Page 6

“I’m glad to hear you say that, my Lady.” Darady rose as well. “Keep those intentions front and centre. Especially this coming Saturday, since she’s planned a grand ball to celebrate your return. Kicked that off as soon as we got news that you were coming home.”

“And you know very well she’s gone and invited every eligible and rich bachelor she could find in Caelemar. Set it up for this weekend.” Inky’s tentacles waved around in righteous indignation. “So be ready.”

Maelin shivered. “So soon? Where’s my uncle in all this?”

“At his club. Damn near lives there now, if you’ll excuse my saying so.” Darady’s lip curled in disgust. “Can’t blame him, though. When he’s here, she’s bothering him like a hungry brass-winged beetle-fly. I’ve known your uncle most of his life, and I still can’t fathom why he married her. But what’s done is done.” She exchanged a glance with Inky. “It’s our job to keep you safe and happy, my Lady. You can bet your best boots we’ll do our best.”

“And I’ve got eight of these...” Inky waved her tentacles. “Put something hard in each of ‘em, and I’ll teach her a lesson, all right.”

Maelin couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s so good to be home, you know. I missed you both quite dreadfully.”

“And we missed you too,” answered Darady. “So now we’re here together. And we’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you out of harm’s way.”

“I still want a whack at her,” mumbled Inky. “Just bear that in mind.”

*~~*~~*

Even though she’d been gone from Caelemar for quite some time, the city was still as familiar to Maelin as the back of her hand. Her arrival back at Theryn House had not gone unnoticed, and before the sun had fully risen on her second day home, notes and invitations began to appear on the table beside her breakfast.

Since she was eating alone in the smaller dining room, she had no hesitation in opening them as she ate.

The familiar taste of her mistpear, the soft white flesh tart-sweet with a hint of berry, made her smile, as did the pot of Crownmist tea, toast, and honey that accompanied it. An elegant breakfast that Maelin relished with a murmur of delight.

Unfortunately, her correspondence did not contribute anything pleasant to this delicious meal.

The first four cards were from people she vaguely remembered. One she actively disliked.

Then there were the little notes of ‘welcome’, which were nothing more than ill-concealed pokes for information as to why she had returned. Had she responded to, or invited, any of those people? She’d have given the gossips fodder for weeks.

Caelemar, she knew, thrived on gossip. Much of it open, in the streets, at tables in the cafes, in the aisles of the Emporiums—even on the wharves and embankments of the Sea of Echoes, where parks and seats had been built for the upper crust of Caelemar to rest in the sunshine and contemplate the magnificent waters. Well, she wasn’t going to add to any of it.

Maelin made short work of almost all the papers lying by her plate.

Except for one.

She couldn’t help smiling as she read the brief note.

“You’re home at last? About time. Couldn’t stand getting your feet wet, I’ll wager. I’m coming to see you, so you’d better let me in... because I missed the coggles out of you,

Your friend in short petticoats, Alla

Maelin let out a tiny squeak of excitement. Her friend. Her best friend, and yes, she had defied everyone with her short petticoats. Just the memory of their instructress’s face at school when Alla had strolled into their lecture hall with her skirts hiked up into her belt, her petticoats barely showing, and a pair of aeronaut’s boots buckled up to her thighs—Maelin’s breakfast got a whole lot brighter, and she polished off her toast, washing it down with her tea, eager to get started on a day which she had assumed would be nothing out of the ordinary.

“More notes, my Lady,” a maid brought them in on a small silver platter.

“Oh dear,” sighed Maelin. “Just when I thought I was done with them.” She smiled at the girl. “But thank you anyway. It was kind of you to bring them up for me.”

The girl beamed and dropped a curtsey.

At that moment, a trill of laughter rippled through the small room.

“Oh goodness me, dear sweet child. There’s no need to gush over an Unmarked, you know. They do what they’re paid to do. You should reserve those beautiful smiles for those who will be able to fully appreciate them.”

Maelin rose slowly, staring at the woman approaching the table. She was beautifully dressed in the studied elegance of a woman who knew precisely what flattered her, blonde curls at the back of her head catching the sunshine, and brilliant blue eyes fixed on Maelin’s face.

“I can see I’ve caught you by surprise,” she laughed, a sweet sound that echoed around the room. “I’m your aunt, dear child. Your Aunt Varelle. I’d be so happy to have you call me that, since I’ve never enjoyed the delights of a niece before. Especially one as beautiful as you.”

She reached out a hand gracefully, just touching Maelin’s hair.