The Cogsmith's Daughter (Desertera #1)(77)
“It is my pleasure to meet you both,” Aya offered. She did not know what palace ladies were supposed to discuss over tea, other than what titles their fathers held, and she hoped that this statement would invite someone to open a topic of conversation.
“I am sure I speak for Miss Frieson and myself when I say that is also our pleasure to meet you,” Miss Aster replied.
That was not terribly helpful.
“Yes,” Miss Frieson added. “After all we have heard of you around the palace, it is so nice to put a face to the name.”
“Is that so? And what have you heard?” Aya took her first sip of the hot cocoa, finding it sweet, warm, and nothing at all like the wretched plant water of the tea. She followed it with a tiny bite of the lemon cake. Like the chocolate, it was sweet, but it also had a delightful tang to it, a refreshing contrast to the richness of the beverage. She would have to thank the server again for his fine selection.
“Oh, you know how people talk around the palace.” Miss Collingwood put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. You’re new. I suppose you do not know.”
“The act of gossiping is not unique to the rich,” Aya replied. “Though you all seem to have much more time for it than any other people I’ve ever met.”
Miss Aster chuckled, and Miss Frieson simply watched Aya sip her drink.
Miss Collingwood smiled demurely. Aya could imagine her practicing the expression in the mirror. “Either way, people talk. At first, everyone simply discussed you because you are a ward. You see, nobles do not usually take in wards unless they cannot have children of their own. Therefore, Lord Varick taking you in, especially after the loss of his own daughter, was quite a surprise.”
Aya licked a dab of lemon cream off her fork. “You said at first. What did these people say about me second?”
Miss Collingwood blushed. “Well, I hate to repeat such rubbish. You seem like a perfectly nice young lady to me.”
Miss Frieson cleared her throat. “They say you have already made many friends in the palace.”
“Oh really? Like whom, may I ask?”
“Well, the king, of course,” Miss Aster piped in. The other ladies glared at her. “What? Don’t look at me like that. No use beating around the bush when Miss Wellman clearly knows what we’re hinting at.”
Aya smiled. Yes, she liked Miss Aster. Shrugging, Aya allowed her voice to float, light and carefree, from her lips. “I had not thought about it before, but I suppose I could call the king my friend. So, yes, I guess that rumor is true.”
“Might I ask why you have begun a friendship with His Majesty?” Miss Frieson wrinkled her upturned nose. “It is a rather odd relationship.”
“It was not my doing.” Aya waved her hand to dismiss the idea. “Lord Varick suggested it, actually. You see, they do not share it in public now that the late queen Isadona has gone to the next world, but the king and Lord Varick were actually quite close when the king and Isadona were married. This friendship has remained, but they believe it would be in poor taste to continue it in plain sight now that they are no longer kin, so to speak. Anyway, when I came to the palace, Lord Varick thought it would be nice for the king to help introduce me to the noble ways and show me around my new home. After all, who knows the palace better than its ruler?”
Miss Aster nodded, but Miss Collingwood and Miss Frieson glanced at each other. Their servers arrived with their beverages and treats, placed the saucers and plates on the table with perfect synchronization, then disappeared as quickly as they had come. The ladies all stirred their tea, blew across the top, and took dainty sips. Aya’s brows furrowed at the continued synchronization, and she wondered if this was all the socialization and activity they had to occupy themselves.
Miss Aster bounced in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. “Did the king’s education prove to be instructional?”
“I believe so. I feel that I have my bearings when I walk around the palace, both geographically and socially.” Aya waited for another question or some backhanded comment, but none came. She lifted her hot cocoa to her lips and drank, not bothering to cool it with her breath.
“So…” Miss Collingwood stirred her tea. “How do you like His Majesty?”
There it was, just as Aya expected. She was surprised the ladies had waited this long. “I cannot say I know him well enough to place sound judgment on his character, but he seems to be a kind man and a smart ruler.”
“Surely you must have gleaned more from him than that,” Miss Frieson prodded, tapping her spoon on the edge of her cup.
Aya tilted her head, pursing her lips to keep from smiling. “I do not know what you are implying.”
Of course she did. They wanted her to slip up, to show too much affection or admiration, to divulge to them her undying love for King Archon. Aya did not expect them to think highly of her, given her lowly background, but she had to admit that she was insulted. If they only knew how intelligent a poor girl could be, they would be terrified.
“It’s just that,” Miss Aster began, intertwining her fingers, “none of us have ever had much opportunity to speak with the king. And he is our ruler. Is that not a bit strange? We simply want to know more about the man who we entrust with our livelihoods, and you seem to know him better than anyone else we know. It is not as if we can, in good taste, interview the king’s valet or the prince.”