Royal Fools

XX. Eris

Not only did Florence learn that the gorgeous Tatiana Temple was the latest of the king's string of lovers, but she also found out that the others were equally beautiful and smart. Three of them were members of the Artemis, the others, she only saw in passing during the first ball she was invited to.

But Tatiana was the one that she could not ignore. The woman was perfect in every sense. The only thing lacking was a crown on her head.

She finished her wine in one gulp as her eyes followed the woman dancing gracefully in the middle of the ballroom, her partner a handsome young lord who looked like he was the luckiest man in the room. Muffling a burp with her gloved hand, she turned away from the lady who heard and gave her a disgusted look.

"She's not your enemy, cousin," Lucy whispered beside her with amusement. "Not her or Lady Camelot over there, or Miss Tracey, or who is that woman with the red hair again? The lover from last year?"

"Don't start," she warned, giving the room a sweeping glance, trying her best to ignore Tatiana Temple. Even so, unable to contain herself, she gritted her teeth and growled under her breath, "The more I find out more about him—"

"The more you realize you can't marry him?" Lucy asked, biting a smile.

Her eyes jumped to Lady Camelot, the woman with the perfect blond hair—not chopped like hers was, of course. "No," she said through her teeth. "The more I want to strangle him while wearing my crown."

Lucy burst out laughing, causing more guests to look and murmur to themselves.

Florence snorted and sighed, not at all bothered. She had been through worse in Gavaria.

"Cousin, I think you're in love."

With a scoff, Florence rolled her eyes and replaced her glass at a passing server. "There's no such thing."

"Then why are you jealous?"

"I can be jealous of anyone. Don't be ridiculous. I'm just fond of him. Well, I was in Birchfield. I'm not so fond at the moment."

Lucy softly chuckled and shook her head. "I'm glad we're enjoying Coulway. But Steffan is almost here." Florence ignored her cousin's words. She didn't want to think about her brother. "Are you not worried at all?" Lucy prodded.

"Now that I have secured a promise from you-know-who, no."

"Still, I think it's best you marry before Steffan gets here."

"You know we can't rush a," she leaned closer and whispered, "royal wedding."

"Well, if you-know-who is willing, you can."

She did not have the chance to reply because their new friends from Artemis came over. "Join us in the garden," the twenty-year-old Lady Marjorie said, pulling Florence by the hand.

As soon as they reached the garden, Marjorie, Karenina and Augustine started talking about men. They shared their dance cards and gave advice on partners—how they smelled, how their feet stepped too fast or slow, or where their hands landed.

Florence and Lucy also shared much needed advice on how to be wiser by not showing too much interest.

Augustine stopped walking, her blond hair sprinkled with gems that sparkled as she looked around. "By the by," she said, which was a most definite word to make the rest turn and huddle closer to hear the gossip. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" Lucy asked.

"About the king's betrothed."

Florence blinked as the other girls leaned closer, eyes wide with interest. "Who?" Marjorie asked.