instead.”

“What’s a swa-ray?” a small voice emerged underneath the coffee table. Vicky poked her head out, giving Tori a gap-toothed grin.

“None of your business, that’s what,” her sister said brusquely. “Why don’t you go play with Ria?”

Vicky pouted. “Fine,” she said. “You never have time to play with me anymore.”

“That’s because I have things to do. Now run along.”

“Why don’t you run along, you big, ugly—”

At the sight of me and Genevieve, Vicky darted under the table with a gasp. The three of us watched her make a stealthy escape out the parlor on all fours.

Tori shook her head. “Weird kid,” she muttered.

The short carriage ride to the palace seemed to drag on as I thought about the duchess. It was a relief that I wouldn’t have to see her again so soon, but something nagged at the back of my mind—the plume of scarlet smoke from the queen’s goblet at the Debutante Ball. Was it magic? Or something else? The crabgrass in the garden certainly wasn’t magic. I sighed. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.

Tori, Genevieve, and I were escorted into the south wing of the palace, where the royals lodged and personal gatherings took place. This, I heard a girl whisper, was the exclusive of the exclusive.

It was nearing afternoon when we seated ourselves underneath a large, ornate gazebo out in the Queen’s Garden. Hedges, fountains, and hydrangea bushes were arranged tastefully around us. Five tables were set out, and the three of us managed to find seats with Olivia, who was silent at our arrival, and another debutante.

We didn’t have to

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