Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(24)

But I focus on his first statement. “You leave? How will you leave?”

“The Foundation,” he says. “I still fund it, you know.”

I stop, my slippered feet crunching on the gravel walk. “Really?”

“Ever ready with plan B.”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get caught?”

“What would they punish me for? It’s not against the law.”

“It’s socially unacceptable. Which is practically the same thing.”

He shrugs. “I’d survive such a relatively small scandal. But if the Foundation is contacted by someone less able to afford its services than I was, I want them to be able to get what they need. That’s all.”

“I didn’t peg you as a philanthropist.”

“It’s possible I have ulterior motives.”

“Such as?”

He swings his walking stick and raises an eyebrow at me. “If I should one day find myself wanting to leave with a terribly handsome lad in tow, who’s tired of being a puppet in his father-in-law’s machinations, it would be most fortuitous to have an organization such as this one indebted to me.”

“Touché,” I say, tapping his shoulder with my fan. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you have such plans.”

“No, you should not,” he says with a vaguely condescending smile. After several paces in silence, he remarks, “I can’t believe he moved you into the Queen’s Rooms. He’s such a pompous ass.”

“Oh, that’s the least of what he is.” I mean for the words to sound playful, but they don’t, and a lump catches in my throat. I bend and toss a handful of pebbles into the pond. Lord Aaron stoops and grabs his own handful, though he throws his one at a time, and for a while the only sound is the gentle plop they make as they break the surface of the water.

“Are you sorry you stayed?” I ask.

“I wish I could be.”

I glance over at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

“The only thing worse than not being able to be with the one you love is not being able to even see him.”

“Do you think the time will come? After Lady Julianna’s father—”

But he shakes his head vehemently. “I can’t hang my hopes on that. That part is out of my control. I have to be happy—enough—with what I have. Then anything else I get is cream, and if nothing else happens, I won’t spend my life feeling I’ve been robbed.”

“An enviable philosophy,” I say, and I mean it. I step closer and lay a hand on Lord Aaron’s arm, itching to change the subject. “Escort me back? I have an appointment with the royal modiste.” I say the words with a lofty lilt.

“A new gown?”

“A new wardrobe. The King took one look at my gown and insisted my current fashions are unsuitable for a King’s consort.”

“Consort?” Lord Aaron says in indignation. “Did he say that?”

“Indeed.”

“Ass.”

“Indeed,” I repeat, a smile hovering at the corners of my mouth.





THE DOORS TO the salon just outside the Appartement de la Reine bang open, and it’s all I can do not to fall off the dressing stool, where I’ve been perched for over three hours, being fitted for every sort of gown one could imagine. They’ve only just started on this one, so I’m standing in little more than my undergarments, corset, and stockings, but I refuse to flinch as his eyes find me and appreciation flares to life.

“Ah. Justin,” I say flatly, and a wave of stifled laughter rises up from one side of the room.

His eyes go blank and a hint of color rises on his cheeks as he realizes he has an audience. I invited Molli and Lady Mei to sit in on the fitting—unfortunately, I didn’t select a private enough corner when I asked them to join me, and two other ladies, Rebekah and Lady Seidra, overheard. It’s a high enough social honor to be invited to attend the future Queen that they gleefully wormed themselves into the invitation as well. It’s not that I don’t like Rebekah or Lady Seidra, but being attended while wearing only rather flimsy undergarments is far less awkward when said attendants are one’s more intimate friends.

At this moment, however, I’m grateful for the extra eyes. And reddened cheeks and embarrassed giggles.

“Dani,” he says in mock deference, though I can see the tension in his jaw. “We need to talk.”

I gesture wordlessly at the trappings draped over every piece of furniture in the room.

“You need a break,” he snaps. “They do too.”

“Omniscient as well as omnipotent, are we?” I murmur, for his ears only.

“Don’t you?” he snaps at the giggling group of girls, only Molli looking white-faced and concerned.

“Indeed, Your Highness,” Rebekah says, dropping into a deep curtsy.

“Most weary, Your Highness,” Lady Seidra says in a matching tone, as though they hadn’t been sitting on a settee being served tea and refreshments for the last hour. The King makes a shooing motion and the ladies scurry away. Molli pauses at the doorway and touches the corner of her eye, indicating that I should com her ASAP. She casts one more frustrated glare at the King’s back and closes the door behind her.