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ADELAIDE LEANED OUT of the carriage window as they approached the Carrick’s massive castle. Fading daylight cast an orange glow over the long, wide drive lined with chestnut trees and filled with other carriages and riders. The deep, crenelated wall encompassing the castle, extensive gardens, and courtyards stood three stories tall. Towers emerged above the wall about every fifty paces. The bottom of a portcullis peeked out of the archway above the towering iron-covered front gates. A water fountain depicting a mermaid holding a giant shell over her head dominated the courtyard.
The castle itself was four stories tall and square, with large, round five-story-tall towers at each corner. Crenellations wrapped around the entirety of the castle. Pale limestone formed the edifice, including the gargoyles and grotesques depicting mythical creatures spaced along the top of the castle. Not for nothing were the Carricks known as the wealthiest baronial family in Monparth. Rumor had it their wealth approached that of the ducal families.
Carriages, horses, and servants filled the courtyard. The sound of creaking carriages, hoof-beats, neighs, bubbling water, and chatter echoed against the walls of the castle. Smoke from the myriad of torches arranged around the courtyard wafted in the air. A servant greeted their party, directing others to see to their mounts and baggage. Adelaide turned around, wide-eyed, taking in everything. And she thought Father’s castle was impressive. Minerva shook Adelaide’s shoulder, diverting her attention from the displays of power. They were being escorted inside.
Inside was just as grand. The foyer sported vaulted ceilings and brightly colored tapestries covered stone walls. Coats of armor and bronze statues stood guard in the halls. A marble statue of an embracing woman and man on the brink of sharing a kiss stood on a large limestone pedestal in the center of the foyer. Adelaide slowed to a stop, marveling at the intricate detail on their simple, draping clothes. They even had fingernails.
“It’s a beautiful piece,” a male voice said near her shoulder. Adelaide jumped and turned toward the speaker. Nolan simpered. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you, Lady Adelaide.”
“Sir Carrick.” She smiled and curtsied, but her pulse hammered behind her temple.
“I thought we had agreed on Nolan?” He looked up at the statue. “My father acquired this when he was fighting in the Trade War. I understand your father won a good deal of his fortune in that conflict.”
“Yes.” Adelaide fixed her gaze on the marble curls of the woman’s hair. “King Olfan was generous in rewarding his bravery.” She hated when people made it sound like her father was a mere robber warrior, even if war spoils had added to his wealth.
“He met your mother while in Carasom, is that correct?”
“Yes. She was traveling with her father.” Adelaide braced herself for the inevitable casual judgment of her mother’s non-noble lineage.
“She must have made quite an impression. You take after her—impossible to ignore.”
Wait...what? She glanced sideways at Nolan. His mouth curved up in a slight smile and his eyes glinted as his gaze wandered over her. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked back to the statue.
Nolan laughed. “Don’t be shy.” He gestured to the statue. “Beautiful things are meant to be admired.”
“Pardon me, Sir Carrick.” Adelaide was relieved to hear Lady Drummond’s voice. “But I’m afraid I must steal Lady Belanger. We were just on our way to our quarters.”
“Ah, forgive me.” Nolan bowed and swept up Adelaide’s hand, brushing a kiss against her fingers. He smiled as he released her hand. “I look forward to seeing you at supper.”
As they followed a maid down the hall, Lady Drummond smiled conspiratorially. “I believe Sir Nolan has it in mind to court you, dear girl. Lucky you!”
“Yes,” Adelaide murmured. “Lucky me.”
They had just enough time to get dressed and freshen their hair before heading down for the banquet. Adelaide wore a light blue dress with fitted sleeves under a sleeveless silk overdress of dark blue, comprised of two long pieces of fabric sewn together at her shoulders and laced together at her sides with a thick crimson satin cord. A braided crimson and gold belt tied in front, the long tails hanging down almost to the bottom of the dress. A single teardrop-shaped sapphire hung on the end of her thin gold necklace. The outfit had been a gift from Lady Drummond, made for Adelaide expressly for the Carrick’s party. She could only guess Lady Drummond worried she would choose something too Khastallander and embarrass the Drummonds.
