Tournament of Ruses

by Kate Stradling

  At least she had her brief glimpse of the Eternal Prince to draw upon, thanks to Edmund. “He was dressed very opulently, but covered from head to toe,” she lied.

  “That’s how he always dresses,” said Georgiana impatiently. “What was he like?”

  “Well, he—” She paused, glanced between the pair, and decided just to keep the tale as simple as possible. “He never said a word. It was a very brief introduction, and then I was dismissed. I’m afraid that’s all I can really report. He has a very nice library, though.”

  “Pooh, books,” said Georgiana, and she slumped back in her seat.

  “If the Prince likes books, shouldn’t you learn to like them as well?” Priscilla asked her impertinently.

  “I do like them,” she replied. “Why, Graham’s Lending Library is one of my favorite places to visit!”

  That was a rubbish response, Flora thought. When Georgiana said that she liked books, she meant that she could pretend to like books well enough to fool a suitor, if she needed to. Once she was secure in her position as consort, she would probably gut the library and turn it into an enormous closet for all of her new clothes.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of the brightly lit conservatory. Young men and women alike had braved the cold evening to attend this gala. A crowd choked the entry. Flora was crushed between mingling party-goers as Georgiana shoved her through to the coat-check. The tight-lipped once-over she gave Flora’s blue dress as they each removed their capes betrayed that it was entirely fitting for the occasion, much to Flora’s relief.

  The other attendees had sense enough to make way for the youngest daughter of Lord Winthrop, once her presence was known. The immediate area cleared and she proudly led Flora and Priscilla from the coat check to where Mrs. Olivette stood receiving her guests. Whispers followed the three girls down the line of on-lookers. Flora was the subject of many of these whispers, given the glances that accompanied them.

  Her father wanted their family to have influence among the nobility of Lenore; he would probably be pleased to see this sort of reaction from the scions of the most prominent houses. Flora, on the other hand, wished to vanish into the crowd. Such was not her luck. Mrs. Olivette gushed about how glad she was to see her. Grasping hands then pulled her into familiar embraces—first Augustina, followed closely by Dorothea, who had swallowed her dislike for the occasion. Had Flora been inclined to let her sudden prestige go to her head, she might have been in absolute euphoria.

  The gala consisted of light refreshment, games, and dancing. Flora was beset with partners as soon as she set foot in the lovely space that had, for tonight, been designated a ballroom.

  Luckily she did know how to dance. The different styles were taught in the country just as much as in the city, and Flora had received lessons from a dancing master for her last two years of school. She was light on her feet and glad that she could keep up with her partners, all of whom complimented her far too much for her liking. After several successive dances—so many that she had lost count, and she had no hopes of remembering the names of all her partners—she begged for a chance to rest. The young men obliged, and Flora slipped away to the most secluded corner of the room, where a pair of empty chairs beckoned for her.

  The dancers on the floor were almost magical, dressed in their finest beneath the twinkling lights of a very grand chandelier. Mrs. Olivette had gone above and beyond in her decorations. Flora could not understand the purpose of a gala to celebrate the start of the Consorts’ Tournament; neither could she understand why all the young men seemed so enthusiastic about it: they were, prospectively, dancing with the future wife of their ruler and protector. How did that benefit them at all?

  Her contemplation of this subject came to an abrupt halt when a figure stepped into her periphery. Flora looked up; fledgling relief budded within her to see a familiar face.

  Her relief was short-lived.

  “And what, pray tell, are you doing here?” asked Charles Moreland with a scowl.

  Flora had no patience for his displeasure tonight, having endured it during her lessons for the better part of a week. If he wasn’t going to be civil, neither was she. “I’m trying to fade into the wall. Go away or you’ll call attention to me.”

  “You call attention to yourself,” he retorted and, contrary to her instruction, he dropped into the chair next to hers. He looked very fine in his dress uniform. Flora pointedly returned her gaze to the dance floor.

  “I didn’t ask for the attention,” she said petulantly. Charlie scoffed, which caused her eyes to snap back to his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You chose to keep your post as guardian,” he replied. “That’s just as good as asking.”

  “No one’s supposed to know about that!” she hissed, and she glanced self-consciously around them. She had selected her corner of retreat well, though. Most of the party was either on the dance floor or passing between rooms to view the other guests’ activities. For the moment she and Charlie went unnoticed.

  “Everyone knows now that you’re in thick with the Prince himself,” Charlie answered, and he sounded bitter. “I could hardly believe it. One day, Father says he’s going to offer a replacement for your guardianship, and the next he’s bringing you straight into the Prince’s apartments. What, you couldn’t give up the chance to get that much more in the Prince’s favor?”

  “My dad made that decision, not me,” Flora said flatly.

  “But you’re reaping the benefits, aren’t you?” he replied, and then he laughed cynically. “I mean, it’s been less than a week since you were attacked and practically killed! You’ve only just returned to your home, and the first thing you do is come out to celebrate the Prince’s search for a consort? Could you be any more obvious?”

