They wanted a response. And Talac wanted this silly bridal competition to end. Perhaps… perhaps he’d been going about this the wrong way. Being standoffish and arrogant in the past had never produced any results. Year after year the candidates, and their overeager parents kept turning up for the event. Maybe it was time to begin wresting the rules and outcomes away from his grandmother, parents and the aristos.
But if he were to do so, it would be important to remember what Alia had pointed out, these bridal candidates were as much helpless bystanders in all of this as Talac was. And worse, once it was all over, they often paid for their failure for years to come with spinsterhood or sub-par marriage matches their only options.
“Lady Tolbeth.” He kept his voice gentle, soothing, a hush of expectation falling over the crowd, all straining to hear. Many fingers crossed that he would eject Tolbeth from the competition thanks to her outburst and hysterics. “How is Sparkles?”
“Oh, Your Highness, she can’t seem to stop trembling, the poor lamb.” Cradling her pet tenderly to her bosom.
“I hate seeing you so upset.” Several Mamas sucking in air sharply, perhaps terrified he was going to make some kind of declaration of a romantic nature. “I’ve come to think of you as a sister over the past few days.” Many a Mama heaving out a relieved breath, though Tolbeth’s mother, Baroness Intnal, looked as if she’d just taken a bite from a lemon. “Unfortunately, due to my duties, I cannot be the stalwart shoulder you require during this trying time.” He searched the crowd, come on, no, no… ah, you. “Lord Linnate, come join us, please.”
A young man dressed head to boots in dark green hunting attire carefully picked his way through the seated crowd. His expression both wary and pleased to be singled out. Once he stood beside the Prince, Talac performed the introductions.
“Lord Linnate, this is Lady Tolbeth, and Sparkles, who’s in some distress. Lord Linnate and his family are famous for breeding hunting dogs, providing all the hounds for the Palace. I do not think I could find a more trustworthy fellow to take charge of Sparkles… and to support you, personally, during your beloved pet’s recovery period.”
They had dogs in common. Hopefully Tolbeth would overlook Linnate’s hunting obsession.
“I’m surprised the two of you haven’t met previously. The Linnate estates are only half a day’s ride from Intnal Wells. And I believe your families would have much in common.” Talac stared at Linnate, pleased when the man’s expression cleared of confusion and he realised he was getting the royal seal of approval to pursue Lady Tolbeth. Whom the Prince had just declared he thought very highly of, a sister no less.
Linnate sprang into action. Dramatically unbuttoning his coat to create a blanket for Sparkles to snuggle in, before offering his arm to Tolbeth. “I think it best we repair somewhere quiet, and perhaps prevail on the Palace kitchen to provide… Sparkles with some plain beef broth to help soothe her gut… I mean stomach.”
Tolbeth looked up at Linnate like he was a knight in shining armour. Resting her hand daintily upon his elbow, allowing him to escort her back to the Palace. “I cannot express how reassuring it is to have a man such as yourself take charge, Lord Linnate. Did your family accompany you here to Pallene? I would very much like to present my parents to them, perhaps later this evening...”
“… Dinner! Would you do me the privilege of allowing me to escort you? And then I could perform the familial introductions there.”
The rest of their conversation was smothered by the buzz of gossip that roared through those present. A second candidate had just been removed from the competition. The odds had never been more favourable for those remaining, only seven left in contention. And one of those was a woman almost as tall as the Prince, who insisted upon wearing boots, trousers and jackets. Not to mention the wicked ridged unsightly scar marring her throat. The Prince would never look in that direction.
Many a Mama wished there was champagne being served instead of tea, for surely their daughter was close to nabbing the Prince and the title of Queen. The question was, what could they do to set their child apart? Ensuring the Prince noticed their offspring and in no way thought of her in a brotherly fashion?
More than one had the idea of heading back to their suffocatingly cramped suite to make some urgent fashion alterations. Lower necklines would be called for. More fitted silhouettes. Tighter corsetry. Fewer petticoats. And why was the product of their loins reaching for another pastry at a time like this?
The Queen must have sensed the direction of thoughts, rising to her feet, signalling the high tea party was concluded. “Zariffe.” She looked pointedly at her son.
With little choice Talac strode over to offer his arm, leading his mother through the bowing crowd, growing sparser with every step they took, as Mamas grabbed daughters and any in their entourage who were skilled with a needle, making haste for the Palace. At the royal carriage his mother’s pointed look meant Talac had no choice but to join her.
“Drive on.”
“What about Grandmother?”
“She can find her own way back. Now, start talking young man. What in the world is going on?” Hazel eyes pinning Talac in place, gifting him the exact same look she used to give him when he was five and trying to lie his way out of trouble.
“It’s complicated.”
“Does it have anything to do with why you arranged to have that man who looks like you impersonate you at the ball last night?”
“You know about that?”
“Please, a mother knows her child. And you might wish to break him of the habit of tapping his foot in time with the music.”
Huh, maybe he’d inherited his spy skills from his mother. Question was, how much to share? “I’m afraid it’s just the usual, machinations and murder plots abound.” Hoping against hope his mother would leave things there. For several heartbeats he thought he’d gotten away with it.
“You always were a closed mouthed child. Remind me to have the head steward seat Alia Gloomenthrall next to me at tonight’s dinner.”
“Please don’t… you would only make her more of a target. And perhaps interfere with her plans to murder her brother-in-law.”
“Hah, I knew there was more going on, I told your father as much.”
“I’m finding your calm response to all this news rather intriguing.”
“Yes… about that. You know the story of how your father and I met at the Mid-Winter ball at Ratonleight? We might have left out a few small details… like the fact that I was standing over a dead body at the time, with a knife in my hand.”
