Chapter 6 The Tea Tournament #2
“I must apologize for my sister; she’s a bit shy,” Katrina jumped in, then jabbed Celise with her elbow. “You're terribly rude when you sit there and stare at people. It’s off-putting!”
“Sorry, um,” Celise murmured in a soft voice. “Thank you. I think everyone at the table looks very beautiful.”
The Bratzian twins smiled at her. Celise smiled back, a bit timid. A beat of painful silence followed.
Then the light-haired Bernadette Goodweather said to no one in particular, “I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors. Do you think it’s true? Old Blackwood intends to find a match for his son by tomorrow night?”
The unmarried ladies shifted about and flitted their fans, listening.
“I heard the Mad Dog duke is going to announce a bride at the ball,” Ambrosia Verabon offered.
“Is that true?” Katrina asked. “How do you know for certain?”
“My mother is close friends with Lady Estoria Blackwood,” Ambrosia explained. “The Blackwoods are eager to see their son wed. They’ve tasked him with selecting a bride from his dance partners. That’s why there are so many young ladies in attendance.”
“I heard the new engagement is supposed to be announced at midnight,” Bernadette agreed.
“Then it all comes down to the ball,” Katrina said, before shutting her mouth, as though she had admitted too much.
So that’s what Old Blackwood meant by a “clandestine” event, Celise thought to herself. No wonder he asked Katrina and Heather not to retire early. He must have said the same thing to all the families in attendance.
All of the young women seemed to realize the same thing at once.
They glanced around the table at each other uneasily, some apprehensive, some smiling, all sizing up the competition.
Celise glanced down at her folded hands.
She didn’t consider herself in the running for a duke, of course.
But she wasn’t at all above the gossip. She, too, wondered which lucky lady would be selected as the young duke’s betrothed.
Or . . . unlucky lady?
“Have you read The Lady’s Letter?” one of the girls dropped her voice low. “Do you really want to dance with the Mad Dog duke? He’s a bit frightening, isn’t he?”
“Maybe he’s just misunderstood,” another young lady said. “The Lady’s Letter exaggerates things sometimes. They named him the Hero of the Realm when he returned from the Abyss, because he killed the Daemon King.”
“He’s not the only hero,” the second Bratzian twin muttered into her teacup.
Yes, she had a point. As Celise recalled, five Luminous warriors had faced the Daemon King in the final battle, one from each of the Five Kingdoms.
“I know Raelia Riverton personally,” Ambrosia Verabon said, her nose tilted upward.
“I recall when she broke off her engagement to the duke. She would never lie about such a thing. Elias is horrifically scarred, with a brutal temper. He’s crackpots mad.
” She snapped shut her fan and tapped it on the table, as though to emphasize her point.
“Crackpots! I’ll dance with him for a round, but not for two. ”
The girl next to her laughed. "Oh, come off it, Ambrosia! You wouldn’t turn down a duke for a second dance. He might be ugly, but he’s still a Blackwood. I heard Lord Elias broke off the engagement with Lady Riverton. He spurned her, so she retaliated.”
Mutters broke out around the table behind twirling fans.
“Nonsense . . . .”
“Ridiculous!”
“Could it be true?”
“I wonder if his scars are really that grotesque?” Heather asked, and the other girls paused to listen. “Has anyone seen him? Does anyone know?”
Celise felt a stab of anxiety at the sudden tension. It seemed all of the young women were a bit apprehensive—and intrigued—by the Mad Dog duke. One by one, they all shook their heads.
“Lady Riverton told me he’s a recluse,” Ambrosia continued, a little smirk on her lips. “He’s exiled himself to the Blackwood’s hunting lodge at Summervale Cottage, far out in the countryside. He’s rarely seen around the city, and when he makes an appearance, he wears a mask.”
“A mask?” Katrina laughed. “That’s all a bit theatric.”
“Well, it’s the truth. No one has seen his face since he returned from the war, except for Lady Riverton. You can’t trust a man who wears a mask.”
“He was rumored to be quite handsome in his youth,” one of the girls said.
“After ten years at war? Who’s to say?” Ambrosia raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea.
The group fell silent. The women glanced at each other behind their fans.
“Well, I’d dance with him if he asked,” one of the twins said.
“So would I,” a blond girl sitting next to Ambrosia agreed.
It seemed the ladies were feeling competitive again, and a simmering tension fell over the table. Celise glanced down at her untouched teacup. She wondered—did Elias Blackwood really wear a mask? It made the figure of the Mad Dog even more mysterious.
