The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(24)

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Do they have many mirrors in Sternville?”

Aya furrowed her brow.

“Do they?”

Aya shook her head. She’d never seen a mirror in Sternville. They had one at the Rudder in the communal changing room, but the women in the higher-priority rooms, and even Augustus, were given the most time to study their reflections. Aya was lucky to catch a quick glance of herself once a night, and even then, she didn’t care to see her self-pitying eyes staring back at her.

“Then in these few short minutes, I have seen you more often and more clearly than you have probably seen yourself in your entire life. And I assure you, you are stunning.”

Aya touched her puffy cheeks and the corners of her swollen eyes. The young man was looking at her intently, barely holding back a pleased smile.

“And I assure you,” Aya replied, grinning, “you are blind.”

He threw his head back and laughed. Aya’s grin widened, and her head felt dizzy—the pride of successful flirting. After catching his breath, the young man stood and reached his hand out to help Aya stand. As he pulled her to her feet, she popped up as if she might float to the ceiling.

They stood there for a moment, hands still clasped, before the man shook himself and released his grip. He put his hands behind his back, like a little boy trying not to break anything in a merchant’s shop. “Will you be at the ball next week?”

“I don’t know.” Lord Varick had inquired about the ball when they spoke with the king and queen, but she didn’t know whether Varick intended for them to go, or if he was simply making conversation.

“Well, if you do decide to grace it with your presence, may I reserve a dance?”

Aya thought his formality a bit overblown, but she nodded anyway. “You may.” She did her best to imitate his lofty tone.

He bit his bottom lip and withheld a smile. “Do I really sound like that?”

Aya rolled her eyes, keeping her smile in place to show she was teasing. “All of you nobles sound like that.”

“What makes you think I’m a nobleman?” he balked, equally playful.

“Well, they certainly don’t dress the servants this nicely.” Aya gestured to his tailored jacket and cream cravat.

The young man nodded and frowned. “I shall try to do better next time.”

Aya laughed. “Might I know the name of the man who has secured a dance?”

“I could give you my full title, but in an effort to sound less pompous, I’ll have you call me Willem.”

Aya extended her hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Willem. I’m Aya.”

“Aya what?” He took her hand, and her stomach somersaulted.

“In an effort to sound less unimportant, just Aya.”

Willem smiled and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “All right. If not before, I will see you at the ball, Aya.”

“Lovely.”

Willem walked past her, and she watched him go. After a few steps, he turned around. “I feel it is only right to warn you: I am a wonderful dancer.”

Something between a laugh and a scoff escaped Aya’s open mouth. “I shall do my best to keep up.”

“I hope you do.” Willem winked. Aya didn’t realize a wink could produce the same spark as his touch. But she felt it sizzle all the way down to her core.





CHAPTER SIX


After her encounter with Willem, Aya felt as if her whole body were buzzing. She practically floated back to Lord Varick’s estate. When Aya arrived, she shut the black door behind her, leaning back against it to close her eyes and breathe. Her chest still hummed, and it felt delightfully swollen.

This is how it must be for normal girls.

“From your silly smile, I assume things went well with the king?”

Lord Varick’s voice startled Aya out of her reverie. He stood at the end of the hallway, just outside the main sitting room, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Aya straightened and patted down her ruffled skirt. “Not exactly.” Aya chose her words carefully. She didn’t think Lord Varick would be too pleased to know that her pride and girlish joy came from winning the favor of a man other than the king. “King Archon was entirely displeased at my presence near his chambers. He did not have any interest in seeing me, in any capacity, and he promptly dismissed me.”

“I see.” Lord Varick turned away. “Come sit down.”

Aya followed Lord Varick into the sitting room, her breath catching in her throat. In an armchair by the fireplace sat Madam Huxley.

“Good evening, Aya.” Madam Huxley held herself perfectly straight, a long-stemmed glass of red liquid in her hand. If Aya had been an outsider, she would have thought the madam was the queen.

“Good evening, Madam.” Aya positioned herself on the same leather couch she’d occupied that morning. Lord Varick sat across from her and poured her a glass of the red liquid. Aya took it, but she didn’t drink.

“Don’t look so alarmed, child.” Madam Huxley turned the stem of her glass between her fingers. “You are not being punished.”

Aya adjusted her hair so that it fell over her exposed collarbones, hiding the flush that threatened to spread across her chest. “I’m sorry, Madam. I am just surprised to find you here.”