  She could not believe her ears. “Reaping the benefits?” she echoed incredulously. “Do I look like I’m enjoying myself? I was practically dragged from my house by Georgiana and Priscilla, who gave me all of fifteen minutes to get ready and then actually complained that I took so long! I’ve been passed from partner to partner since almost the moment I arrived. My shoes are rubbing blisters on my feet, and my one blissful moment of solitude was interrupted so that I could carry on this delightful conversation. You don’t bother with me at the palace when you’re supposed to be teaching me. I wonder that you would bother with me here when you’ve no reason whatsoever to go so out of your way. And what are you doing here, anyway? Why are any men here celebrating the Prince’s search for a consort?”

  He had trained his eyes upon the dance floor during this bitter speech. Flora wouldn’t have been at all surprised if he excused himself from her presence right then and there. Charlie was made of sterner stuff, though.

  “I’m here because I was invited,” he said shortly. “It’s much the same with everyone else, I’d wager. Contrary to the beliefs of the consort hopefuls,” he added with a significant glance in her direction, “we men understand perfectly well that the Prince is only going to choose one bride.”

  Flora fought the urge to make a face. “I’m fairly certain that all the consort hopefuls understand that as well.”

  “Do they? It’s a wonder that anyone bothered to apply, if so. This whole event is a farce, yet you all flock to it like ducks to a pile of breadcrumbs!”

  Enlightenment dawned upon her. “Is that what you’re so upset about?” she asked in wonder. “The Prince announces he wants to take a consort, and suddenly every girl in town wants to fill that position, so you’re jealous?”

  “What’re you going on about?” he replied scornfully. “What the Prince decides is his own business. There’s absolutely no reason for me to be jealous of him, I assure you, especially since I know for a fact that he’s going to marry my own sister.”

  “But it still rankles you to know that so many women would clamor for his attention,” said Flora perceptively.

  “Because it’s a farce,” he repeated. “He’s going to marry Viola!”
>
  “What about Will?” she asked.

  Charlie’s eyes darted about the room, and his jaw clenched. “What about him?”

  “What if your sister decides to marry him instead?” Flora pressed.

  He laughed. “It doesn’t matter what she decides, as long as she doesn’t do something foolish like elope—and Viola’s sensible enough not to do that. Were you hoping to comfort Will in his time of heartbreak? Word to the wise—you should give up that notion immediately.”

  “Since I never had such a notion in the first place, there’s nothing to give up,” said Flora, a quick blush upon her cheeks. That he could think her capable of such machinations rankled her. “Really, if you’re going to be so unpleasant, you’re welcome to leave at any time.”

  “Can I?” he sarcastically replied. He didn’t budge from his chair.

  “I wish you would,” Flora muttered.

  “Well, unfortunately, unlike your home on Lords’ Row, Mrs. Olivette’s Conservatory has not been specially warded against visits from forest creatures,” said Charlie with a grim frown. “Why a helpless guardian would take it on herself to leave the safety of her home and come out alone in the dark of night is beyond me, but since you’ve done just that I can’t exactly abandon you to whatever malevolent beasts may be lurking.”

  She stared, openly so, uncaring of what any casual observer might think. The very idea that those shadow-shifters—or any other insidious creature, for that matter—could attack her on these premises had never occurred to her.

  “There were supposed to be wards around the city walls,” she said. She was sure someone had mentioned as much. “They shouldn’t be able to get into the city at all.”

  “Not on their own,” Charlie allowed, “but plenty of people come and go through the city gates every single day. All a creature of magic has to do is convince someone else to carry it past the wards.”

  “But no one would do such a thing!”

  “Don’t kid yourself. We’ve already caught half a dozen girls trying to sneak into the woods, wanting to make pacts with the magic creatures there to get some kind of advantage in this ridiculous tournament. For all my father’s talk of care in spreading rumors, he certainly didn’t foresee this outcome when he spread the one about the attack on your house.”

  Her throat constricted in rising panic. Charlie, whose attention had been fixed on the pattern of dancers in front of them, slid his eyes her direction. The terror he saw reflected on her face caused him to straighten in his chair.

  “Now wait just a minute! Don’t go flying into hysterics. Just because they could come here doesn’t mean they will. Would you please breathe?”

  Flora forced a shuddering inhale through her lips. Abruptly she stood.

  “What’re you doing?” asked Charlie.

  Primal wrath flooded through her initial terror. She was sick of all of this, sick of being in constant peril, sick of being so weak, sick of needing others to look after her.

  “I’m going home,” she said. Before she could move, he bounded out of his chair and seized her by the elbow. Flora shook him off. “You needn’t come with me. I’ll brave the monsters on my own. If anything does manage to get me, you can count yourself absolved of any further tutoring sessions!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he told her.

  “You don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted childishly. “I can’t even walk out my front door without having to worry about some malicious creature chasing after me. All I ever wanted was to live quietly! I didn’t ask to get entangled in any of this! Maybe it would be better if something did get me!”

  “You’re drawing attention,” Charlie said under his breath, and he glanced to one side where a cluster of girls whispered as they watched the two.

  Flora saw them and knew instantly that she alone was not the cause of their hushed conversation. “You’re drawing attention,” she replied. “No one ever pays me any heed except when I’m mixed up with someone from the palace.”

