Dusk trotted along at an even pace, letting me think. His dark gray coat and black mane caught occasional rays of sun, his powerful muscles rolling beneath his skin. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on lessening the pressure in my head.

“Dammit Stone,” I muttered. I couldn’t shake the mixture of anger and guilt conversations like this caused. He knew what bringing her up did to me, which was probably why he hadn’t done it in years.

I lifted my gaze heavenward, the sky glowing with beams of light from the sun on the farther half of the sky.

“I gave you my word, and I’m going to keep it,” I whispered to the shifting air. The sky seemed so large and open. The gentle rocking of Dusk’s flank paired with the sound of his horseshoes clacking against the stones soothed my frayed nerves. I reached down and patted his shoulder.

“You’re a good boy, Dusk,” I said, and he nickered softly in reply. I leaned forward on him, seeking the warmth from his neck. It was cold and getting colder by the minute as the sun crept toward the horizon. As usual, I preferred to turn my mind off and let Dusk take me home.

And as usual that was promptly interrupted.

“What, so you were just going to leave me at the tavern?” A voice came from a single-person buggy. I looked to my side and Myra sat there, hair slightly ruffled. A harassed-looking Zachariah rode behind her on his horse, a white mare he had named Wind.

“That’s very rude Miss Rowena,” Myra went on stiffly. I met eyes with Zachariah over her shoulder before settling my gaze back forward.

“Well, howdy there Myra. I must say seeing you twice in one day is a fitting way to continue this fine evening,” I said, dry as desert air. The sarcasm was not missed by Myra, who narrowed her eyes.

“Well, you’re about to see me three times. As my maid of honor, we still have to get fitted for our dresses with Mother tonight,” she said.

“And the good news just keeps comin!” I groaned, whatever calm I had gotten from the ride steaming away like a railway engine. Myra’s complexion turned pink in the late afternoon light.

“And I already told you, you’re supposed to call me Lady Beaufoutonte!” she said, jabbing her parasol into the bottom of the buggy with each syllable like she wished my face were there.

“And I already told you, not a chance on this Earth am I going to call you that title,” I said calmly as I patted Dusk again. He picked up some speed and we started to pull away from Myra’s buggy.

Myra cracked her reins and the buggy pulled even with us again.

“Why is it so much to ask for you to just treat me like an adult?” Myra asked. She was twisted in her seat awkwardly and had both hands on her hips. Several fire-colored hairs hung in her face, and she took a moment to blow them away.

“When you act like one I’ll treat you like one. Besides, I still remember the days you used mud to draw Elemancer tattoos on your face,” I replied, making Myra turned a darker shade of pink. She inhaled as if readying to mount another attack, but I cut her off.

“Don’t worry, I plan to go out of my way to have us interact as little as possible, Myra.”

“Well believe me, this is about as good of a time for me as it is for you,” she quipped back and then muttered, “How you and Levi are related by blood is a mystery to me.”

I have a feeling most things are a mystery to you, I thought.

I started to open my mouth to say exactly that but then settled into the saddle more comfortably.

“Too easy,” I muttered, and I saw Zachariah smirk. I looked back at him more fully and he shot me a questioning look.

“Is Thumper watching the Sparrow for you?” I asked him and he nodded. I nodded in return, knowing Zachariah would want to get back as soon as possible. Thumper was a good bartender, but tended to attract trouble. Many nights he ran the tavern ended in broken stools and tables.

“You can probably go on back Zachariah. I got it from here,” I said. He hesitated, then shook his head. His emerald eyes were catlike under his fiery red locks.

“I have to confirm the wine and ale orders for the engagement party anyway,” he said quietly, his voice cracked from disuse. Zachariah used words like each one cost a pound of gold. Some people even thought he was mute. I looked at him skeptically.

“Can’t you just have Thumper do that?” I asked.

