I Am Bree - Book 1

Chapter 13 - Nobility and Horrid Truth

The ballroom was even brighter and louder—if that was at all possible—when we re-entered, and the throngs of laughing and chatting people were even thicker. I couldn't see Madame or the girls which was an enormous relief, for I meant to avoid facing them again for as long as I could manage.

    Thankfully, most of the people were engrossed in eating and catching up with their old friends and acquaintances to notice Una and me. I did, however, catch a fw stares of unkind curiosity broaching on disgust. Una must have sensed my hesitation, for she drew me even closer and raised a challenging brow at anyone she caught staring as if daring them to say anything against me.

    "Don't let them bother you, Bree." She whispered. "They're nothing but cruel, insecure gossips who think they're above the rest of the world simply because the king has been kind enough to give their family a title."

    Her words were meant as kind encouragement, and while part of me felt warm and grateful to have her at my side, the other part of me was chagrined. My discomfort increased with every step at her side. I didn't belong here in my borrowed 'finery'. I was a trespasser, and the longer I remained, the more I tainted my father's good name.

    Despite my likely obvious reluctance, Una led me to a chair and sat beside me as though it were the most natural and obvious thing in the world for her to do. I understood then that if she said she was my friend, she truly meant it. She risked sullying her name by being near me, but the thought of her reputation didn't even seem to cross her mind, because apparently, she enjoyed my company. Her posture, her slender, interlaced fingers, even her expression invited anyone who had a problem with her actions to approach her, but the slight lift of her brows was a clear indication that she wasn't going to back down before anyone.

    "That woman there," she leant near me and whispered. "Is the Duchess of Hornsburra," Una pointed out a woman in a voluminous dress that nearly swallowed the seat upon which she sat. "She's never missed a New Years' ball since her debut to my knowledge."

    I looked at the woman with a searching gaze. No doubt, she would have known my father. Fine lines in her face added depth to her features, and informed those who paid attention that there had been suffering over her lifetime. There were laugh and smile lines at the corners of her eyes which told how she'd faced those hardships. I found myself wondering if there could be a kinder person in the room—though she seemed highly unlikely to admit to such feelings.

    "That gentleman seated just to our left is the Duke of Core. He has been one of the king's advisors for many years, and there are not many who can outwit him. My father says it will be a grave day for Falea when he's no longer able to travel with the ambassador's retinue." Una continued.

    I looked at the slender man with some interest, wondering if my father had made friends with him. There was a weathered look to the thin face, half masked by an enormous walrus mustache. He looked as though he were a hard man though not, if my guess was correct, an unduly unjust one.

    Una continued to name various figures seated around the tables and standing around the room. She seemed to know so much about everyone that I found myself wondering—not for the first time—what her own rank was. I enjoyed listening to her and wondering if my father had ever been acquainted with the people she pointed out. I couldn't almost imagine him sitting in the room, talking over kingdom matters with the Lord Ambassador or clinking glasses with Lady Harriet de la Borue, the widow of the elder Morris de la Borue who had died serving King Erik almost a decade past.

    But no. My father had died serving his king, and these 'noble' people were sitting her in the fine clothes offering condolences and comforting glances to Madame and the girls. Although I enjoyed hearing about all the people, it created a strange hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, because my father should have been there. He should have been smiling and healthy still, but he wasn't, and the room filled with people felt empty and cold. I wasn't altogether disappointed when Una grew silent as the king rose and lifted his glass to make the annual toast.