The woman pursed her lips.

“You sound older than you should.”

Em rolled her eyes.

“I help Flint with his work. Of course I sound older, I have to boss people around.”

That was a bit of a stretch. She did the accounting and peeked at his paperwork (for lack of books to give her insight into the world). And of course, she didn’t have any authority to boss anyone.

Not even Tracy, whose job was to take care of her, not spoil her.

But Eileen didn’t need to know the details.

And Em was confident that Flint would lie on Em’s behalf, rather than let the old woman pry into what wasn’t her business.

To distract Eileen, Em picked up a dress. It was plain pink and dark gray, but had few frills and was a similar style to the ugly green and yellow.

“Would this do? Would I bring dishonor to our households wearing this?”

There was a tense silence.

Em could see Eileen wanting to say no simply to solidify her superior position. But she had a more important task to accomplish.

Honor to the households.

“Fine. You may choose your clothes, but I get the final say. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Eileen waved to the maids. “Proceed.”

As Em picked dresses and discarded others, anxiety grew in her stomach.

There were a lot of dresses.

In her mind, she kept seeing the accounting books. The newest ones with the most updated numbers were so bleak, they’d barely scraped by when coming to the capital. Any more expensive, they might’ve had to be late on someone’s pay or, worse, let people go.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to know.

“Where did all these come from? Didn’t Flint say he doesn’t have much?”

The old woman harrumphed.

“The day you arrived I discreetly asked a few of my acquaintances for their daughters’ castoffs. Don’t worry, my friends know to be silent on the matter. But I won’t be able to hide that these are all a season or two out of fashion.”

Relief flooded Em.

“So, they didn’t cost anything?”

Eileen pressed her lips together. Thoroughly irked by the situation.

“Flint intended on one or two dresses. Wearing only one dress to every event will put his disgraceful circumstances on display. This will help disguise the fact. But know that no one will miss it, they will just be more tactful should it come up.”

“Oh.”

Eileen sighed.

“You must be more attentive to your etiquette. If your etiquette is perfect, then it will make you even more untouchable.”

She shot Em a sly look that Em missed as she picked dresses from the next set of options.

“And if you are untouchable, so will be your brother.”

Em stiffened.

“Will people be mean to Flint if I’m not good?”

Eileen tutted and tapped her fingers more rapidly on her elbow.

“Not to his face. Not unless they are comfortable with their superior or equal position to him. But they will disrespect him behind his back and make business dealings more difficult.”

Em’s face paled and for a moment she forgot about picking dresses.

“Oh.”

This time the word came out as weak as the feeling in her legs.

This was a big deal.

If they couldn’t strengthen their business dealings, then the March will suffer even more. And Flint, who was not a businessman to begin with, will have to work harder to compensate. And if they continued to suffer, then they might have to let knights go… and with the monsters and rebels always a threat…

“I’ll work harder,” she promised weakly.

Stomach hurting with sudden stress.

They didn’t always agree on the style or coloring, but by the time they were done with the prolonged and exhausting business, there was a decent pile leftover. Ready to be adjusted to Em’s figure.

“Store the rest,” said Lady Eileen to the maids. “In case we need them later.”

A month. It’s only for a month. How many times a day does she expect me to change?

There were enough dresses in the ‘approved’ pile Em was fairly certain she could change twice a day all month.

Em had her arms crossed as she surveyed the pile. Then looked at Eileen with concern.

“Don’t I need two ball gowns?”

“What?”

Eileen had been giving the rest of her instructions to the maids and stopped paying attention to Em. She shot Em a look.

“Two ball gowns. One for the opening ball and one for the wedding. Don’t I need two? If I can’t wear the same one twice?”

Even the single ball gown they had wasn’t to Em’s taste. Too many bows and the color was close to the puke green. She surmised it must’ve come from the same donor.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

With a frown, Eileen also looked the pile over. Then harrumphed in annoyance and rubbed her forehead.

“I suppose I’ll have to use your brother’s funds after all,” she said grimly. “It’ll be difficult this close to the wedding… If only there were more events a child needs a ball gown, then I’m sure they would’ve sent more options…”

Em pressed her lips together and didn’t answer the woman’s mutterings.

“I’ll see to it.” Abruptly, Eileen stepped over and pulled a dress from the pile. “Adjust this one and the ball gown first. We’ll need the gown by tomorrow night and the first of our social engagements is two days after.”

“Social engagements?”

“Yes, social engagements. You received seventy-two invitations thus far and I’ve chosen thirty of the best ones for us to attend.”

“Wait, thirty?! Some of those will have to be two a day!”

“Is there a problem?”

“Why do I have to go to so many parties?!”

“Because you’re a Grimshaw. Since your brother will be busy attending to the Crown Prince as a bachelor attendant, you must be the representative of your family. Otherwise I would’ve used your age as an excuse to keep your poor manners hidden away.”

Em opened and closed her mouth.

Oh, gods! Have mercy!

Feeling like she was going to be sick, she sat down in a newly opened space on the sofa and stared at the old woman.

“At least you can not sound like a child when you choose to. That will help.” The old woman pulled a pocket watch out of her sash and scowled at it. “I have a meeting in a half hour. When I’m done, we’ll begin more lessons.”

