“Thank you for inviting me, and congratulations on your engagement. I’m so very happy for both of you.”
“As am I,” Jacks drawled.
Robin turned to him. “I don’t believe we’ve had the honor of meeting?”
“This is Lord Jacks,” LaLa inserted.
“Lord Jacks,” Robin repeated, still smiling but looking vaguely perplexed. “Which House are you from?”
“I’m from a very old House.” Jacks took a sip from his goblet. “Everyone in my family died a long time ago.”
LaLa’s smile fell away. For a second, she looked as if she could have strangled Jacks with her small hands, but instead, she slipped an arm through Evangeline’s. “Shall we start the procession to the dining table? I don’t know about all of you, but I’m famished.”
This put a smile back on Robin’s face, but Evangeline felt unsettled as she and LaLa started toward a long table laid out with a lavish feast. There were cooked swans, stuffed goats’ heads, and what looked like a baked rooster riding atop a cooked pig.
Evangeline lost sight of Jacks in the procession, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. I’m from a very old House. Everyone in my family died a long time ago.
He could easily have been talking about the Valors. All of them were dead, but then so was everyone from House Merrywood.
It was tempting to ask LaLa about the comment, but her friend had looked so unsettled, Evangeline didn’t have the heart to bring it up. And it was probably better if, tonight, Evangeline focused on finding the missing stones, not Jacks’s past. Although she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jacks’s mysterious past was the entire reason he wanted to open the Valory Arch.
* * *
During dinner, Evangeline found herself separated from Jacks.
He was at the other end of the table, seated next to the Darling sisters. He seemed to be in good humor again as he tossed an apple and winked at the tallest Darling girl who’d touched his cheek before. She giggled loudly.
Evangeline averted her gaze, determined to return to her search for the stones. But she couldn’t seem to focus on anything except the sound of the Darling girl’s giggling. It trilled down the table, so light and bright Evangeline swore it made the glassware chime. It also made something terrible twist inside of her. Something a lot like jealousy.
Or maybe it truly was jealousy, as much as Evangeline was loath to admit it.
She didn’t want to feel envious for Jacks’s attention. She didn’t want to wish that he would try to make her laugh, instead of constantly tormenting her. But the feeling was so powerful, so strong, so—
Evangeline suddenly remembered the last time she’d felt emotions this intense. It had been when the luck stone was present. Perhaps this meant another arch stone was near. She recalled then what Jacks had said when he’d warned her about the stones: People will kill to hold on to their youth. It could also bring about jealousy.
That was it! The youth stone must be close. Evangeline felt a wave of relief; she wasn’t actually jealous, she was just feeling the effects of the youth stone. This was probably what Jacks had been feeling, too, whenever he’d stepped in to prevent her from talking to other young men.
Evangeline’s eyes darted around the people sitting near her. On her right sat Almond Froggly, who focused on his mead and didn’t so much as twitch her way.
To her left, the seat was still empty. There was just a wooden placard for someone named Petra Youngblood.
“That would be me.” The young woman with the moonlight hair glided into the empty chair.
Evangeline stiffened.
She felt instantly guilty about it. She had no reason to dislike this Petra Youngblood. It was jealous and petty—undoubtedly another side effect of the youth stone. Doing her best to shove the feelings aside, Evangeline said, “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Evangeline.”
“I think everyone here knows that,” Petra said with a conspiratorial wink.
She was friendlier than Evangeline would have imagined. As they chatted, it became easier to shove aside any lingering feelings of jealousy. In fact, after a few minutes, Evangeline was suddenly struck with a peculiarly familiar feeling that she and Petra had met before, or at the very least crossed paths prior to tonight.
“Were you at my wedding?”
“Oh no.” Petra laughed softly. “I’m a Youngblood.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with that name.”
“Exactly,” Petra said wryly. “People like me, who aren’t from one of the Great Houses, don’t get invited to royal weddings in Valorfell. I’m lucky to have been asked here.”