Chapter 30
Dara stood in the middle of her room, the System panels finally dimmed, her thoughts reorganizing themselves into neater, sharper lines.
“Wait…”
Cai, who had been drifting in lazy spirals above the foot of the bed, immediately looked suspicious. “What now?”
Dara turned toward him. “If I’ve decided to… allow the courtship—”
“That is not what happened.”
She ignored him. “What happened to the rest of the gifts?”
Cai blinked once. “The flowers are already yours.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Dara said, with dignity. “I’m looking at them.”
“The others were taken by the staff.”
Dara stilled. “Taken where?”
Cai’s whiskers twitched. “Oh, now she cares.”
Dara folded her arms. “This is a question of procedure.”
“It’s a question of greed.”
“It is a question of assets.”
Cai’s expression shifted into one of deep enjoyment. “Ah. Better.”
Dara lifted one brow. “I haven’t accepted those yet.”
Cai paused just long enough to become extremely unhelpful. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You accepted the flowers.”
“That was accidental.”
“You received them in front of witnesses.”
“That was before I understood I was being ambushed.”
Cai considered this, then said, “The household is not going to draw such a fine distinction between one accepted gift and the rest of the courtship display.”
Dara narrowed her eyes. “That is not my problem.”
“It will become your problem if half the estate already thinks this is proceeding beautifully.”
Dara stared at him. Then chose, with admirable discipline, not to ask whether half the estate did in fact think that.
Instead she crossed to the bell pull and gave it a single, crisp tug.
A moment later there was a soft knock, and Grace entered. “My lady?”
Perfect.
Dara turned with composure so complete it might have fooled someone less familiar with her. “The items His Highness brought earlier. Where were they placed?”
Grace’s face remained admirably calm. Only her eyes brightened by the smallest degree. “They were set aside in your private sitting room, my lady.”
Of course they were.
That was just near enough to be dangerous.
“Bring them here.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Grace turned at once and disappeared without asking unnecessary questions, which was one of her better qualities.
Cai floated lower, watching Dara with open amusement. “You are not even pretending this is unrelated to personal enjoyment.”
Dara moved to one of the upholstered chairs near the window and sat gracefully, folding one leg over the other with measured elegance. “I need to evaluate them.”
“For quality.”
“For strategic value.”
“For quality,” Cai repeated.
Dara did not answer.
The flowers remained in her peripheral vision, infuriatingly tasteful.
A few moments later Grace returned, accompanied by another maid carrying a lacquered tray. They set the items down on the low table before Dara with careful reverence.
Tea. Sweets. And a polished box that required no explanation at all.
There.
That was much better.
Grace and the maid withdrew with proper decorum, though not before Grace’s gaze lingered just a little too knowingly on the arrangement of gifts.
Dara waited until the door shut behind them.
Then leaned forward.
Cai folded his arms. “This is undignified.”
Dara lifted the tea first. It had been packed in a fitted case lined with dark silk, each tin precisely labeled, the scent already faintly escaping even before she opened one. She paused over it a moment, then lifted the lid and inhaled.
Her expression gave very little away.
Still—
Cai saw it. “You’re pleased.”
“It smells expensive.”
“That is not a denial.”
Dara ignored him and moved on to the sweets.
Those, too, had been arranged with insulting levels of competence—delicate pastries dusted lightly with sugar, small fruit confections, honey cakes cut into elegant portions, and a few richer pieces that looked as though they would be intolerably good with tea.
Her brows rose. “…This is a very respectable selection.”
Cai drifted closer. “Would you like a moment alone with the dessert tray.”
“No.”
“You sound emotional.”
“I sound discerning.”
That left the box.
Dara looked at it for a moment without touching it.
Cai, naturally, noticed. “Oh, now we reach the dangerous one.”
Dara opened the box.
Inside, resting against dark velvet, lay a hairpiece so well chosen it was immediately irritating.
Green and black.
Not gaudy. Not overloaded with jewels or attention-seeking nonsense.
Elegant lines. Dark enamel or lacquerwork shaped into subtle leaves and curling forms, touched with green stones that caught the light like deep glass or polished emerald.
Refined. Beautiful. Exactly the sort of piece that would look striking against her hair without becoming vulgar.
