A day had passed, and things seemed calmer. Margery and Cassane were recovering well. Adela, for her part, had been a bit gloomy, but she would bounce back.
"Master, Eleanor has sent a carriage to pick you up."
I looked at my maid. She watched me with a hint of depression as she helped me adjust the suit I would wear that day.
"Adela, stop blaming yourself. I'm not angry with you for what happened."
She bit her lip, holding back her frustration.
"But I'm the one in charge of handling the shadows. The fact that there wasn't anyone stronger protecting Margery that day…"
I knew nothing I said would change her mind, so I stepped closer, took her by the waist, and forced her to look me straight in the eyes.
"Snap out of it," I said firmly, trying to bring her back to reality. "These things happen, and many times we have no way of foreseeing them."
Her face flushed, and although she made a small pout, she nodded and lowered her gaze, trying to hide her thoughts.
Our interaction ended there. I ruffled her hair and left to meet my oh-so-delightful stepmother.
Eleanor's contemptuous gaze greeted me at the entrance. If she was going to keep that attitude, I didn't understand why she had bothered inviting me.
Once inside the carriage, she began her sermon:
"There will be many women of great influence present. Just so you know, the fact that I invited you doesn't mean you can humiliate me at this gathering."
I didn't let her continue and asked in a tired tone:
"Why am I really here, Eleanor?"
She frowned, visibly irritated.
"Someone I've been trying to impress for a while asked me to invite you. It seems your face catches the attention of people more important than I thought."
I raised an eyebrow.
"It must be someone very important for you to forget how much you hate your husband's 'leftover' son…"
She made an angry face and let out an annoyed huff, though she shifted uncomfortably, as if remembering that this leftover son was sometimes too much of an unknown for her.
Silence filled the rest of the journey, broken only when we arrived.
The "tea party" was being held in one of the numerous houses belonging to the Valois family in the capital. This particular one had an extensive garden, perfect for hosting events like this.
We were received by a butler who guided us to the venue. Even though I was prepared for it, seeing that all the guests appeared to be women slightly cracked my mask of indifference.
My presence immediately drew attention. The looks I received made me feel like a circus freak in front of a curious crowd. Eleanor, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention—even if it was questioned by those present—apparently backed by the event's organizer herself.
Cordelia Valois, the primary wife and Duchess of Valois.
Lately I've been having far too much contact with duchesses, I thought, remembering Selyne not long ago and the ever-recurring Sylvia.
Of all the duchesses I knew, she was the one who intrigued me the most. Not much was usually heard about her outside of the events she loved organizing.
Still, many believed that the true mind behind the Valois family's successes was hers.
Being an eighth-circle mage apparently hadn't slowed her cunning, and judging by what I could see, she seemed just as meddlesome as her daughter.
I had to endure being treated like a piece of art on display for quite a while until she finally appeared.
The look she gave me almost made me think Morgana had run to tell her what she saw the other day, but considering the invitation had been made before that, it had to be something else.
Eleanor tensed beside me when she saw her. Nervousness ran through her veins. As Cordelia approached us, she grabbed my arm and squeezed it tightly, unconsciously seeking relief.
When the duchess stood before us, she smiled. Although Eleanor seemed to want to say something, Cordelia ignored her and directed her gaze straight at me.
"I'm glad you accepted my invitation. I wasn't sure it would reach you properly, and since I heard you had rejected my daughter in the past, I thought you might do the same if it came from me."
I raised an eyebrow and replied, playing along with false politeness:
"It wouldn't make sense to reject an invitation to an event like this, especially when it's going to be full of beautiful women."
Cordelia laughed heartily, a crystalline sound that silenced the conversations around us for a second.
"Oh, pardon me, but hearing those words when most of the women here have already passed our prime…" She smiled like a cunning cat. "Cassian, right? I'd like to speak with you in a more private place, if that's alright with you."
I followed her to a room with two armchairs and a table in the middle. She motioned for me to sit while she prepared what looked like a tea set. Noticing my confused expression, she smiled.
"What? I'm a big tea enthusiast. I like preparing it myself. This is a tea party, remember?"
I didn't answer. I simply sat there, waiting for her to say what she really wanted from me. My silence didn't seem to please the duchess.
"You're very boring, you know?" She let out a sigh. "I don't know how Caelia took such a liking to you."
Caelia Demor. So it was true that Duchess Valois had a close relationship with her. Cordelia put on a mischievous expression when she saw she had managed to get a reaction out of me by mentioning her.
"I suppose you're starting to understand why I wanted to meet you. Though she probably won't be very happy to know we had this 'encounter.' But what can I say?" She shrugged and relaxed in the armchair across from me. "She never stops bragging about you to me, so I had to do something."
"You can consider this meeting a little joke on her. I've always enjoyed making her angry."
She took a sip of tea with an expression of absolute bliss.
"Mmm, this really is my favorite. Not so bitter that it hides its floral notes, nor so sweet that it becomes cloying. It's the perfect balance—something that someone with her impulsive personality could never fully appreciate."
"If you're trying to make her jealous, you should have served something stronger. Caelia likes things… less delicate. If she knew I was here drinking floral tea, she'd laugh at me."
She gave me a wide smile full of electric mischief that betrayed how much my answer had amused her.
"So 'strong,' huh… I wouldn't expect anything less from my friend," her exaggerated laughter rang out again. "I think you and I are going to get along very well."
The door opened at that moment, interrupting our conversation.
"Mother, I have something to ask you…" Morgana's voice died in her throat the moment she saw who was with her mother.
"Oh, Morgana, come in. Look, I believe you already know Cassian. We were talking about some amusing things. Don't make that face, you can say whatever you want."
But Morgana's face began to pale, and a tremor ran through her body.
"It… it doesn't matter. I can come back later, when you're not busy," she stammered.
Cordelia frowned, puzzled by her daughter's unusually insecure and skittish behavior. Morgana was normally the very image of confidence.
"What a shame you're leaving so soon, Morgana," I said, leaning back in my seat. "I was just thinking of telling your mother how much I appreciate people who know how to listen carefully… even when they think no one notices."
I said it in a playful, almost mocking tone, while Cordelia tilted her head, watching me with obvious confusion.
Morgana, on the other hand, gripped the door handle so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"Listen carefully?" the duchess repeated, looking at her daughter with suspicion. "Cassian, is there something she heard that I should know as well?"