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Authors: Richelle Mead

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BOOK: The Glittering Court
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Mira drew a lot of attention when she entered. In my opinion, she was the most beautiful of the group. Jasper might have grumbled, but I had no doubts that many men would be glad to have her as a wife, Sirminican or not. Thinking of her spirited nature, I thought the trouble might come in her consenting to be a wife. It made me smile, just as I met Warren Doyle's eyes in the crowd. He smiled back, thinking I'd done it for him.

When we were all seated, the high-society decorum degenerated a little. Cedric, Jasper, Charles, and Aiana were immediately solicited for introductions, with suitors and their representatives lining up to get a chance at us.

Mira, seated on my left, remarked, “It's going to be a long night.”

Despite what seemed like initial disorder, things soon progressed. Cedric came for me and took my arm, escorting me across the floor. “Ready to meet your greatest admirer?” he asked.

“I thought you were my greatest admirer.”

“I'm just a humble man. Not an absurdly rich and doting future statesman.”

I studied Warren Doyle as we approached. His face was alight, and he shifted excitedly from foot to foot. His coat was cut like Cedric's,
fitted and buttoned to the neck in a bronze shade. He looked like he was trying to remain calm and serious, but his face broke into a grin as we grew closer.

“If it makes you feel better,” I said softly, “I like your coat better.”

“Well, don't tell the poor guy. I think he'd burst into tears if he knew you thought less of him.”

I managed to stop myself from laughing, but a grin still crept out—which Warren again thought was for him.

“Mister Warren Doyle,” said Cedric with no trace of his prior teasing. “May I present Miss Adelaide Bailey.”

I gave the delicate curtsey driven into us at Blue Spring, and Warren took my hand, still smiling broadly as he shook it. “I know I should be more decorous, but I can't help it . . . I'm just too excited. You probably think I'm uncivilized.”

I smiled back, amused at his nervous eagerness. “Not at all, Mister Doyle.”

Cedric gave a small bow and a wink to me that Warren didn't see. “I'll leave you two to talk, and then I'll come back for your next introduction.”

He left, just as the string quartet began to play. Warren held out his hand and swept me into a dance. “You must call me Warren,” he said. “I like to be straightforward.”

“That's what I hear. You may call me Adelaide.”

“I know our time tonight is brief. And I know you'll have a dozen men trying to turn your head with all sorts of charm and pleasantry.” He paused. “I'm not always so good at that—at idle small talk, simply for appearance's sake. I know some ladies like that, but as I said—”

“You're straightforward,” I finished.

“Exactly. If I know what I want, I pursue it. And I'll be honest, I want you. While we were waiting for your ship to arrive, I knew without a doubt I would come asking for the star of your cohort. Seeing you at the dock only confirmed my decision. And seeing you now . . .” He shook his head. “Well, I'll tell you simply. I didn't look at any of
the other girls out there tonight. You truly are a diamond. And I can't imagine any other wife but you.”

Even knowing what I did about him, I was bit overwhelmed. “Wow . . . you come on very . . .”

“. . . straightforward?”

I laughed. “Yes, but I think ‘strong' was what I had in mind. Or maybe ‘intense.' You're very kind—very flattering. But I don't know that I deserve this when we hardly know each other.”

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.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I didn't hear anything remotely like that from my lot tonight. I still think that initial offer was presumptuous, but . . .”

“But?”

“Maybe you shouldn't dismiss him so quickly.”

“Why, Mirabel Viana, I never thought you'd say such a thing.”

She scoffed. “Well, that was before I'd heard my hair likened to the night sky.”

“Was it the major?”

“Yes,” she said, and we both fell into laughter.

We said little after that, enjoying our brief rest. We watched the crowd, the other girls dancing and flirting with their admirers. Most had overcome their initial shyness and were soaking up the attention. Clara in particular seemed to be loving it. She was dancing with the major, and I wondered what compliments he had for her. Apparently, he was trying to increase his odds by talking to all of us.

Mira suddenly stood up, a look of surprise on her face. “What is it?” I asked.

“I . . . it's nothing. But I need . . . I need to check something. I'll be right back.”

She hurried down the dais without a glance. I looked around, trying to spot what had caught her notice, but all I saw was a sea of faces.

Soon, I was swept back up into the great game. When the party finally dispersed, nearly five hours had passed. The excitement and adrenaline had faded, and I only wanted my bed. My feet ached. As soon as I was back in the antechamber, I slumped against the wall, closing my eyes in relief.

Someone's arm linked through mine. “Easy there, my lady. Don't pass out yet.”

I opened my eyes. “I told you not to call me that.”

“I don't think anyone would think I was being literal tonight. Can you walk?”

“Of course.” I straightened up, and Cedric slipped his arm farther around my back, letting me lean into him. Other girls were helping each other as well, all of us worn out as we made our way to the carriages.

“It'll be a lot easier after this,” he said. “Smaller parties. Private homes. One-on-one visits at the house. This was just to get their attention.”

“I hope it worked.”

“For you it did. I had to turn away droves of them. There just wasn't time.”

“Well, I hope you picked only the ones who—” I came to a halt near the carriage he was leading me to and glanced around. “Where's Mira?”

Cedric looked as well. It was nearly the middle of the night, and the scene behind the hall was one of chaos, filled with horses and coaches and Jasper's hired men. The girls glittered a little less now, and there was no need for the earlier meticulous order. Mostly we wanted to get in a carriage and go home.

“She's here somewhere,” Cedric said. “Probably already inside one of these. Come on.”

He started to help me into one of the coaches when a voice behind us said, “Adelaide?”

We both turned to see Warren Doyle approaching. I stepped back down. “How did you get through?” exclaimed Cedric. “Those guards are supposed to keep everyone out.”

“Mister Thorn, I'm the governor's son. They don't keep me out of any place.” Warren studied Cedric a few moments and then turned his enamored smile on me. “Adelaide, I know more invitations will flood your door now, so I wanted to issue mine in person. My hope is I'll get to call on you soon. But my mother is also hosting a dinner in a few nights, and we would love for you to join us. Along with a couple of other girls, of course.”

“That's very kind,” I said. “I'm sure—”

“We'll check her schedule and get back to you,” Cedric interrupted. “As you said, we'll no doubt receive other invitations. And there are rules to be followed.”

Warren looked Cedric over. “You're very big on rules, Mister Thorn. I admire your integrity.”

“We'll be in touch,” Cedric said pointedly.

“Thank you for the invitation,” I said, offering Warren a smile in the hopes of relieving the tension. He smiled back, bowed, and then melted into the crowd.

I glared at Cedric. “It's like you don't even
want
a big commission.”

He thought about it a moment. “I do. But maybe not from him.”

“Why not?”

“I just don't think I like him.”

“You don't even know him!”

“I know he's arrogant and full of himself.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Adelaide.” He leaned toward me, dangerously and improperly close. “You saw how he was. How arrogant he acted.”

“To
you
. Because you were provoking him. I'm not saying that I want to run off with him here and now, but we certainly can't cross him off yet. That's my decision to make—not yours.” I glanced around and pitched my voice low. “We're supposed to be working together on this! I can't do my job here if you offend every suitor who comes my way.”

“Your job?”

“Yes,” I said. “I can read men. I know their romantic intentions better than you ever will.”

Cedric's voice was snide. “Right. I'm sure you learned all about men's ‘romantic intentions' after years of desperately throwing yourself at them in stuffy ballrooms. How exactly did that work out for you, my lady?”

BOOK: The Glittering Court
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