Zachariah looked at Myra’s stiff posture and winced. He shrugged as if to say I have nothing better to do and kept pace behind her. I shot him a grateful look at his willingness to stay. He surprised me by kicking his horse to more speed and pulled up on my other side.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, seeing his tense expression. He swallowed, and checked our surroundings and I did the same. I saw only fields of late fall crops, flat lands leading to the mountains, and the main town we had left behind. A tumbleweed blew in the distance.

Satisfied, he clenched his jaw and met my gaze.

“Be careful. There was a strange woman who left the bar after you. She was the Puma with scars,” he said quietly so only I could hear. I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck at his meaning. I reached out and clapped his shoulder and he did the same to me.

Myra cleared her throat.

“Oh no please don’t let me disturb you. I just have an engagement party to prepare for. Far be it from me to interrupt,” she said sarcastically. She crossed her arms over her chest and held my gaze.

A moment passed. Then two. I sighed and looked to the sky.

“Come on Dusk,” I said, patting him, “Looks like its going to be a long night, sir,” and I redirected my reins toward the Beaufoutonte family estate.

…

“Well, eet eez better late zhan never I suppose,” Matron Beaufoutonte said, leveling a glare at me. I stood next to Myra in a burgundy gown as the maids worked tirelessly to adjust it.

Zachariah had tactfully left for the kitchens after seeing us to the mansion, knowing he was not invited to the dress fitting.

The lucky bastard.

Within minutes of us arriving, a pair of maids had appeared and practically torn our clothes off and thrown us into a pair of gowns. Myra stood next to me in a similar gown, though hers was overlaid with cream-colored lace adorning the bodice and up to her neck. Mine was plainer but cinched tight to my waist and torso. Cream- -colored buttons decorated the central front down to the waist. More simple lace was placed at my shoulders. At the same time my black hair was being pulled and tugged into an ornate knot atop my head to trial hairstyles.

The engagement party was less than a few days away after all.

“So sorry, but this isn’t high on my list of priorities,” I said as yet another piece of my hair was yanked, and I felt a pin prick my skull as it was pushed into place. The Madame turned away from me and set her shoulders.

“Eet eez like you are actively trying to ruin my daughter’s wedding,” she said icily. I yawned, tired of hearing this same exact statement.

“The fact I’m here Madame Beaufoutonte is proof that I’m not trying to ruin the wedding. You asked me to be here and here I am. What more do you want?” I asked. She rounded on me and looked at the lace placement on my shoulders.

“Add more ‘ere. You can still see zhe muscle underneazh,” she said, addressing the maid working on my dress. I remembered Addie fondly from when I had visited the Beaufoutonte estate growing up, her soft voice and gray hair reminding me of my grandmother. Though she was older, I noticed her hands had lost none of her skill as she worked.

“There’s nothing wrong with muscle,” I replied, “You’re not alone though. The people I collect my bounties on don’t like my muscles much when I kick their asses.”

“Do not swear! Eet eez unlady-like. You must be more mannered,” she barked, and I chuckled.

“I’m not lady-like-”

“Zhat much eez apparent,” she quipped, “But do try to make a show of acting proper,” she finished evenly. I tightened my now gloved hands into fists, the fabric straining. Only the thought of draining an entire bottle of bourbon made this tolerable. I knew fighting would only delay that moment, so I stood to my full height and flashed a bright smile.

“Oh, worry not my dear Madame! I can make quite the show of propriety. After all,” I replied in a voice disturbingly like Myra’s, “I pretended to be nice to you all the time without getting sick when I was little.”

Myra slid a scowl at me behind her mother’s back as the Matron’s eyes turned calculating. A breath passed without her replying to me, the room silent except for the pull of fabric as it was stitched. Even Addie seemed to be holding her breath. In that time Myra’s expression changed to a grin.

Now you’re in for it, she mouthed at me, and I sent her a carefree shrug in reply. Her mother surprised us both by smiling. The Matron approached me, and Addie took a step backward. I held my ground as she walked all the way behind me, and a moment later, I felt her unbutton the back of my dress.

