Page 29 of A Fragile Enchantment

Perhaps she was still dreaming.

Because if she wasn’t, then it seemed she’d stumbled into some sort of covert blackmail operation. It was almost… invigorating. Never in her life did she expect something so utterly extraordinary to happen to her. Who would have thought that a girl from a village like Caterlow would be recruited to conspire against the prince regent?

Oh, gods. She’d been recruited to conspire against the prince regent.

But Lovelace had given her a choice, and she did not have to agree. As much as she wanted the Crown to admit its wrongdoing, as much as she wanted to fight alongside her people, she could not risk it. She and her family depended on Jack’s favor and patronage. Besides, she possessed all the subtlety of a flock of peacocks. If she made an earnest effort to spy on the royal family, she’d almost certainly fail. Discovery would mean a death sentence.

The man can’t stand to let a problem go unsolved for five minutes,Kit told her last night,and as you just saw, he’s avoiding all of his at the moment. There has to be some reason.

No, no, no. As curious as she was, she could not embroil herself in the Carmines’ affairs. Now that Jack had been made a fool of in his own home, social pressure would force him to agree to the protesters’ demands. Lovelace had almost certainly skewered him in today’s column. She paged through the newspaper until she foundThe Tattler.

What an opening night. It seems, to no one’s surprise, that our very own Wayward Son shall be the undisputed star of this Season. Say of him what you will, but he is more of an entertainer than his brother will ever be. After sporting an ill temper all night—and refusing to so much as glance at his fiancée—he took quite a spill down the stairs.

I’ve heard all manner of speculation as to why. Some of you, no doubt, will say he still keeps that custom of his. Others—if you are foolish enough to believe a word of what comes out of Lady E’s mouth—will claim he was creating a distraction. Evidently, she discovered him alone with a young lady on the balcony. A paramour would certainly explain his lack of interest in his lovely bride-to-be… And yet, I am inclined to think that he wanted to take some of the heat off a Certain Someone.

He will need to try harder next time to compete with a Dance-Floor-Turned-Protest-Artwork. I am sad to report that our Castilian guest, an Illustrious Gentleman, did not feel honored by this year’s chalk design. If you were stationed in the northeast corner of the ballroom, you may have overheard the Illustrious Gentleman scolding CS for embarrassing his beloved, obedient daughter, who—and I quote—has never asked for a thing in her life.

If this does not entice CS to meet with Mistress HC, I anticipate this is only the beginning of a very tense Season. No party will be safe—not even yours, dear reader. If you want to spare yourself the humiliation, perhaps consider paying your servants a living wage—or float the idea of reparations to Machland in Parliament’s next session. But who am I to offer advice? I am a humble columnist, not a politician.

That washerin theTattler.

This Lady E, whoever she was, had seen her. If anyone recalled a girl with a silver lock of hair slipping out of the ballroom aroundthe time of the prince’s “accident,” they’d make the connection. Just like that, her entire life unraveled like a loose stitch pulled and pulled to its end. She’d leave the palace in disgrace. She’d never find work again. She’d return to Caterlow, watching more of her friends leave, until she was left to wither away in that shop while her family slowly starved.

No, she could not spiral yet.

Lovelace did not seem to know that the young lady was her, or else they would have mentioned it in their letter. Still, her heart beat wildly in her throat with exhilarated terror. How close they’d come to exposure. She’d have to be more careful from now on, which meant no spying andcertainlynever again finding herself alone on a balcony with Kit Carmine.

Easy enough,she thought.

But the problem of her missing payment remained. In the chaos of the past few days, it must have fallen through the cracks. She considered seeking out Mrs. Knight, but Jack had handled all matters of her employment here thus far. The very thought of visiting the prince regent in his study without an invitation mortified her, but what else could she do? Sinclair had told her Jack preferred to manage things himself.

It took only a few wrong turns—and a few desperate pleas for help—for a maid to take pity on her and show her the way to Jack’s study. As Niamh climbed the imperial staircase, the maid called after her, “If you ask me, I’d wait until tomorrow to speak with him. He’s got the prince in there now.”

Well, that did not bode well.

When she at last found the study, Jack’s muffled voice filtered out from within. “I do not have time for this sort of nonsense, Christopher. My court, your future father-in-law, Carlile, that insufferable columnist—even mystaff,for God’s sake—are breathing down my neck. And now, you have decided to cause problems. To what can I credit this extraordinary lapse in judgment?”

Kit’s reply came too quietly to hear. Curiosity got the better of her. Niamh crept closer and strained to listen in on their conversation.

“I do not want to hear excuses from you.” Jack drew in a deep breath, gathering his temper like reins in his hands. “I know this has not been an easy transition for you. However—”

“And whose fault is that?”

Jack laughed bitterly. “Who is she?”

“No one.” A petulant, flustered note crept into Kit’s voice. In any other circumstance, Niamh might have laughed. Gods, he wasterribleat lying. No wonder he was always so blunt. Then, with a meaner bite, he said, “Who’s to say it’s a woman?”

“Do not play games with me,” Jack replied icily. But the long, considering pause that followed suggested Kit had caught him off guard. “You cannot go gallivanting about with whomever you please in plain sight of Infanta Rosa and her father. You will jeopardize everything I have taken such pains to secure for you, and you will drag your nameandmine through the mud. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Kit muttered. “Although from what I saw last night, I’m not the only one who needs to worry about dragging our name through the mud.”

“Enough.” Jack sounded dangerous now, his voice pitched low. “You are engaged to the Princess of Castilia, which is far better than you could have hoped for. She is a respectable girl with a strong magical bloodline. I made a list of every eligible young lady on the continent, and she met every single one of my criteria.”

“And was ‘will Kit get along with her?’ on your list?”

“That isn’t important—not to mention an impossible task! I could have brought you the most beautiful, well-bred, meek woman in the world, and you would still find fault with her.”

“I’m marrying her. What’s the problem? Do I have to pretend to be happy about it, too?”