Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(46)
“I will remember, Your Grace,” she says in a whisper.
“Very wise,” I say softly, squeezing her fingers. “A young lady who continues to show such wisdom will always be welcome in my circles.” She smiles with naked relief, and I can’t help but feel I’ve made a sort of conquest. I catch Molli’s eyes as a shaken Lady Nuala leaves me, and she returns my secret smirk.
Fifteen minutes pass before a soft chime dings through M.A.R.I.E.’s camouflaged speakers, signaling the arrival of all the guests. The doors automatically swing shut, barricading the intimate party inside. We all find our seats, and I beckon to one of the bots to bring in its silver cart, laden with delicate teapots.
“Please eat,” I say, gesturing at the lovely food as I take up the hostess role of pouring and distributing the tea.
When everyone has a cup, I glance up at the clock. Half an hour of food and drink. Then I’ll bring out the cosmetics. Half an hour to change my mind—to send everyone home after a relatively uneventful tea party with fabulous appetizers.
It would be enough.
I don’t have to do this.
My teacup clicks against my saucer, and I tighten my grip to stop my fingers from trembling.
What if I don’t? I’ll be stuck fending off the perverse sexual appetites of a sadist with no one to hold him in check. My mother assures me knowledge is my best protection; that forewarned is forearmed. But is it truly? Once the vows are spoken, the nuptial contracts signed, I’ll be his wife, but that won’t be the end of my mother’s plotting.
I’ll be an adult by that time, of course—I could seek an annulment, or file for divorce, or just say no. I could use the Queen’s shares and build an alliance against the King instead of for him. But the moment I refuse to cooperate, I become a loose end. When I first fled Versailles I was afraid, but I didn’t yet fully appreciate the complexities of blackmailing so powerful a person. Whatever precautions my mother has put in place, I have no reason to suppose that they will work to my benefit. And once we’re married? Then what? How can a murderous King possibly be good for anyone in the kingdom? No one would be safe from that kind of power.
She has a tiger by the tail, but I’m the one staring up at his fangs. This is the only way I can restore myself as mistress of my own fate.
Though I raise my warm teacup to my lips, I don’t drink. My stomach is too nervous. Hopefully no one will notice. That’s what the food is for—a gourmet distraction. The chatter in the room rises at exactly the time I expect it to. Tummies are full, blood sugar is elevated, and the enjoyable part of the party is beginning.
Now or never.
I tap the edge of a crystal champagne flute with a small sugar spoon and wait patiently for the roomful of guests to turn to me. Once they do, I open my mouth, then freeze, petrified by the reality of what I’m about to do. Damn Saber and his sinister warnings! But my eyes find Molli’s smiling face, and somehow I remember to breathe, and like snow melting under the warmth of the sun, I can move again.
“Thank you so much for coming today,” I say, in the same voice I use for the King. The voice that says nothing in the world could give me more pleasure than being right here, right now, doing exactly what I’m doing.
My lying voice.
“I have one more little treat for everyone. Nothing too extravagant, I’m afraid,” I laugh. “But so many of you have been asking me about it that it seemed shamefully impolite to keep it to myself.” Apart from Lady Cyn, in fact, no one has mentioned it at all, but perception is reality. “I found a Parisian who imports the most delightful cosmetics—better than anything I’ve ever used before. And they have such lovely sparkle! Fortunately, glitter goes back forever, so I can wear it whenever I like. Even on Wednesdays.”
A titter of polite laughter.
“His Majesty commented the first night I wore it that it was utterly exquisite. With so many of you inquiring, I decided that all of my dearest friends should have a chance to wear it.”
My guests express their polite appreciation with a smattering of applause before Lord Aaron speaks over them, formal and ingratiating. “We’re unworthy of Your Grace’s favor. I’m certain I speak for all here when I say that we’re so looking forward to the day you officially take the crown. In this very room.”
Bless Lord Aaron for mentioning that little tidbit to anyone thick enough not to understand the significance of our setting. “Thank you, Lord Aaron,” I say, grinning widely, feeling more false than ever. “But I see my gift comes too late—it would appear that you’ve already ferreted out my supplier!”
Lord Aaron laughs and then preens dramatically, letting the light catch on the glitter adorning his cheekbones. An appreciative breath sounds from Sir Spencer, but he coughs and covers it. It’s often obvious that Sir Spencer wasn’t raised in the palace; he doesn’t guard his expressions as we’ve all been scrupulously taught. In truth, it’s rather refreshing.
A few of the assembled have noticed Molli’s sparkles now too, and she’s receiving a number of approving smiles. Amazing how easy it is to get people to think something by simply assuring them that it’s something they already think.
I reach into a cleverly designed pocket at the top of my panniers and remove several Glittered containers of lip color, cake foundation, and rouge, including some colorless gloss for my more conservative guests. The guilt washes over me again as I hand one of those to Lord Aaron’s love, but I remind myself that perhaps with a bit of loosening up, Sir Spencer would be willing to…dally with Aaron a bit more. As they both so desperately desire. Perhaps…