“What are you-” I grunted in pain as I felt my corset get sharply pulled tighter, my ribs creaking. I went to turn, but the old woman tugged again, wringing the breath from my chest like water from a rag. She kept pulling and tugging every single time I tried to talk, the corset stays getting stiffer as she pulled the slack all the way in with surprising strength.

I batted her hands away and wheezed as the Matron motioned for Addie to continue. The maid briefly laid her hand on my shoulder in sympathy, before I felt the stitching resume. Getting some wind back, I settled for glaring at the old crone in silent mutiny. She gave me a self-satisfied smile, like a fox looking at a hen.

“Zhat eez better. I encourage you to rein een your wit. I will not ‘ave my guests being insulted. So long as you do not act like your foul little self,” she said as she laced her fingers together and hung her hands near her lap, “Zhen zhe party should be fine.”

I opened my mouth, but paused when Addie patted my shoulder gently.

“All done now, Miss,” she said quietly. I rolled my neck and shoulders, testing the limits of the fabric. The dress was thick, and with the corset on I felt like my torso had been replaced by a tree trunk. Every movement required more effort. I could already feel a sheen of sweat gathering on my skin.

“Thank you, Addie,” I said breathlessly, “Where are my other clothes?”

“Een zhe far guest room, Miss,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her respectfully. I managed a smile and swept into a curtsy directed toward her, making her flush.

“You do not curtsy to zhe--” Matron Beaufoutonte began to correct before I interrupted, meeting Addie’s eyes.

“Well, I do. She’s the most useful person in this house,” I said calmly as I made my way toward the door.

“We are not done ‘ere! Lord Beaufoutonte must approve zhe choices!” the Matron said sharply, in the tone of someone used to being obeyed without question. The tone of some one used to money and prestige. The tone of a wife of a Deified.

“Aren’t we though?” I shot over my shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll be here for the Lord’s approval,” and without any further words I turned and left, shutting the door behind me.

My leather slippers, the only part of my current outfit I had control over, padded along the lofted hallway which overlooked the grand ballroom area of the house. The colors of the sun beginning to set made its way in through the large windows and reflected off the polished wood floors. Several servants bustled about, cleaning everything in sight and lighting lamps in preparation for the coming night. I caught my reflection in one of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite to the lofted hallway over the ballroom.

I had to admit, as uncomfortable as it was to wear, the dress did look nice. It was feminine and suited my body in all the right areas. It gave the impression of curves where normally there were plains of muscle. My work as a bounty hunter had made me more athletic than the traditional feminine physique. I wouldn’t change it though. Just as I knew there was nothing wrong with having muscles, I knew there was also nothing wrong with looking good in a dress. And this dress did right by me.

It just needed a few more alterations.

I opened the last guest room door. My duster coat, slacks, and shirt were folded neatly on the trunk at the end of the bed. My pistols were laid carefully atop the pile. My boots had been polished and stood below where the pile laid. I smiled at the care taken with my belongings. Say what you want about the Beaufoutonte family, but their hospitality was second to none.

I retrieved a knife from the pocket of my duster and checked over my shoulder.

Nobody had noticed me and I quietly closed the door.

With effort, I unbuttoned the back of my gown, arching to get the buttons free of their loops. I felt around for the bottom knot of my borrowed corset and put the knife next to it.

“Let’s see you tighten it now,” I muttered and cut the string. I cut as many as I could reach until I felt my rib cage relax.

Finally, I was able to wriggle the corset out from beneath the dress. It took me a while to button it again and the buttons strained a bit more at my unrestrained chest, but the dress still fit just fine.

Settling the ruined corset on the bed, I looked at the heavy skirts around my legs. Each layer was folded and stitched artfully on top of one another. It was almost a shame to ruin it.

Almost.

In one of the shadowed areas of the skirt folds high on my hip I made a slit, then a second one on the opposite side. I placed each of my pistols in a thigh holster. I stood and took a few trial steps, but the slits remained hidden from view. The heavy fabric even kept the bulk of the pistols hidden.