As the guests entered the great hall, servants showed them to their seats. To Adelaide’s confusion, a page beckoned her in a different direction than her sister and Lady Drummond. “Pardon me, are we headed the right direction?”
The boy looked over his shoulder. “Yes, my lady. This way, my lady.” They walked toward the head of the hall.
“I think you may have me confused with someone else. Lady Adelaide Belanger. I’m here with my sister, Lady Minerva Drummond, and the Drummonds?” She looked around for them, spotting them moving to their seats at a long table on the side of the hall. “I think a mistake has been made—”
“No mistake, Lady Adelaide.” Nolan flashed a cavalier smile as he walked up beside her. “You are seated next to me.”
Adelaide blinked, trying to hide her surprise. Nolan had changed as well. He now wore a royal blue knee-length tunic lined with crimson and pale blue stockings. A sword hung at his hip from an intricately engraved leather belt with a gold buckle. A gold brooch of a gryphon, the symbol of the Carrick family, secured a blue half cape to his right shoulder. He offered her his arm.
“Wonderful,” she managed. Gingerly, she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. Only when she glanced down did the truth hit her. They were dressed to match. Too much so to be a coincidence. Heat rushed to her ears. I could slap Lady Drummond! When did she tell him what I was wearing? If Adelaide had known, she would have worn tomorrow’s traveling dress. Now she stood in a room full of nobles, her clothing screaming I am courting Nolan Carrick against her will.
“You are breathtaking.” Nolan’s voice was low, personal.
Somehow, she managed to respond. “Thank you, Sir Nolan.” Be polite. Return the compliment. “You look handsome yourself.” It wasn’t untrue. He did look fetching. But she couldn’t seem to relax around him. It’s just nerves. I’ve never had a proper suitor.
“Well, Sir Nolan is an improvement over Sir Carrick, so I’ll take it.” He winked.
Nolan led her to a seat at the table below the dais. Food already covered the table on the dais like all the others, but the four chairs behind it were empty. Nolan pulled out a chair at the lower table for her, and Adelaide sat down, aware of the many eyes around the room watching her. She wondered how much of the low hum of conversation was about her. She searched the crowd for Minerva. Even a quick smile from her sister would calm her nerves. Unfortunately, Min sat with her back toward Adelaide, and she was deep in conversation with Lady Drummond.
“I knew blue and crimson would suit you.” Nolan sat next to her. “I hope finding the fabric wasn’t too much trouble.”
“What? You requested this?”
He frowned. “Yes... And you...accepted?”
“No. I had no idea.”
They stared at each other. Nolan cleared his throat. “I sent a messenger to the Drummonds, asking you to wear these colors. The messenger said you’d accepted.”
“Lady Drummond must have accepted on my behalf,” Adelaide said flatly. She fiddled with her silver utensils as anger heated her skin. “And didn’t tell me.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine. “Do you...mind, though?”
She stared at the ceramic plate and silver goblet in front of her. “I was unprepared,” she said carefully. She didn’t want to make this evening too miserable. Please let supper start soon.
Adelaide surveyed the room. Nobles were still entering and being seated. So far, no sign of Lord Regulus Hargreaves. He’s quite tall, you’d think he would be easy to spot. The influx of guests slowed, but even as her disappointment grew, she felt relieved he wasn’t there. She didn’t want him to see her with Nolan like...this.
A servant showed a man to the empty seat on her other side. The woman next to him must have recognized him, because they struck up a conversation.
Nolan’s warm hand covered hers. “Will you attend the tournament next month?”
“Tournament?” She smoothed her skirts as an excuse to remove her hand from under his.
Disappointment flickered over Nolan’s face, but his usual self-assured smile returned. “Yes, the Etchy Tournament? My father hosts it every year.”
She forced herself to look at him, to be polite. “Will you be competing?”