  Then, she turned on her heel and left. Charlie followed, of course, all the way to the coat check. He asked for his coat right alongside Flora.

  “Stop following me,” she commanded.

  “I already told you it’s not safe for you to go home alone. You might meet with some disaster on your way.”

  “I’ll certainly meet with some disaster if I’m seen leaving here with you,” said Flora caustically. “Georgiana Winthrop will show up on my doorstep tomorrow morning first thing, and with that poisoned tongue of hers she’ll say, ‘Oh, dearest Flora! Prissy and I were ever so worried last night when we couldn’t find you, but then so-and-so told us that you left with Charles Moreland—dear Charles, such a gallant boy! Were you not feeling well, Flora?’ And then she’ll expect some explanation for why I was so audacious as to leave a party without her consent and with you as an escort, and if I try to tell her you insisted on following me, I’ll only look like I’m grasping above my station. You might think she’s throwing herself whole-heartedly at the Prince, but I guarantee that if she fails there, you’re her second choice, and any girl who gets in her way can expect a social shunning for the rest of her life!”

  Having said this, she snatched her cape from the gaping porter—who had listened to her spot-on impersonation of Georgiana Winthrop with awe—and marched straight for the door.

  Behind her, Charlie tipped the porter an extra coin. “That’s for forgetting you ever saw either of us,” he said. He took his coat and followed.

  He caught up to her at the street. “I told you I’m going alone,” said Flora peevishly.

  “I told you I can’t very well let you, under the circumstances,” he answered. “If something really were to happen to you, how would I be able to live with myself?”

  “I’m sure you’d manage quite nicely.”

  For all her bravado, she really was nervous to make the walk. It would only take her ten minutes, but that was ten minutes alone on a dark night, with pools of street-lantern light that only cast darker shadows around them. Flora’s mettle was tested not twenty yards from Mrs. Olivette’s door. As they passed an alley, a crash from among the shadows caused her to jump and immediately latch onto Charlie’s arm.

  An alley cat skittered across their path and bounded to the other side of the street. Flora detached herself from her makeshift shield, ruing the part of her brain that girlishly noted what a nice, strong shield he made. She glowered up at his smug face.

  “Not a word,” she hissed. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “It would be ungentlemanly of me to say it,” said Charlie with utmost decorum.

  “Yes, and you’ve been ungentlemanly enough for one evening. I suppose as the Prime Minister’s son and heir-apparent you can get away with all sorts of horrible manners.”

  “Excuse me?” he said archly.

  “You heard me, and you know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” Flora retorted, and she picked up her pace.

  Unfortunately, her legs were not as long as Charlie’s. He easily kept his stride even with hers. “It seems to me that you have an irrational prejudice against anyone of status,” he said.

  “It’s not irrational at all,” Flora replied. “I’m in the situation I’m in because the Prince had the nerve to elevate a mere magistrate to a position of nobility. My dad entered the House of Lords with nothing but his reputation, which all the other lords deem as important as the dirt beneath their feet, and which means that I’m left to make nice with the other lords’ daughters and to seek the Prince’s good graces in whatever capacity I possibly can, or else risk disgracing my dad and my family’s good name. And all the while I have the privileged elite looking down their noses at me. If you were in my position, you’d have a prejudice against anyone of status too!”

  He slowed to a stop. Flora should have left him there, but instinct made her turn back. “Well? What of it? No snappy comebacks or accusations?”

  Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets and resumed
walking. “Why do all girls have to be so dramatic?” he demanded as he strode past her. “The way you talk, it’s like the world has come to an end or something.”

  Flora hurried to keep pace with him. “Thank you very much, but my world has come to an end. The townhouse I have to live in now is miles from where I grew up. My friends and social circle have completely changed, and on top of that, suddenly I’m expected to be a magician and learn an esoteric language on my own study, with threats on my life looming in every shadow? You might be used to pools of blood in your garden and monsters attacking out of the blue, but those events were never part of my life before I came here!”

  He made no immediate response. Flora took this as an encouraging sign, that he might actually be considering the merit of her words, until he bluntly remarked, “But you sort of asked for it, didn’t you? I mean, you’ve just gone along with everything so far.”

  She could not believe her ears. “You are impossible!”

  “I’m right, aren’t I? You go wherever you’re led and do whatever you’re told. Even tonight, by your own admission, you allowed yourself to be dragged from your home to a party. If you’re really so against these things—”

  His words came to an abrupt halt as Flora shoved him with all her might into a drift of snow. Charlie stared up at her from the ground, wide-eyed. She loomed over him in seething fury.

  “Go where I’m led and do what I’m told?” she repeated. “Not putting up a fuss when people order me around is tantamount to asking them to walk all over me? Why don’t I start asserting myself right here, then? I don’t want you following me any further, Mr. Moreland. I can get home on my own, thank you very much.” And to emphasize her point, she kicked a pile of snow into his face before she stalked away down the street.

  She didn’t look back. They had already reached Lords’ Row, and she could see her porch steps at the end. In her present mood, she didn’t care if some horrible creature crawled out of the shadows and attacked. She was angry enough to tear it to pieces with her bare hands.