Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(42)
“For the men,” I confirm. “Though some will probably also use the rouge.”
He scoffs openly at that. “The men? I thought you were just going to pass it around to the executives’ wives while you all sit around and drink tea.”
“Oh, gentlemen will be in attendance too. The palace has more than its fair share of kept men.” I lean forward, allowing my pushed-up cleavage to show a little, just to throw off his tightly held composure. “You don’t think our company has run so smoothly for nearly a hundred years because men were in charge, do you?”
His eyes jump up from my breasts to my face, and it’s clear he assumed exactly that.
I straighten, removing my enchantments from his view again with a jolt of satisfaction. “We may emulate the court of the Sun King, but make no mistake: Sonoma is a modern corporation, and its court isn’t so backward-thinking as you clearly believe. Many of our men routinely use cosmetics, and even those who don’t certainly aren’t intimidated by a little sparkle now and then. Are you?”
His cheeks flush, and after clearing his throat, he continues. “Okay, so you have your little party with your friends, you drink tea, you have snacks, and then you pass around the spiked cosmetics. That’s your plan?”
He makes it sound ridiculous, and the furor in his green eyes throws me irrationally off-balance. “I’ll have you know I’ve been laying groundwork for this for two days. The court is already—”
He holds up his hands. “I really don’t want to know. Just make sure you don’t let anyone leave for a good hour after you bring out the cosmetics.”
“As though any decent hostess would.” My voice is dripping with condescension and I don’t even try to hide it. He’s exquisitely beautiful, brimming with power and simmering anger, but I certainly wouldn’t consult him on the fine art of the luncheon.
“Decent hostess,” Saber says with a deep, low laugh. “What you’re essentially doing is tricking these women—these people—into a serious addiction. I don’t think the word decent has any place in this conversation.”
His bluntness might be refreshing, were he not using it to bludgeon me.
It’s not like I have a choice. Telling them what the cosmetics truly are is out of the question. I trust the discretion of my fellow nobles about as far as I trust His Majesty the King. If any of them guess what’s really in my special cosmetics, their likely refusal to make future purchases will be the least of my problems. I have to keep the dosage low enough that they don’t realize they’ve been drugged at all—that they just feel good whenever they use the makeup I gave them, so they’ll buy more.
This will also maintain a veneer of plausible deniability for me; how was I to know what was in the historically appropriate makeup my supplier sold me? I was as duped as anyone! All the court of Sonoman-Versailles needs to believe is that my secret makeup supplier is the best in the world and my product well worth the outrageous price.
And it’s temporary, I remind myself. A few months. Nothing can be so bad for a few months. It’s not like this can kill them—look at my father. He’s been using for ages.
“Once they put it on their skin, you’ve got about five minutes before—”
“Euphoria will kick in, yes. I remember from watching my father,” I interrupt.
Saber gives me a silent stare, and I’m just starting to think I’m going to have to say something—possibly even apologize—to get him going again when he resumes. “You watched your father receive a very high but carefully moderated dose of a substance he’s been using for over a month. This’ll be different. The reaction of first-timers can vary from a pleasant drowsiness to fits of bliss to manic energy—even at doses low enough that they’re unlikely to realize they’ve been drugged. We almost never start newbies on doses as high as your father.”
A prickle of unease travels up my spine. “Why not?”
“Reginald needed him hooked hard and fast, didn’t he?”
My entire neck grows warm. There’s something wrong here. “Why would—”
Saber’s face flushes red, and I realize he’s told me something he shouldn’t have.
“My father was targeted.”
Saber tries to get the conversation back to the supplies, but I’m having none of that.
“This is why my father’s the only noble in the palace using Glitter, and also happens to be getting it from the only Parisian drug dealer, who happens to know that his daughter is trying to escape from Sonoman-Versailles.”
When Saber’s mouth snaps shut, I know I’m onto the truth. This isn’t about my father. This isn’t even precisely about Glitter. This is about me. Seemingly unimportant words from my conversation with my father sail into my thoughts. About the night he met Reginald.
We talked.
About what?
You, mostly.
Pieces like little bits of a puzzle are coming together in my mind, revealing one brilliant, devastating whole. My father was bait. Getting Glitter into the high-priced world of Sonoman-Versailles was Reginald’s aim. Possibly since the moment he realized who I was in the catacombs. “This is a setup.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar!”