The Empress had pulled a hooded robe over her head and was crunching through a bag of corn puffs.
She and her shadow Hermes were crouched together in the shrubbery, both of them watching her nephew with great concentration.
“Goodness, Your Majesty. The duke is ‘terrifying’. I nearly wet myself just now.”
“‘Heh heh’—of course he is. Our Kael is the finest. Look at that presence. How could anyone stand against it without losing bodily function.”
The Empress flared her nostrils with evident pride and crunched another corn puff.
Hermes nodded in agreement and cast a glance at the retreating figures crawling away on their hands and knees.
“Indeed. Those wretched little creatures actually did, I think—their fronts look rather damp.”
“Filthy, contemptible creatures. See to it that they never set foot in my ballroom again, and have their households subjected to immediate tax audits.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Now, Hermes. Who is that woman?”
“Ah—the one with the honeyed blonde hair, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. The soft, round-faced one. What a pleasant impression she makes. Charming voice, too. ‘Hmm’. Did she come alone?”
The gala this evening had been hosted by the Lagrasse Foundation, an organization under the Empress’s patronage. On the surface she was merely one of its benefactors—but in truth, the foundation was run quietly under a pseudonym the Empress herself controlled.
Every attendee’s information was therefore in her possession. The guest list had been drawn from young nobility whose families were active donors to the foundation.
“Oh—she’s the daughter of Count Florence!”
“Florence… ‘oho’. Jane Florence’s daughter?”
The Empress knew Jane well.
Jane had been a regular patron of Lagrasse for years—and unlike most noble ladies, she had not missed a single month of contribution. It was not difficult for the Empress to recall her face.
A daughter who had inherited her mother’s heart would be quite a pleasing match for Kael…
“It would seem so. Quite something, isn’t it—to have a woman like that and still go wandering. I cannot fathom what possesses men.”
“Wandering? Who? She had someone?”
The Empress blinked.
“Had—past tense, Your Majesty. Earlier, while I was patrolling the garden, I came across someone in the bushes with a woman—’moving in a rather specific way’, shall we say—the movement of those buttocks has not yet left my mind—”
“‘Tch.’ So that wretched creature was her partner.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. And she broke it off on the spot.”
“Good heavens. It can’t have been easy to make that decision…what resolve the girl has.”
“On her way back to the hall she paused to share some of her snacks with a stray cat, Your Majesty. With a very warm smile.”
“Oh! She has a kind heart toward small creatures too!”
“Ah—and come to think of it, this handkerchief around Popo’s neck is hers as well.”
The Empress looked down at her lap, where her beloved cat Popo was curled.
“Goodness. ‘She’ tied this?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I saw it on my way back from the facilities earlier. That dress, that hair—it was most certainly the Florence girl.”
* * *
“Are you going to sit there all night?”
‘Sniff.’ Ivelina blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes. Then she squinted nervously up at the duke, who had, apparently, become somewhat frightening since last she looked.
“My—my legs gave out… they won’t work…”
Her tongue seemed to have loosened along with her legs.
She attempted several times to gather herself and stand, collapsing back down each time, an upended roly-poly toy refusing to stay upright.
Kael exhaled through his nose. He was not inclined to help. And yet.
‘Tch.’ He extended a hand.
“Take it and stand up.”
“‘Mm’—is that okay…?”
“Quickly.”
“‘Eep!’ Yes!”
Ivelina—startled by his expression—grabbed his hand and launched herself upward with a resolute little grunt, like a very brave puppy committing to a leap.
“‘Ugh’…”
“Wait—!”
She immediately lost her balance and fell face-first into his chest. He had no time to step back. The impact left a distinct imprint of a crumpled face in powder on his lapel.
“‘Ah’—I’m so sorry—!”
Ivelina lurched backward in alarm—and nearly toppled over backward. His free hand caught her at the waist.
“‘Oh’—!”
The grip lifted her off the ground. Her feet dangled in open air, and she blinked in befuddlement.
She let out a strange noise and began paddling her arms as though swimming through empty space.
He looked at her for a long, complicated moment. Then he sighed and lowered her carefully to the ground.
“As I suspected. You’re drunk.”
She hadn’t been making any sense from the beginning—he’d initially written that off as personality. But now that he was holding her, he caught it: a faint warm trace of alcohol beneath the softer fragrance she carried. Something sunny, like dried roses—it had masked the wine until now.
Ivelina tottered for a moment, then found her footing and scratched her cheek with a sheepish grin.
“I’m not drunk though…? I only had one glass…”
“Then why are you slurring.”
“This is just how I talk… ‘heh’. Oh! And—thank you for helping me! You didn’t have to do that!”
She bowed at the waist—once, twice, several times—nearly driving her head into the ground.
He pressed his fingers against his temple and concluded that this woman needed to be handed off to her companions immediately.
“Where are your party?”
“I don’t have any…”
“You came alone? Without a partner?”
“Oh…! I ‘had’ a partner! But he’s gone now!”
She launched into an unsolicited account of the entire situation, working herself up with every word.
“…Edwin was—like ‘this’—moving his hips—and he had some woman pinned down—and he was on top of her—making ‘terrible’ sounds—the sounds of what adults do when they’re bad—their bodies were moving together—! So I broke the engagement… and now I don’t have a partner anymore… ‘sigh’. I should just go home…”
“Where is your carriage.”
She scratched the back of her head with an apologetic grin.
“I rode in Edwin’s carriage so… I don’t have one… ‘heh’.”
“Then how exactly were you planning to get home?”
“What else can I do! I’ll walk! Bravely! By myself!”
She made two small fists and set her jaw with great determination.
He drew a slow, full breath. His chest rose and fell.
“At this hour of night. A woman alone. Walking home.”
“Completely doable! I know the way!”
She nodded with conviction.
“Is it close?”
“It’s an hour by carriage, so… about three hours walking!”
“Of course it is.”
He could feel his patience fraying at the seams if he kept talking to her. He let out a thin breath and stepped ahead of her.
“Never mind. Follow me. I’ll take you.”
“My goodness. What a kind person you are!”
Ivelina trotted after him like a baby rabbit.
At the front gate, his black lacquered carriage was waiting.
He handed her in, then loaded himself in after her, dropping heavily onto the bench. He looked across at her—sitting primly in the seat opposite—and asked without looking directly at her:
“Address.”
“I forgot… ‘heh’…”
He crushed his brow together.
“‘Haah’… I’m so sorry…! I’ll just get out, I’ll—”
Ivelina made the expression of a very pitiable dog.
Her eyes drooped at the corners in an instant, and the way her small round nose scrunched up in a wince was simply—
“…I didn’t say I was angry.”
“You looked like you were just now… ‘sniff’. ‘Hhk’.”
And then she was sniffling again.
“‘Ha’…”
He deliberated seriously.
‘Should I just leave her here?’
He couldn’t. He was an objective person by nature, and by objective assessment, Ivelina was spectacularly beautiful. A woman like this, wandering alone at night, would draw predators the moment he turned his back.
He tapped the carriage window.
“To the nearest hotel.”
He would deposit her in a room and leave.
* * *