“Oh, of course!” He reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She managed not to grimace. “I was rather hoping I could compete in your honor.”
Her cheeks flushed as panic crippled her mind. “I...um...” A trumpet flare mercifully interrupted, and silence fell over the room.
Baron and Baroness Carrick entered, followed by a man who was clearly Carrick’s eldest son and a woman who seemed to be his wife. They moved to their seats, and the baron welcomed the guests and sat down.
Cupbearers moved among the tables bearing large containers of wine. A group of minstrels entered and played in a corner. A juggler and two acrobats leapt into the open area in the middle of the hall. Adelaide had never been so thankful for the distraction of entertainment and the excuse of food to avoid conversation. The nobleman to her right, Sir Morris MacCombe, son of Baron MacCombe, was friendly. Their conversation, while comprised of standard supper party small talk, was amiable. MacCombe, in fact, seemed eager to engage her. Nolan and MacCombe never acknowledged each other, at times outright ignoring each other when the conversation could have included both. It made her even more uncomfortable, but at least MacCombe was kind and didn’t flirt with or touch her.
Part of her felt foolish and guilty. Nolan was handsome, with his silky chestnut hair, merry blue eyes, and square jaw. He came from a wealthy, powerful, and respected family. A small part of her relished the flattering attention, the knowledge that many young noblewomen would swoon for Nolan. However, he had done nothing so far to impress her, to set him apart from any other young nobleman with too much time and money. Besides, she had always fancied taller men, like Regulus Hargreaves. The ease of the thought surprised her, and she choked on a sip of wine.
“Are you all right?” Nolan asked.
“Oh, yes.” She dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin. Her tongue seemed to get ahead of her brain. “I notice Lord Hargreaves is not in attendance.”
“The mercenary?” Nolan rolled his eyes. “Of course not.”
Adelaide looked at him, her brow furrowed. “I understand he used to be a mercenary, but he is a nobleman now, isn’t he?”
“He’s a petty lord of little account. And the only reason he’s a noble at all is because his philandering father was so taken with his peasant mother he added their mongrel son to his will. Arrano even buried her under a statue of an angel. Disgraceful.” He plopped a grape in his mouth.
“You’re saying Lord Hargreaves wasn’t invited?” Her heart twisted. Oh, no. My letter... She felt horrible she’d assumed and hoped Regulus hadn’t taken it as an insult.
Nolan cocked an eyebrow. “Why should the Baron and Baroness Carrick invite the son of a washing wench into their home?”
She stared at him as she clenched her fork in a white-knuckled fist. “That’s unfair and uncalled for.”
He shifted and glanced about. “I’m sorry. Some people are best avoided, and Hargreaves is the worst of them. He may hold the title of lord, but it’s not who he is. He could have been knighted, but he took off and became a mercenary. Mercenaries are not men of honor. Hargreaves only left the life because he inherited Arrano’s land and title. He likely killed Lady Arrano and her daughter-in-law. Then he had the audacity to knight his mercenaries. Three of them aren’t even Monparthian.”
“Have something against non-Monparthians?” A hard edge crept into her voice.
Nolan reddened. “No, of course not.” He cleared his throat. “Hargreaves keeps mostly to himself and often disappears alone for unknown reasons. But I have a theory: once a mercenary, always a mercenary. I suspect he misses the life and runs off to satiate his blood-lust.” He rested his hand on her arm and looked into her eyes. “Hargreaves is not to be trusted. I advise you keep your distance, for your own safety.”
“I can take care of myself.” She looked away. “Can you prove all this?”
“Unfortunately, no. But a knight’s intuition is never wrong.”
Adelaide stifled a snicker. It hardly seemed chivalrous to be hasty in judgment. But perhaps she was doing the same with Nolan. No. He has proven himself to be prejudiced, condescending, and a flirt.
“But enough of such talk.” Nolan grabbed his goblet. “It’s a party, after all.”
Adelaide stared past the acrobats, wishing Minerva would turn around. This party couldn’t end soon enough.
