The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(42)

“I never really thought about it.” Aya looked down to their feet. “It made my father very sad to think about my mother, so I tried to forget about her too.”

Willem didn’t reply, but when Aya dared to glance up, she saw compassion in his eyes.

Aya took a deep breath. If Willem asked her such personal questions, surely Aya could do the same. “What about your parents? Am I right to assume your parents are nobility like your uncle?”

“Yes, they are, regrettably.” Willem’s eyes squinted, as if he were wincing behind his mask. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I know that I’m lucky to have been born to advantage.”

Aya smirked. “Not everyone envies the nobles as much as you all think we do.”

“You should tell them that.” Willem inclined his head toward the onlookers. “To answer your question, my mother died when I was a child. She was murdered.”

Aya gasped. “I’m so sorry, Willem.” She reached up to place her hand on his cheek. Unlike Charlie’s metal face, the side of the mask was warm against her hand.

“And your father?” Aya sucked in her lower lip, hoping the question would not elicit another sad answer.

“He’s alive.” Willem’s eyes showed no emotion.

“What is he like?”

Willem shook his head. “Nothing like me.”

Before Aya could respond, she saw a thin finger tap Willem on the shoulder. The couple turned to see Lord Varick’s blank glass stare.

“Might I have a dance with my dear ward?”

“Of course, Lord Varick.” Willem moved to put Aya’s hand to the lips of his mask, but instead, she stretched up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on its nose. His hazel eyes glowed behind his mask, and Aya felt the heat all the way from her own eyes down to her thighs.

Aya smiled. “Until we meet again.”

“I shall count the seconds, Aya.” Willem smiled at her, before bowing to Lord Varick. “Good evening.”

With that, Willem disappeared into the crowd, and Lord Varick took his place.

“That is some high company you are keeping, my dear.” Lord Varick’s pace was much quicker than Willem’s. He led them in the same dance the other nobles performed. Aya did not know the name or the steps, but it did not seem to require much finesse from the ladies.

“Oh, Willem?” Aya glanced over her shoulder in the direction Willem had gone. “Yes, I know. He told me he is the heir to Lord Collingwood’s estate. Dellwyn would never believe it if I told her I had danced with him.”

Lord Varick raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

Aya cocked her head to the side. “Yes. Why? Is he not someone I should associate with?”

A muffled chuckle emitted from behind Lord Varick’s mask. He shook his head and took a few deep breaths through his nose to compose himself.

“What?” Aya stopped dancing, staring up into Lord Varick’s goggles.

Lord Varick shook his head again and pulled Aya back into the dance. “Nothing, Miss Aya. It’s just…” Lord Varick chuckled again. “Comical. Leave it to the worst seductress in the Rudder to find a highborn suitor when she should be courting the king. I trust that you will be more discreet in the future?”

Aya blushed. “I will. I’m sorry. I told Willem not to dance like that.”

Lord Varick shrugged. “You were out of the king’s sight. I do not think it did any harm. As long as you are careful from now on, all will be well. I am anxious to watch this unfold.”

“Same.” Aya wished she had dark goggles to conceal the distrust in her eyes.

“I don’t think we will have to wait much longer.”

“Why is that?”

Lord Varick inclined his head to Aya’s left. She glanced over her shoulder to see that they were dancing in front of the king and queen. She hadn’t realized that Lord Varick had already led her halfway around the dancing circle. Aya noticed that King Archon’s cold eyes were fixed on them.

“The king has been watching you ever since we entered his line of sight.”

The thought of the king spying on her made Aya’s stomach tumble—partially out of disgust and partially out of delight, for his attention meant their plan was working.

Aya and Lord Varick danced in silence for a few more minutes. However, Aya knew this silence was not empty. Varick strategically turned them to and fro, giving the king a view of Aya from every angle and making sure her face showed in his direction whenever she smiled. After a few more turns, Aya glanced up to find the king’s throne vacant. She peered through the crowd, and sure enough, King Archon strolled toward them.

“He’s coming,” Aya whispered.

Lord Varick’s mask prevented her from seeing his mouth, but his raised cheekbones told her he was smiling. Right before the king came into earshot, Lord Varick pulled Aya in for a hug. “Best of luck, my dear,” he whispered into her hair.

Aya nodded.

“Lord Varick,” King Archon said. “I would like to take a turn with your ward.”

Before Lord Varick could respond, Aya piped up. “Should you not ask the ward herself, Your Majesty? Or is Lord Varick to be my voice now?”

Lord Varick’s goggles shifted upward. “Your Majesty, please forgive her imprudence. Miss Wellman is not yet versed in ballroom etiquette.”