Em had no words. Dumbly, she watched the old woman sweep from the room. And still didn’t move as she dully watched the maids clean up.

When it was just her and Tracy, she dropped her head into her hands. Groaning.

Tracy, in her new uniform (to match her to the rest of Eileen’s staff), knelt in front of Em. Patting the child’s head soothingly.

“It’ll be alright, miss.”

“It’s only for a month.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Then I can go home and play ball again.”

Tracy bit back a smile. She was getting used to this wilder (and happier) Emmaline. And would never admit she was looking forward to her ‘playing’ again, too.

“Yes, miss.”

***

“Marquis Flint Grimshaw, Lady Emmaline Grimshaw, Baroness Eileen Raynish!”

Em held Flint’s hand tightly as they stepped into the ballroom together. Wincing as a crier announced their names in shouts behind them.

Why did the nobility do that?

Did they really want to stand out that much?

She wished Loki was there. Eileen had warned her that Flint wouldn’t be able to stay with her all night. And she really didn’t want Eileen’s attention on her the whole time.

At least if Loki was there, he might’ve pulled pranks that would make people forget when she messed up.

Because she was certain she’d mess up.

She didn’t realize what a death grip she had on Flint’s hand until he squeezed back. Sheepishly, stomach churning, she loosened her fingers.

Flint leaned over. “It’ll be alright, Em. Don’t be nervous.”

“There’s so many people,” she whispered back.

“They’re all too much concerned about what everyone thinks of them to pay you much mind.”

Em snorted.

“Maybe in normal circumstances. But passing judgement is what everyone is here to do.”

Flint’s laughter snorted out of him so suddenly he had no time to suppress it. He controlled the laugh and replied in an even softer whisper.

“Perhaps. But remember, they all came knowing that and are thus still more concerned about their own showing. As long as you don’t draw attention to yourself, your clothes may be remembered, but you will be forgotten among many others who didn’t rise superior.”

He smiled reassuringly.

She loved that he only smiled for her. And that it seemed to be getting easier for him.

However, she wasn’t convinced he was right. This was, after all, the man who planned to wear his best uniform to every event. (Much to Eileen’s horror. Though Em thought it was a good strategy since uniforms were supposed to be the same.)

Still, she appreciated the reassurance.

Even if she failed in every way, she knew she’d walk away with Flint still on her side.

That eased the tension in her stomach, and she squeezed his hand again.

The siblings stayed together for a good forty-five minutes, observing the growing crowd and the mingling happening around them. Eileen wandered off. Promising to return when it was time to make their introductions.

“They seem happy,” Em observed.

Flint grunted.

“Will you dance with me later?”

“Of course.”

Em smiled and unconsciously swung their clasped hands. Humming to herself and wishing the orchestra was playing now instead of after supper.

Finally, almost an hour after they arrived, trumpets blasted at the back of the ballroom and everyone instantly fell silent.

Two people gracefully flowed through the back doorways.

Most of the onlookers reverently held still to watch. But a few, like Lady Eileen, hastily returned to their parties in the stillness.

“Announcing His Highness, Crown Prince Thiago Cyrin, the Young Sun of the Cyrin Empire! And announcing Her Highness, Lady Madeline Dulce, the future Crown Princess and Lily Moon of the Cyrin Empire!”

Nobles politely clapped as the couple bowed or curtsied to them in greeting. Then they sat down on the small thrones placed before the empty Emperor’s throne on the dais.

Then, like a huge orchestrated dance in which everyone innately knew their place, people filed forward. Making room for the ones in front and finding their places behind.

Em squeezed Flint’s hand as she followed his lead into the line. Close to the front.

The Dukes, their wives and older children, as well as any ‘approved’ relatives, greeted the royal couple first.

It was usually just silent bows or curtsies before hurrying off to let the next people in line step forward.

This is going to take hours, Em realized with horror.

Suddenly she was very, very glad she was with Flint. And that Flint was no longer just a baron but a Marquis.

It meant they were right behind the Dukes. The last the marquises, but still nearer to the front of the line than not.

“Why do they do this?” she whispered to Flint.

Eileen gave her a glare. For daring to talk during this solemn time. She ignored the lady, since she heard whispers all over the hall. No one was going to pay attention to a bored little girl in line.

“This ball not only starts the wedding festivities but also the social season,” he muttered back. Also ignoring Eileen. “This is the customary opening of the season.”

“So it’s just tradition? There’s no value in it?”

Flint’s smile was grim. “It establishes the social standing of everyone present.”

Em stared at her brother as he straightened up. For someone who pretended not to pay attention to social niceties, he had a good grasp on the customs of the court. She glanced at the irritated Eileen.

Maybe he had to sit through Eileen’s etiquette lessons as well.

Finally, it was their turn.

Em swept into a curtsy as they were once again announced for the benefit of the royal couple. As they stood up from their respective greetings, the Crown Prince actually beamed and stood up.

She slipped her hand back into Flint’s. And could feel his tension through his grip when Thiago came down the steps and clapped a hand on Flint’s arm.

“Flint, my old friend. Welcome! How are you enjoying the party?”