“Good,” I muttered. I did one more twirl for good measure, and on a whim, picked up the corset from the bed. Satisfied, I made my way out of the room and down the hallway. I glanced back at Myra’s bedroom where I had left the two of them. The door was still shut. I walked closer, my steps light and muffled on the floor.

Voices could be heard from the inside of the door. I looked at the plethora of wealth around me as servants continued their work. Still nobody paid me any mind.

I will not eavesdrop, I thought to myself even as I continued toward the door.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I cannot and will not eavesdrop, but my feet didn’t even break stride.

I am above this, I thought even as I gave myself a skeptical look in my reflection in the windows and shook my head.

No, I’m not.

I leaned against the seam where the door met the wall, and closed my eyes, focusing on the voices.

“-but why do I have to have her in my wedding? She hates high society. You saw her just now! She’ll embarrass us, Mama” came Myra’s voice.

“Because your fazher wanted to keep you safe, my love,”

“But why-”

“Listen little one,” a few shuffling noises could be heard, “Nobody will suspect some protection from one of your own bridal party. And if zhey recognize her for her reputation, even better yet. And she eez your future groom’s sister.”

I took a moment to roll my eyes before listening again, but there was nothing but silence for a moment. Then I heard some muffled speech but couldn’t make it out. There were more footprints, and when Myra spoke next, I heard her more clearly. I could picture the pout she was putting on.

“Mama it’s not too late. I can still get someone else to stand beside me. Papa is too overprotective-”

“Ee eez not being overprotective!” a brief pause, “Not everyone of ‘ees partners eez happy with zhis arrangement.”

“I love Levi!” came Myra’s voice again, though more intense now. My eyebrows lifted in surprise before I heard her continue, “And that’s why we are getting married! I want the wedding I’ve dreamed of with the man I love!”

My eyes widened at the conviction in her voice. I listened for a while but heard only some light footsteps in the room. I didn’t hear them approaching the door, so I continued to lean against the wall. Finally, the silence was broken.

“I am ‘appy zhat your emotions suite zhe situation, but I did not raise you to be zhis naïve. Zhis wedding eez to solidify zhe bond between zhe McAlister’s growing success with zhere weapons and your fazher’s metal mines. Zhat eez zhe reason and nozhing else.”

Another pause. When the Matron spoke again, her voice was warmer.

“But I am ‘appy zhat you ‘ave made your peace with zhis…” Footsteps came toward the door fast, “Now your fazher will be arriving soon. Let us be downstairs to make sure everyzhing eez prepared.”

I was away from the door and halfway down the stairs before I heard it open. As I reached the bottom, I turned on my heel and waited for them, keeping my face impassive.

The Matron looked at me with penetrating eyes as she descended. She and Myra cut an impressive figure on the decorated stairs. The wood railing was a thick oak, and every inch was carved with ornate patterns. It was supported by a framework of dark steel twisted into the picture of burnished roses. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light down into the ballroom, while smaller lanterns were placed on the stairs to illuminate each step.

Myra looked…stunning. There was simply no better word for it. Normally she dressed in pretty yet simple dresses which were debatably too tight around the bodice. Today she looked like a full lady of high society. The maids had put something around her eyes to make them darker and more dramatic. It wasn’t too much though. Her eyes still shone a clear crystal blue. The dress was beautiful and cut perfectly for her. Her hair was an ornate pile atop her head and the light caught the fiery tones in it.

Her mother was no less impressive, with a beautiful dark blue dress which covered everything. It was not quite matronly but fitting for a woman who was past her “sexy” years and had settled nicely into her role as mistress of her noble house. Her hair was a golden blonde which hid her graying color well.

“I trust everyzhing was to you satisfaction?” the Matron asked, her eyes never leaving my face.

