The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(63)

He looked abashed and missed a step, but I was quick enough to recover for both of us. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry. I sound like a desperate fool, but I’m—you know what I’m facing, right? Governorship of Hadisen? At only twenty-three?”

“I’ve heard that as well. A great honor.”

“And a terrifying one,” he admitted. He glanced around uneasily. “I haven’t told anyone that, certainly not my father, who helped secure the post. I’m glad—I really am. But it’s not going to be easy, and I don’t just mean the labor of setting up the colony—which is certainly formidable. I want Hadisen to be a strong place. A good place of upstanding and prosperous citizens. Not everyone will let me do that. People are always watching you in politics—always wanting you to fail. Even when they pretend to be your friends.”

I didn’t speak and simply gave him a nod of encouragement. But he’d touched upon an old memory, the way the nobility in Osfrid also put on pleasant faces only to attack when advantageous. Even across the sea, some things didn’t change, and I found myself growing sympathetic to Warren Doyle.

“I have colleagues and advisors I think I can trust, but one can never be sure,” he continued. “And that’s why I need a smart, competent wife. My true ally. The one person I know I can trust, to give me good counsel while helping me keep up appearances with fashion and culture and all the other things the elite like to pick apart.”

“I don’t think you need much help with fashion and culture.” No matter what I’d said to Cedric, Warren was dressed exceptionally.

“I’m surrounded by powerful family here—and a mother who keeps up with trends. There? I’ll have nothing. Except you. And believe me when I’d say you’d have all you could dream of. Luxury at your fingertips. Complete control of the household.”

“Again—flattering,” I said. “But you don’t know anything about me, aside from my rank. There’s more to marriage than that. How do you know we’re . . . compatible?”

His answer was swift. “Because you haven’t instantly said yes. You’re a thinking woman, a woman who can assess things. And that, Adelaide, is exactly what I’m looking for—what I most admire.”

Cedric appeared at our side the instant the music ended. “Adelaide, it’s time for your next introduction.”

Warren caught hold of my hand as I stepped away. “Please— consider my offer. I know I must sound desperate and am certainly doing this all wrong—”

“Please, Mister Doyle,” said Cedric. He seemed a little surprised but mostly amused at what he no doubt considered more of Warren’s dizzy infatuation. “It’s time for her to go.”

Warren didn’t release me, even when I tried to remove my hand. “You’ll hear all sorts of offers tonight. All sorts of pretty words. You’re beautiful beyond compare, but ask yourself, how many want you for your wisdom? To be a partner?”

Cedric’s smile was gone. “Mister Doyle, your time is up—”

Warren was undaunted. “And how many will match the lifestyle I can give you? The queen of a colony?”

“That’s enough,” exclaimed Cedric, losing the civility. “You are not above the rules here, no matter your rank or resources, Mister Doyle. We’ve set down specific guidelines, and if you can’t follow them, our guards will have to remove you.” Cedric forcibly pulled me away, causing Warren to stumble and look understandably astonished.

“Did you just hear yourself?” I exclaimed, once Cedric had led me away. “I did. And so did several people nearby. You’d better hope your father doesn’t find out what you just said.”

“I don’t care about him.” Cedric’s dark expression showed he no longer found Warren Doyle amusing. “That’s twice now Doyle’s been out of line.”

“One last impassioned plea wasn’t exactly out of line,” I countered. “You could have been a little more diplomatic before turning to threats.”

My next dance was with a major in Denham’s army whose career was on the rise. He’d just been put in charge of leading soldiers out to Osfrid’s southernmost colonies to investigate Icori border raids. He waxed on about my beauty, making all sorts of poetic analogies, like how my eyes were the color of bluebells in the spring. After him came another magistrate, one who ranked higher than Mister Collins. He was followed by a bishop of Uros—a man who seemed far more concerned with worldly than spiritual affairs.

On they went, running together. I was eventually given a break and sat on the dais with Mira, trying to cool myself with a crystal-covered fan.

“It’s exhausting,” I said.

“Tell me about it,” she said, covertly rubbing her sore feet under the table.

“I take it more than a few men were fine with marrying a Sirminican?” I knew the answer; she’d been as busy as me.

“That remains to be seen,” she said with a sly smile. “It’s hard to know anything about them now. Mostly all they do is go on about my beauty and use pretty words.”

I glanced at her in surprise. “That’s almost exactly what Warren said.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “That all these men would try to flatter me—but that he was the only one who’d make on offer to me based on my qualities and his need to have a partner whose counsel he could trust.”