“Good boy,” Gerard said approvingly.
Marguerite swiped her napkin under her nose with a sniff.
“What…what does that mean?” I glanced about the table.
The corner of Alexander’s lips rose with merriment. “You’ll have to look it up and see.”
The warmth in his tone sent a strange flutter through my chest. It felt almost as if…Was he flirting with me? It felt like he could be, but so openly? In front of his family? Perhaps there were more differences between the People of the Petals and the People of the Salt than I would have guessed.
“I…” I didn’t know the proper way to respond, acutely aware of the many sets of eyes upon me. “I certainly will. I’d love to learn more.” An idea struck me. “It would be a lovely addition to your portrait. Have you picked out what your ducal flower will be?”
In a flash, his eyes darted from me to his father and back to his lap. “Alyssum, I think.”
I brightened, remembering them on the grounds of Highmoor,ringed around the tall alders bordering the gardens. “The little white and pink flowers? I love those. They always smell so sweet in the summer months.”
The table fell still and I wondered if I’d guessed the wrong flower.
“What…what do they signify?”
Dauphine studied her soup, refusing to look up.
After a beat, Alexander cleared his throat. “ ‘A worth beyond beauty.’ ”
“A wholly ridiculous choice for a Laurent,” Gerard muttered, casting his spoon into the soup with a clatter.
“Well, that’s the thing about a duke’s legacy, isn’t it, Father?” Alexander said carefully. “He gets to choose his own.”
The tips of Gerard’s ears turned a dark red as he threw back a long swig of wine, souring the room with the uncomfortable weight of his sudden anger.
“What doesEuphorbiamean?” I whispered to Alex as I ran my finger over the cursed soup spoon. I wish I’d never even mentioned those little spangled flowers.
He patted the corner of his mouth with his napkin, hiding his response. “Tenacity.”
“Next course,” Gerard barked out for the footmen.
The soup was cleared away before any of us could finish it.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
Dinner was blessedly over—Pontus, how many courses could one family pack away?—and I’d scurried from it as quickly asI could, with promises to join Dauphine for breakfast before I began my work in the morning.
When I turned to see who spoke, Alexander was right at my heels. “That hall leads out to the back of the house.”
I studied the corridor before me. It seemed to open up into a tall, starlit room.
“That’s the foyer…isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” Alexander laughed.
“I was sure it was—”
“It’s all the plants,” he said, wheeling past me. “They give off a false sense of familiarity. You thought you left by the same door we entered in, didn’t you?”
I nodded, certain I had.
He shook his head. “You went out its mate. Both have ferns next to them. It’s an easy mistake. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Its mate?” I echoed.