“Yes except for one thing,” I said, holding up the corset and putting on a posh accept, “It’s torn,” I set my face in unconvincing sadness, looking at the corset like it was a dead kitten, “How tragic!”

A red hue came to Matron Baeufoutonte’s face and she glanced at Addie.

“I’ll cut the next one too, my dear Madame Matron,” I said, still in my posh accent. She scowled at me, as Myra stared at the corset in open-mouthed horror. Her mother came toward me again, and I was sure she was going to slap me this time, but a sly grin slowly pulled at her lips.

“No matter, luckily your bust eez small. You can get away wizhout one,” she said, looking at my chest in open assessment.

“How kind of you to notice,” I replied sarcastically, handing the cut corset to Addie, who had come up behind me. She nodded, and took the corset upstairs without another word.

“Eet eez ‘ard not to,” the Matron replied, her eyes finally finding my face, “Did my servants treat your zhings wizh care?” she asked, her grin turning triumphant.

I nodded through gritted teeth.

“Yes. Everything was perfect. You servants are second to none,” I replied quietly, watching her carefully. The Matron had always reminded me of an old fox. Always something going on beneath the surface.

“Yes and I am sure zhat you ‘ave ‘ad many servants to compare?” she replied conversationally, though I did not miss the implication. She never missed an opportunity to remind me of my family's origins.

“We did have a few servants in my father’s household, and I have never known their equal. In fact we even got to know them as people,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at her, “Imagine that.”

“No doubt because zhere were so few,” she said, “And yes, Addie eez a favorite of mine. She eez quite considerate. Our servants are many and all ‘ave zhere talents.”

She held up a finger as if counting.

“For example, if you wish a wonderfully clean floor which leaves zhe scent of lavender, I can count on Millie,” she held up another finger, “Zhen zhere eez Edmund, who arranges zhe garden so beautifully and trims zhe trees. Oh also zhere eez Maybelle who cooks a delicious breakfast as well brews a superb cup of tea,” she said, continuing to count them off on her fingers as she spoke, “Need I go on?” she asked lightly.

“You’ve made your point,” I muttered dryly. She smiled enigmatically then.

“You assume much but know little, my girl. Remember zhat,”

"I assume as much about you, as you do about me, Matron," I replied in dangerous softness. The Matron didn't react. She just plucked an invisible piece of dust off the shoulder of her dress, then looked around the room.

“Speaking of which, Addie?” she called. Addie came from the kitchen door within moments. She swept into a curtsy and then stood in front of her mistress.

“Yes Matron?” she asked, her eyes on the floor.

“Zhe tavern owner eez ‘ere? For zhe drink orders?” she asked.

“Ee eez already speaking to Edmund, Matron.”

“Very well. Ee may leave after zhat. See zhat zhe Master comes to zhe main room when ‘ee arrives, Addie,” the Matron commanded, and Addie swept into another curtsy without hesitation, her skirts whispering around the corner as she left. The Matron didn’t watch her go, but instead looked up the stairs again. I followed her eyes, marveling at the beautiful space, with the grand staircase leading to a lofted hallway which held several doors to the guest rooms and other spaces of the house. All of it overlooked the ballroom area where we now stood.

“I zhink zhere will be some time to greet your guests at zhe engagment party and zhen zhere will be a procession of zhe bridal party down zhe stairs including your father and I. Eet will end wizh your betrothed and yourself, my dear,” she said, glancing at Myra who nodded. She sent me a suspicious glance.

“Are you ready Miss Rowena?” she asked.

“Let the show begin then,” I replied, sweeping into another perfect curtsy. Myra and her mother went on to formally decide the order of the procession. I was to be on the arm of the best man, Dash Eastmark. He would arrive in just a few minutes with Levi. I had only a vague recollection of him, having not seen him in years. The only details I could remember about him were big muscles and a bigger personality.

Well then, he sure does strike an imposing figure. But he does seem nice. He could be useful for all the fights Levi starts, right Rowena?

