“It’s Bastian, of course he does.” Danielle stood, holding out a hand for Brigitte. “Let’s look.”
“Searching through the Sun Prince’s rooms might be a bit too forward,” Brigitte said, brow arched.
“Not if we tell him it was for Alie and Eldelore.” Danielle gave them an exaggerated wink, to which Alie rolled her eyes.
“True.” Brigitte took Danielle’s proffered hand. “White or red, ladies?”
“Anything, as long as it’s sparkling,” Alie responded.
Brigitte bowed deeply, then she and Dani sauntered away, giggling over something.
“I apologize,” Alie murmured once the other two women were out of earshot. “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell them there’s nothing between Gabriel and me.”
“Because of what his father did?” Lore couldn’t quite make her voice sound neutral. It still made her heart twist, the way everyone here seemed so determined to nail the father’s sins to the son’s back.
Alie shook her head, then snorted a rueful, un-lady-like laugh. “Well, that’s part of it,” she said. “But honestly, I think perhaps that could’ve been salvaged. The thing that made it impossible was when he joined the Presque Mort.”
Gabe had said something similar. “Your father has always disliked the Church, then?” Lore tried to sound nonchalant, speaking from behind the rim of her china cup. She thought of what Gabe had told her when she asked the same question—complicated tangles of religion and politics, the belief that it should all be consolidated into one ruling body.
“I think my father dislikes almost everything.” Alie picked up a pastry, tore off the corner, and put both pieces down without eating one.
“It sounds like his beliefs have strained your relationship,” Lore said. “You and your father’s, I mean.”
“What relationship?” Alie asked darkly. She picked the pastry on her plate into smaller, still uneaten pieces. “Honestly, we don’t do much at home but pass each other in the halls, and barely even that when we’re at court. My mother died long ago, and I’m the only child.”
“That sounds lonely.” Lore knew loneliness. It covered everything she did, a spiderweb that couldn’t be seen but was impossible to free yourself from. It clung.
“Yes,” Alie murmured. “Yes, it is.”
“No pastries left, then?”
The voice was deep, familiar. Lore spun around to face Bastian’s easy grin. He braced his hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her, his shadow darkening her teacup.
The tension locking her shoulders leaked out, just a bit. Returning the book to his father’s study must’ve gone smoothly. Part of her had been worried he’d get caught and send all of this crashing down around their ears.
Bastian dropped a quick, reassuring wink, like he could read the pattern of Lore’s thoughts on her face. “There’s more where this came from,” he said to Alie, keeping his eyes on Lore. “If my sweets haven’t had enough sweets.”
Alie groaned. “Please, not the puns.”
“Give me a moment, let me workshop something with buns.”
“I would truly rather perish.” Alie grinned, dark-green eyes sparkling. “Besides, you’ve treated us enough, I think.”
“Never.” He spun one of the empty chairs around and sat in it backward, propping his chin on his crossed arms and peering at Alie through the dark fringe of his hair with mock lovesickness. “Is there anything else I could get you to prove my undying affection, Alienor Bellegarde? Would you like the chocolates in swan shapes next time? Bare-chested attendants to feed you grapes?”
Alie lifted a wry eyebrow. “I imagine you’d be the bare-chested attendant?”
“Of course.” Sly eyes slid toward Lore, a nearly imperceptible flicker. “Though I could probably get Remaut to come, too.”
Her playful smile fell only a fraction, pink staining Alie’s cheeks. “Actually,” she said, “Bri and Dani just went to pilfer through your rooms in search of wine.”
“I truly can’t think of a corner where I haven’t hidden some, but if you want to be sure they’ll find it, go tell them to look behind the mirror next to the bed on the top floor.”
“Of course that’s where it is.” Alie stood, wagging her finger between Bastian and Lore. “Behave yourselves.”
“Oh, never,” Bastian replied. He watched until Alie was out of sight. Then he turned to Lore, all playfulness gone. “It happened again.”