JACE
"I don’t understand what you’re talking about."
"Jace, if you want to give Penelope the world, then divorce Sophia. Make the woman who occupies your heart your wife." He eyed over his crystal glass. His lips curled. "You don’t even like Sophia."
"Emotions are irrelevant. We’re a good match," I said. "At least on paper. She runs the household well. She has an obedient temperant. And she will no doubt be an excellent mother. I have no complaints."
"Does she?"
I choked on the smoke I’d just inhaled from my cigarette. "What?"
"Does she have complaints?"
"Why would she?"
"You, her husband, moved another woman into her ho. You did this when you were engaged, and Sophia still married you. Now, not even three months wed and you haven’t laid a hand on her. But Penelope..."
"I have not bedded her."
"But you want to." Fabian gestured to a nearby servant to bring the whiskey. The servant arrived quickly and poured the amber liquid into his glass. He nodded toward . "His, too."
The servant splashed more whiskey into my glass. "I’m fully aware of my duties to Sophia. It’s a pity I don’t have the sa feelings for her that she has for ."
I couldn’t even bring myself to consummate our marriage. On our wedding night, I claid to be called back to the Capital, though I had not. Even the Emperor was surprised to see at the Imperial Court the next day.
I would have to consummate with her or I would never have an heir. But why did my thoughts wander to Penelope? She could never be my wife. She had no background. Marrying a maid would make a laughingstock.
"Why haven’t you been ho with your new bride?" asked Fabian. "When’s the last ti you saw her?"
"I’m busy," I said, feeling defensive. "I don’t have ti to go to the estate."
"But Penelope finds ti to go to the Capital. Why not Sophia?"
"She’s busy, too. Running the estate is no small matter. Not to ntion she takes personal care of my grandfather. He constantly writes to about how filial his grandaughter-in-law is. And Sophia only writes to to complain about Penelope. It’s annoying."
Fabian stared at for a long ti. "You haven’t been back to the manor since you married her, have you?"
"I have. But she wasn’t there. She’d gone to visit her parents."
"My God, Jace. You an you let her go to her return-ho visit by herself?"
"She didn’t seem to mind."
"Let guess. You and Penelope spent those days together."
"My wife wasn’t ho. Penelope rely stepped in to care for ." I tapped the rim of my glass. "Penelope knows her place. She doesn’t overstep."
Fabian snorted. "You’re delusional. You do know that most people in our circle think Penelope is your spouse, right? You’ve been seen with her all over the Capital. She attends more social events than Sophia, and she doesn’t correct people when they make assumptions."
I blinked. "What?"
"You’re hopeless. Why don’t you just admit you’re in love with Penelope? Free Sophia so that she can find soone who gives a damn about her."
"You’ve crossed a line, Fabian."
"So what? Am I wrong?"
I threw back the rest of my drink and put the glass down. I smashed the butt of cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "I’m going ho tonight," I said. "I will see my wife, and compensate her for our ti apart."
"How magnimous of you," said Fabian. He waved off my protests. "Let’s go to the ballroom. I promised Mother I would make an appearance and accept at least one dance from a fair maiden."
"Very well," I said. I was willing to do just about anything to stop the conversation about Sophia and Penelope.
I turned to follow Fabian out of the billiards room, but found my way blocked. I looked up and froze.
"Cousin," I said.
He lifted one dark eyebrow and stared at coldly.
"Duke Stoneheart," I offered begrudgingly.
"Brigadier General."
His tone suggested I was less a general than so third-rate soldier. But I swallowed my anger. Getting on the bad side of the Duke was akin to suicide.
My cousin was a big man. Taller than I by a few inches. He wore a uniform of black and silver. The four silver stars on his lapel was a subtle reminder of his military status in the Northern Realm. I was rely a brigadier general. He was a four-star general. Only one man was higher in rank than Duke Stonehart: his own uncle, commander of all the Northern Realm armies.
"If you’ll excuse ," I said. "I’m headed to the ballroom."
"Ah. I saw Miss Shire near the champagne tower." He tilted his head, his dark gaze so icy I shivered. "You’ll no doubt want a dance with your ... savior."
"I’ll save my first dance for my wife," I said stiffly.
"Will you?" He laughed, and the sound curdled my stomach. Why was he so amused? Still smiling, as though I was the butt of a joke only he knew, he moved aside. "After you, brigadier general."
We entered the ballroom together, but thankfully, he disappeared into the crowd. I found Fabian straightaway. He’d gotten a glass of champagne and was scanning the area for beauties, no doubt.
The place was quite lively. Many danced on the main floor, while others surrounded tables filled with food and drink. Loud conversations competed with the orchestra’s waltzing music.
The double doors at the far end opened onto the front garden patio. It was here that new guests were announced.
I had skipped this part. Luckily, Fabian and I had been close since boyhood and I knew his ho almost as well as my own.
Fierce whispers swept down the rows of people until the words reached our ears.
A goddess just left one of the incoming carriages.
What on earth is she wearing? Is it a dress?
Not like one I’ve ever seen.
She’s got on a cape, how can you see anything?
No wig? How brave. Or foolish. Hahaha.
She’s quite pretty. Whose daughter is she?
Fabian and I looked at each other.
"I must see this mysterious goddess that’s enchanted our jaded partygoers," murmured Fabian.
He pushed us to the front where attendees were announced.
And then she appeared.
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