The feminine voice was smooth, gentle, and achingly familiar across my mind. My heart stopped at the unrequested memory. It came like a flash of lightning and left me in darkness as soon as her voice stopped. It was like being a starving man who suddenly smelled fresh bread but wasn’t allowed to taste it. I replayed the voice over and over in my mind, drowning nearly everything else out.

Myra waved a hand in front of my face and looked at me questioningly as her mother continued to talk. I ignored her, not interested in participating. The words in the room were suddenly like a buzzing in my ears.

All sound and no meaning.

As I continued to ignore Myra, she shifted her focus back to her mother’s orders. I nodded mechanically from time to time as the noise continued. Luckily neither Myra nor her mother asked me any more questions.

I was no longer paying attention.

Lord Beaufoutonte arrived home, accompanied by Levi, Dash and my father. Myra, and myself had been told to wait for them upstairs for the grand reveal, but now the men could be heard talking in the ballroom. Dash's voice rose above the all, correcting Levi’s posture and neck tie. I had hurried to the guest room at my first opportunity, wanting to get myself under control.

The voice wasn’t coming back no matter how hard I willed it to.

Addie offered to bring me tea, but I asked for coffee instead. She brought it within a few minutes, and with some convincing, spiked it with whiskey. I swallowed the whole mixture fast enough to scald my tongue. A few minutes later though, I felt more myself, and more awake.

I joined Myra in her room, leaning against the wall as she looked at her reflection.

“I think you missed a spot,” I muttered, stretching my arms as much as my dress would allow. Myra checked the mirror before rolling her eyes.

“I missed a spot about as much as your corset ‘tore’,” she muttered, tucking a loose hair behind her ear.

“Jealous?” I teased.

“Why no,” she said, picking an invisible speck off her cheek, “Women who flounce around without a corset are nothing more than harlots,” she batted her lashes at me in the mirror. I yawned, rolling my neck and popping the joints.

“This harlot prefers to be comfortable.”

Myra rolled her eyes again, her silence surly as I turned from her to survey her bedroom. I hadn’t been in Myra’s room in several years, and it had changed from how I remembered it. Yes, there were multiple wardrobes full of beautiful gowns, as well as comfortable rugs and furnishings. There was a large four-poster bed positioned near the window, the silken shades blowing softly in the breeze. A small hearth stood in the corner, flames glowing within. The vanity contained several perfumes and jewels of nearly every shade and scent. However, there was something new, a bookcase that was mostly full. I didn’t remember her liking to read novels while we were growing up. Myra was many things, but bookish was not one of them.

Curious, I looked at the volumes on the shelves, and couldn’t help lifting a brow in surprise. There were some novels, but also textbooks. Philosophy, an abbreviated guide to Elemancy, a history of the Burland wars, economics, and a volume on basic metal working. There were several journals too, arranged neatly together in their own section. I looked up and saw a separate journal of pale yellow pages open on Myra’s bed, as if she had been writing before I entered. I caught the edge of a curved symbol traced onto the page.

“That color looks nice with your dark hair,” Myra said suddenly, making me jump. She was looking at me warily through the mirror, still primping. I bumped into the bookcase and the Elemancy book hit the floor. I grabbed it, holding it up for her to see.

“Are these books yours?” I asked, ignoring the compliment. Myra gave me a sardonic look, meeting my eyes through the mirror.

“Yes, books make such a great accessory to my gowns,” came the dry reply.

“Where did you get them?” I pressed, opening the book. It contained pictures of the various symbols which comprised the Elemancer’s distinctive tattoos. Beautiful flame markings rendered in curved lines on an arm were pictured. Myra marched across the room before I could see more, and pulled the book away, snapping it shut. I let her, raising my hands defensively.

“Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you,” she ordered. I crossed my hands over my chest, waiting.

“Fine,” Myra groaned as she returned to her primping, “Levi gave them to me.”

Were it possible for my brows to lift higher, they would have done so.

“Levi gave these to you?” I repeated.

