Page 33 of A Fragile Enchantment

“Very agreeable,” she replied as cheerfully as she could. “The prince regent is a very generous host.”

Rosa hummed pensively. “Yes, I suppose he is, isn’t he?”

“And you, Your Highness? Is this your first time in Sootham?”

“It is. I find it quite fascinating. The Avlish’s stuffy manners and dispassionate dances, their drab weather, their taste in art…” She trailed off. “Ah, but I suppose you are not here to listen to me drone on. Shall we discuss the design of the gown?”

“Of course! Did you have any ideas?”

“I would like the gown to be black lace.”

A light died within her. What did these royals have againstcolors? And the thought of making that much lace… Niamh shuddered. Infanta Rosa’s fashion sense was most unusual for a woman of her rank—at least by Avlish standards. It reminded Niamh a bit of home. Few people in Machland purchased new gowns for their wedding day. They typically wore their finest dark-colored gown. Easier to hide stains that way. But Infanta Rosa could purchase a new gown for every day of the week if she so chose.

“What about something more fun?”

“Fun,” Rosa repeated.

“I don’t know.” Niamh inspected the heaps of black fabric scattered across the room. “Perhaps something colorful?”

Rosa pulled a face. “I don’t do color.”

“Whatever do you mean? You would look so lovely in—” Rosa stared at her until Niamh had no choice but to say, “Actually, a black dress sounds very au courant.”

“It is the new fashion in Castilia,” she granted. “I imagine it will make an impression. Everyone here is so… bright.”

That much was true. The thought of the court’s faces when they beheld Rosa in a black gown delighted her more than she caredto admit. Niamh touched a hand to her mouth to hide her laugh. “Oh, itdefinitelywill.”

Rosa smiled, a barely perceptible curl of her lips. “If it isn’t much trouble, it would please my father if I wore a veil as well.”

Niamh couldn’t read her expression. From the little Niamh had seen of Rosa’s father, he seemed an overbearing man. She wanted to ask if it would pleaseherbut decided against it. She’d spoken out of turn with royals far too many times already. “And in terms of enchantments, what would suit you?”

“Enchantments?”

“I can stitch memories or emotions into the gown. If you want to look or feel a certain way…”

“Is that your blessing, then? I see why they hired you.” Rosa leaned back, assessing Niamh with a heavy-lidded stare. “Let’s see. Can you strike fear into the heart of anyone who looks at me?”

She struggled to keep the despair out of her voice. “Well, I…”

“No, you’re right. Another time, maybe,” Rosa relented. “Papa would be displeased. I’ll think about it. This wedding is shaping up to be very interesting indeed.”

Curiosity burned within her. While Kit tolerated her impertinence well enough, she didn’t know if Rosa would. But she and Miriam seem to be friends despite their difference in station, so she couldn’t rebuff Niamh too strongly for asking questions. “How so?”

Rosa crossed the room and settled in front of the chess board. Absentmindedly, she began to reset the pieces. “I confess, what I saw at last night’s ball intrigued me. I am no stranger to political unrest. When I was a child, my uncle usurped my father and banished my family from Castilia. We lived in exile for nearly a year, until my father returned and reclaimed his throne with lightning and bloodshed.”

Niamh shuddered at the image. She’d grown up on stories of violent revolution, but Rosa had lived it. What a life she must’ve led. “Doesn’t it frighten you, then?”

“Not anymore.” She watched Niamh through her eyelashes, her eyes aglow with something like purpose. “I have seen three regime changes in my lifetime. I have seen the mistakes of my forebears. If anything, I find politicking less dreadful than these infernalproceedings. The Avlish make such a fuss over weddings. As far as I’m concerned, it would be better to sign the contract and be done with it all.”

“But…” It slipped out before Niamh could stop herself. “That is so unromantic!”

“Weddings aren’t romantic. Not for the nobility.”

Niamh’s shoulders sagged.

“It isn’t so dreadful, Miss O’Connor, I assure you. This arrangement suits me well. I like chess, after all.”

“Chess? I don’t follow.”