Dara stared at it, then reached out and lifted it carefully from the box. It was well made, which was the first problem. The second was that it was very obviously suited to her taste. The third was that he had, somehow, noticed.
Cai made a delighted little sound. “Oh, you like that one.”
Dara held it up against the light and examined the craftsmanship. “It’s very well made.”
“That was not what I said.”
“It’s balanced properly.”
“You are trying not to say it.”
“The stone settings are clean.”
“You are absolutely trying not to say it.”
Dara looked at him with mild annoyance. “It is pretty.”
Cai lit up like festival fireworks. “Aha!”
She lowered the hairpiece and looked at it again.
Pretty was not, in fact, enough.
It was thoughtful.
That was worse.
Not grand for the sake of being grand. Not expensive in the mindless way some nobles assumed women appreciated. Just… chosen.
Chosen with care.
Dara did not entirely care for how that felt.
“It suits you,” Cai said, too smug by half.
Dara glanced toward the mirror, then—because she was an intelligent woman who understood the importance of verification—rose and crossed to the dressing table with the piece in hand.
“This is a matter of proper inspection,” she informed the room.
“Of course.”
She set the ornament into her hair experimentally, adjusting it once, then twice, studying the effect with cool seriousness.
The green caught beautifully against the dark shine of her hair. The black detailing sharpened it.
And with her green eyes, the effect was unmistakable.
Dara went still.
Cai drifted up beside the mirror, peering at the reflection. “Oh, that is excellent.”
“It suits me,” Dara said carefully.
“You mean devastating.”
“I mean it suits me.”
She turned her head slightly, testing the angle, then removed it with care and set it back into the box.
That was enough of that.
Cai, unfortunately, was far from done. “You accepted the courtship for the gifts.”
Dara turned from the mirror. “I accepted the courtship because it aligns with my long-term objectives.”
Cai said nothing.
Dara folded her hands. “…The gifts are a bonus.”
“There it is.”
She returned to the chair, took one of the tea tins in hand again, then looked over the full arrangement before her with calm practicality.
Tea. Sweets. Hairpiece.
Useful.
Luxury, yes. But useful luxury.
The kind of things one absolutely deserved for enduring an unexpected courtship declaration in one’s own receiving room.
Dara nodded once to herself. “This is acceptable.”
Cai laughed. “Only acceptable?”
“Yes.”
“The tea is expensive. The sweets are excellent. The hairpiece nearly made you emotional.”
“It did not.”
“You stared at yourself in the mirror.”
“That was research.”
“Mm.”
Dara set the tea back down and considered the low table before her.
Then, very slowly, a new thought occurred to her.
Not a dramatic one.
A practical one.
She looked at the gifts. At the flowers. At the room around her.
Then at Cai.
“So,” she said.
Cai immediately looked wary. “That tone means something terrible.”
“If accepting his courtship means I’m allowed to keep all of this…”
“That is not how most people would phrase it, but yes.”
Dara leaned back in the chair. “Then this arrangement may have more immediate benefits than I initially accounted for.”
Cai stared at her, then smiled slowly. “Ah.”
She tapped one finger lightly against the arm of the chair. “Status. Visibility. Protection. Gifts.”
“Very romantic.”
“Very useful.”
“And the prince himself.”
Dara’s expression remained unreadable. “He is… also useful.”
Cai’s whiskers twitched with malicious delight. “I’m sure that’s all he is.”
Dara ignored him with the discipline of a woman who had far more important things to think about than one dangerously competent prince and the increasingly complicated matter of enjoying his company.
The route remained the same. Route B, solo exile, one billion dollars, and everyone else safe.
The courtship merely changed the tools available to her.
Her gaze moved once more over the hairpiece, the tea, the sweets, and the flowers by the window. Then a slight, satisfied smile touched her mouth.
“Very well,” she said.
Cai tilted his head. “Very well what?”
Dara lifted her chin.
“If I’m going to be courted, I might as well be compensated properly.”
Cai burst out laughing.
Dara, perfectly composed, reached for one of the small fruit confections and ate it with the serene air of a woman who had just accepted a strategic development in her favor.
It was delicious.
Good.
At least something in this ridiculous situation had the decency to taste right.