“That is what I said, yes,” Myra said evasively, adjusting a pin and adding some blush to her cheeks.

“And you read them?” I asked. Myra lifted a shoulder noncommittally.

“Not every one, but I’m working my way through them. He suggested I educate myself, and lent me his books after finishing school.”

“He suggested it?”

“Are you just going to repeat whatever I say Miss Rowena?”

“But when-”

A knock came from the door, and a moment later Addie’s gentle voice could be heard through it.

“Ladies, zhey are ready for you. Zhe Matron requests you come downstairs.”

“Right away Addie, thank you,” Myra said as she stood and twirled in the mirror. She struck a pose and looked pleased with herself as she pick up the book and placed it back on the shelf exactly where it had been. I watched as she checked her reflection yet again and flashed a dazzling smile at me.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” she said, looking me up and down, “That color really does look nice on you,” she walked across the room as she spoke and grasped the handle of the door before some of the familiar scorn returned to her face, “You can almost pass for a Lady.”

And with that, she slipped out without another word.

The group was already cooing at Myra by the time I followed her downstairs. The words “radiant” “beautiful” and “lovely” repetitively filled the room. Everyone ignored me as I came down the grand staircase, and I was glad for it. The faster everyone came to a consensus, and the fewer problems, the faster I could leave.

Only Levi glanced at me as I descended the stairs, his mouth quirking.

My breath caught as I looked at him. He had grown the shadow of a beard since I last saw him and his thick black hair, unruly as ever, tumbled into his eyes. The gangly boy I had left behind all those years ago had matured into a prosperous-looking man. Somehow, he looked even more like our mother as an adult. His eyes were the exact same shade, and carried her quicksilver intelligence. The piercing blue bore into the violet shade of my own gaze.

“Now here’s a sight I haven’t seen in an age,” he said, causing the others to turn.

“Doing the exact opposite of what I want. How original Levi. Nice to see you too, little brother” I replied acidly. I hated the way they were all staring at me now. Levi chuckled and stood taller.

“No, I was referring to you in a dress. I forgot you were capable of wearing them,” Levi said, lacing his fingers through Myra’s hand. Myra still had that facetious look on her face, and she laughed quietly at his comment. Levi glanced at her before shooting me a mischievous grin, but it was interrupted as a bucket-sized hand came down on Levi’s head.

Dash Eastmark stood a full head taller than Levi, his shoulders as wide as he and Myra put together. Honey-blonde hair was cut short as per the latest style in his home country of Burland. His accent was light and friendly.

“Is this how you normally talk to women, mate?” he asked, “No wonder you haven’t been able to get married until now. How unfortunate for your bride to be.” He lifted his hand from my brother’s head, as Levi gave him a sidelong glare. Dash clasped his hands behind his back, meeting his friend’s eye.

Levi straightened his spine, not breaking his glance. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Lord Beaufoutonte.

“Miss McAlister, I appreciate you interrupting your adventures to respond to my summons. It is a pleasure to see you again. I do hope your journey back here was without trouble,” he said, stepping forward. He reached out and clasped my hand with a small bow. I felt a corner of my mouth lift.

“I’d be a simpleton to turn down perfectly good coin for something as easy as body guard duty,” I replied and a wrinkle formed between the Lord’s eyes. Levi glanced from me to the Lord and then to Dash. He lifted a brow at the big man.

“Something you wish to say?” Dash, Earl of Eastmark, asked him. Levi waved a hand at me.

“Where’s her lecture about manners?” Levi asked. Dash blinked at him.

“You wish me to lecture your sister?” he asked dryly.

“Believe me, a lecture would likely ‘ave zhe opposite effect,” the Matron said from beside her husband, “Do zhe dress choices agree with you my Lord?”

“Your selections have excellent taste, my love,” Lord Beaufoutonte said in a tone which suggested he could not have cared less. Then his gaze went to my father, “Indeed, our time until the day is running short, thank heaven.”

