The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(38)
“Important in controlling a kingdom.”
The queen nodded. “It’s a non-elimination round. Since the pox has affected so many of our contestants, I refuse to drop the numbers any lower.”
“What’s the goal of tonight then?”
“Personal curiosity. I want to see which women have the potential to be queen. Plus, we need to see which ladies can think on their feet and carry on polite conversation.”
Gerard excused himself, intent on finding Edward. He dipped out of the room and only took a few steps down the hall before the man called out to him.
“Sir, I have the information you requested.” Edward appeared at his elbow.
The castle hallway lay empty. Not taking chances, he ducked into a broom closet and dragged the curious Edward along.
“Spill.” Gerard slammed the door closed and snapped his fingers. A little ball of golden light popped into existence.
Edward cleared his throat. “MAM doesn’t exist.”
The light sputtered as Gerard gaped in disbelief. “But the daily teas, the society papers, the legendary membership fees? My mother’s patronage…”
“It’s a group, that a lot of women belong to. But MAM provides no services, no lectures, nothing that requires money. The teas are social calls to remind women to keep up with their monthly dues and to entice others to join. Social papers do the same.”
“What about the money? My mother?” Gerard wanted to pace but the small confines of the cupboard didn’t allow for any movement. MAM had been around for a decade. Ten years of exorbitant monthly fees from members had to accumulate into a massive account.
“Your mother is not a member.” Edward shrugged, an animated gesture for him. “She attends a few teas a year but never pays the fee, offers advice, or promotes the organization.”
“Then why has my mother threatened to endorse MAM? Giving them the royal seal gives that horrible group’s motives royal approval. It’s like saying royalty agrees magical and non-magical people shouldn’t mix.”
“Gerard, she did endorse MAM.”
“What?!” The ball of light flared, feeding off his rage.
“Well, she endorsed their desire to lobby for the open seat on your father’s Private Council. But that’s not the part that should worry you.”
Gerard’s eyes narrowed. He gritted his teeth. “Which. Part. Should. Worry. Me?”
“The bit about the missing funds.”
“Missing funds?”
“MAM hasn’t paid for a damn thing since they started. The money disappears. All the teas are hosted by different ladies who front the cost. MAM doesn’t spend a cent on its members.” Edward nodded toward the closed door. “I’m on my way to meet a man who handles the account. He’s willing to talk.”
“If the money goes anywhere besides the continuation of MAM, the group is committing treason.” Gerard scrunched his brows. “Dame Lange is the founder of that group, correct?”
Edward nodded. “Her eldest daughter, Lady Olivia, is still a competitor in the Bride Tournament.”
Gerard remembered the cocky way in which Lady Olivia treated him; the way the expensive cut of her gown did nothing to entice him. The fabric she wore came from a small kingdom to the Northeast. It was spun from endangered silkworms.
Only members of that kingdom’s royal family—or extremely wealthy citizens—could afford to purchase enough material to make a gown.
“Dame Lange, where do her funds come from?” Gerard didn’t remember meeting her before he went abroad. A woman with the kind of wealth she flaunted came from new money, not the sedate old.
“Not sure.” Edward took out a slender notebook. “I’ll ask around. I’m not sure if I know what her husband did for a living before he passed.”
“When did he die?”
“Right after the youngest daughter’s birth, at the inception of MAM.”
“Thank you.” Gerard extinguished the light and led the way into the still empty hall. “Find out what you can about the missing funds. And if it’s connected to Dame Lange’s extravagant spending.”
“Sure thing.” Edward turned and paused. “What are you going to do?”
Gerard peered out a lead-lined window. The Citadel lay before him in a riot of flags, citizens, pride, responsibility, and his future. Hiding in the melee was the only thing he was certain he wanted.
Ellie.
“I’m off to find a cinder-girl.”
“Get a cup of tea first, you might find it enlightening.” Edward flashed a grin, a tilt of his severe mouth.
“Will do.”
Gerard donned a plain cloak as he stepped into the castle’s courtyard. The beauty of leaving home for six years was the current air of anonymity he carried. Few recognized his face—besides family, the castle servants, and Ellie.
Gerard strolled the streets of the Citadel, keen on Edward’s advice. He had a feeling he’d find Ellie at a tea shop.
Hidden behind the main town square was a tea emporium that had been around since before his birth. He stepped inside, a bell tinkling off in the distance.
Ducking between the gentry, Gerard funneled his way into the crowded shop. Scented smoke from cheery fires wafted along the coppered ceiling. A thick black bar cut down one side of the deep room, curtained booths lining the other.