My insides curdled, imagining a slaughterhouse of the great white birds. The image morphed, turning into the memory of Constance wheeling round at me, exposed sinews and bloodied sheers gleaming.
“I think fish is a fine idea, Mother,” Alex disagreed, lost in a sea of green goblets, black flatware, and twisting bamboo. “I’m sure Verity’s family would welcome such thoughtful hospitality. It’s kind of you for thinking of them.”
I plunged my rose-gold fork into the flaky cut. My hands trembled. “Are these fennel flowers?”
Dauphine nodded, pleased I’d recognized them. “They represent endurance. Each course will be a new wish for your marriage.”
“How lovely.” I took a bite of the fish, determined to save as many swans as I could, even though everything I ate tasted of ash.
Marguerite sniffed and we lapsed into silence. It felt as though everyone’s mind was elsewhere this evening. Alex crossed his fork and knife over the empty plate and they rang unusually loud. He looked over to me, a guilty smile on his lips.
“Have you received any of my sisters’ responses yet?” I asked when the quiet grew too long.
There had been so many invitations sent out—each made of pressed flowers thin as onionskin paper, dipped rose-gold edging and lined with a row of pearls as a nod to me—that seven footmen had ridden into town, their satchels bursting with the precious stationery.
“I haven’t seen the post today. Have you, darling?” Dauphine glanced at Gerard, tilting her head to be seen around a cloud of peonies.
Gerard looked up from his plate. He’d been quiet most of the evening, setting me further on edge. His eyes were glazed over and distant, clearly working through something in his mind and patently ignoring the arrangement of uninspired roses surrounding him. “Yes, yes, I believe I have. Three letters, I think.”
Three.
Beneath the table, I ticked off their names on my fingertips.
Annaleigh.
Mercy.
Honor.
It had to be.
I’d known not to expect anything from Lenore, but where was Camille’s reply? Would she really not come, just to prove she was still upset with me? The wedding was only a week away. No matter what happened in the days between now and then, at the very least, Annaleigh would soon be here. She’d never disappoint me.
Dauphine’s mouth dropped with surprise and anger, a dark cloud hiding the sun on an otherwise brilliant day. “Three! You were supposed to send along any responses, not keep them squirreled away. Bastian and I have lists—so many lists—and if wedon’t know how many guests are attending, then we can’t plan for the—”
“They’re in my study,” he said, cutting her litany blessedly short. He took a great bite of the salmon, drawing out the silence. “I’ll make sure to bring them to you.”
My heart thudded out of rhythm in my chest. The study!
“I could go get them,” I volunteered, pushing my chair from the table, my flatware clattering loudly. “It would be no trouble at all. I’d just need the key….”
Gerard blinked at me, his expression unreadable.
“We’re in the middle of dinner, child,” Marguerite gasped, peering up at me with horrified wonder. She glanced to Alex. “Is she always this excitable? Such fuss over a handful of letters.”
“Dauphine said how important they were…” I looked to her for help.
“Well, they are, of course,” she said, her eyes still sharp on Gerard. “But you needn’t miss a meal over them.”
“Don’t concern yourself, Verity,” Gerard said, waving me back down. “It isn’t worth fussing over.”
The servers arrived and changed courses.
“I’m anxious to hear what you think of this one,” Dauphine called out.
The silver dome was pulled away to reveal the small body of a quail, set on a bed of wild rice and roasted grapes. I offered Alex a sympathetic smile. Apparently none of our preferences were being taken into account.
“Verity and I were discussing the honeymoon the other day,” Alex mentioned, poking at the small bird. “I’d like to take her on a tour of the estates. Find a house that suits us both.”