He turned to survey everyone. The Lord was a tall and lean man of brown hair, dressed in an expert suit, and as he stood to his full height, his Deity Mark peeked out from beneath his collar.

“I appreciate you all taking time out of your busy schedules in order to solidify our plans. Not only for the union for these two young people," he spared a fond glance at Myra and Levi, "but also for the benefit of all of our futures.” He addressed the whole room as he spoke, and he seemed to meet everyone's eyes in turn, “Now, I believe dinner is ready. Please kindly proceed to the dining room everyone.”

After a beat of silence, Levi offered his arm to Myra, and they led everyone else into the next room, where the smell of fresh bread, roasted meat, and soups wafted out of the doorway. My stomach growled loudly as the scent hit me.

When was the last time I ate?

As I thought of this, my hand went across my stomach, and I heard it growl even louder. When I looked back up, I noticed everyone had left except one familiar figure.

He had stayed silent the entire time, but I hadn’t expected anything different. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all, but there he stood. His violet eyes, my eyes, stared impassively at me from beneath black silken hair tied neatly at the base of his neck. His glasses glinted as he lifted his chin.

“Rowena,” he said simply. His deep voice echoed slightly in the now empty room. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with the tone, nor him saying my name. There was simply no affection there, no familiarity. He might have been greeting a prospective customer for all the warmth in his voice.

I shook my head to correct my own thoughts. No, he would have been far nicer to a customer. But not me. Never me.

“Hello sir,” I said, shifting my weight from foot to foot. My father, Lord Liam McAlister, remained motionless. He kept that impassive look on his face, his head canted down toward me. A beat of silence went by.

“You have returned home safely, despite keeping up such a dangerous living.”

Here we go again.

“You must be thrilled to have me back home, sir,” I said quietly, then cursed myself. It was a trait I inherited from the old man. The angrier we became, then quieter we spoke. I had once heard my mother refer to it as the calm before the storm.

Father blinked at me before responding.

“You think so?” he asked just as quietly.

“Yes sir, now you have two children to bully,” I said, managing a small smile, “How do you contain your excitement?”

“A father does struggle to keep control of his pride,” he replied, unmoving, “When the gods bestow him with such unique children.”

“You’re dangerously close to flattery,” I countered, leaning against the ornate railing.

“We all make mistakes,” Father said, shifting his weight to look to where the others disappeared into the next room, “We will be missed if we delay too much longer.”

“Then why delay at all? What makes now so special?” I asked acidly. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

“I wanted to make clear what your role is in this, Rowena,” he said, then opened an eye, as if to be sure I was listening.

“Get on with it,” I said, feigning a yawn, “It’s been a long trip and I’m hungry. We both know you’ll tell me whether I want to hear it or not anyway.”

“Your purpose," he said as if I had not spoken, "is no more or less to ensure MyraBelle Beaufoutonte gets down the aisle to say her vows unharmed. Your purpose is to be quiet and swallow your pride for whatever ridiculous charade is necessary for that to happen,” his eyes became hard as stone, “Anything short of that is unacceptable. Unless you wish to fail me yet again.”

“Isn’t that practically a tradition at this point? Me failing you?” I asked even more quietly.

“Yes,” came the quick reply, “But this time your brother’s future, that girl’s safety, and the pride of both of our families is at stake. This cannot be another misstep. I was against your involvement, but now we are both trapped in this situation. I'm no happier about this than you.”

I shook my head, feeling the pull of the pins. It felt so damn hot in this house, and sweat was rolling down my back. The dress, corset or no corset, felt stifling.

“Since we’re talking,” I said as I played with the carving on the railing, pictures of ancient heroes and kings, and couldn’t help narrowing my eyes at them, “Why are you choosing a marriage of all things to merge-”

“That is not open for discussion,” he pushed away from the wall and straightened his tie, “We’ve said what we need to say and now this conversation is over,” he said as he left the room. I breathed out as I closed my eyes, shaking my head.

Some things never change.