“I don’t understand the urgency,” one of the ladies said, breaking the brief silence. “Why must the duke choose a bride tonight?”
Ambrosia arched a knowing eyebrow. She looked pleased to share the latest gossip.
“It’s all a bit scandalous. High King Valienthe is pressuring the Blackwood family to see the duke settled and out of the way.
” Her voice lowered even further. “To put it delicately, the Princess of Illysea spoke too highly of him.”
The ladies all leaned forward with interest.
Ambrosia continued, “The princess publicly defended Elias’s reputation to The Lady’s Letter. Now people are speculating—why? Does she harbor hidden feelings for the Hero of the Realm?”
Her friend, Bernadette Goodweather, interjected, “Nonsense, the princess has been engaged to the crown prince since childhood! Their wedding is in six months’ time!”
“Exactly my point." Ambrosia tapped her fan again. “Maybe she’s getting cold feet? In either case, after she publicly defended Elias’s reputation, Prince Alric Valienthe became jealous and complained to his father, so now the king wants Lord Elias to wed posthaste.”
“Can the king do that?” one of the girls asked. “Force the Mad Dog to wed?”
“A king’s suggestion carries a lot of weight,” Ambrosia shrugged.
“I find it hard to believe the royal family would be worried about the Mad Dog stealing away a princess,” Katrina sneered. “How absurd.”
“I suppose that’s royalty for you,” Ambrosia said with a knowing sigh, as though she were personal friends with the king himself.
Celise listened with interest. So, the future Queen of Forsynthia had defended Elias Blackwood’s reputation, which caused a schism of jealousy between the prince and the duke. It sounded like two stallions butting heads over a mare.
But what had caused the Princess of Illysea to get involved in the first place? Did she know the Mad Dog? Why would she cause such a scandal?
“Do you think Elias and the princess are secret lovers?” One of the ladies asked the question on Celise’s mind.
Ambrosia smiled gleefully. “My point exactly! It seems suspicious. I think they must have some sort of connection.”
As the ladies began chatting animatedly over this new gossip, Celise remained quiet and listened.
She sensed there was more to the story, but no one else at the table seemed to have further details to share.
The ladies all gave their various opinions, then the conversation turned away from the Mad Dog to the royal wedding and other affairs.
They discussed the different popular waltzes that might be performed at the gala.
Some steps were more trendy this year than last year, though Celise knew nothing about dancing.
“Are you feeling up for the ball, Katrina?” Ambrosia Verabon asked suddenly, her eyebrow raised. “Your feet are so slow, I’m surprised you know how to waltz.”
Katrina’s brow darkened—prettily. “I can waltz just as well as you, Ambrosia. I believe your clumsy footwork is to thank for my gold medal.”
“My feet are faster than yours—and my hand. The referee made a mistake. The winning point should have been mine!”
Katrina and Ambrosia glared at one another.
The ladies turned to watch the argument. One of them interrupted, “Let it rest, Ambrosia. Your fans complained enough about this after the championship. . . .”
“It was my gold medal!” Ambrosia sneered, then thrust her chin at Katrina in a rather unladylike way. “This one cheated. The referee favored her from the beginning. She batted her eyes at him several times.”
“That’s not true!” Katrina gasped. “I’m the fastest foil in the junior league.”
“Then prove it!”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Katrina mocked. “Shall we duel each other with our teaspoons?”
“What’s all this?” a voice sang upon the perfumed air.
Celise looked up, dismayed, as their argument drew a group of older women to the Silver Thistle table.
At the forefront was none other than Lady Estoria Blackwood.
Although well-along in years, the silver-haired duchess walked with a sprightly step.
Immediately behind her came Lady Marcella Dhastel and Lady Delaney Verabon.
“What is all this fuss about the gold medal?” Lady Verabon asked.
“Katrina, you know it's unladylike to brag,” Marcella snapped.
“I wasn't bragging, Mother. Ambrosia mocked me. She said I cheated!”
“What utter nonsense!” Marcella gasped.
Delaney Verabon tilted her chin and didn't look at either of the Dhastel women. “However the final match turned out, it's in the past,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘However it turned out?’" Marcella demanded. "It turned out very clearly. Katrina won!”
Lady Verabon went to stand behind her daughter and placed her hands on Ambrosia’s shoulders. “Well, there was a dispute among the judges.”
“Among the fans, perhaps. The judges were in agreement,” Marcella glared.
“If the winner of the Junior Cup is still in dispute, we can settle the matter here and now,” Estoria said with a regal tone.