“Sounds like it.” This isn’t what I was expecting of the niece of the woman who tried to have me killed. Grandmom glances between us, urging me to say something. To not be outdone. “I’ve only heard the loveliest things about your aunt from my mentor.”
“Cousin Jordan.” Her smile doesn’t meet her eyes.
A bell chimes, signaling the start of tea service. Nore and Adola sit on either side of me. Drew, across.
“I’ll be just a minute. Please, don’t wait,” Grandmom says, heading back toward the estate.
“Thank you all so much for coming,” I start, gesturing for the servers to begin, trying to remember the proper order of things. Drew slides the sugar over to me.
“Thank you.” I scoop the acceptable amount of sweetener into my cup and offer it to Adola.
“No, thank you.” She sips from her cup as is. Nore is quiet, eased back in her chair. Her tea sits untouched. And every few moments her gaze falls to Grandmom’s seat.
“Is everything all right? I can move your place if you’d like.”
“I’m fine,” she says, cavalier, finally sipping from her cup. But I don’t miss the way it tremors just so before it touches her lips.
I sip from my own cup, and salty hot liquid rushes into my mouth. I spit, spewing the disgusting drink everywhere.
Drew and Adola burst out laughing.
“Salt.” I shove the sugar bowl away. “You all tricked me!”
“Oh, come on, be a sport. You’re the newbie.” Drew cocks an arm back on their chair. “We have to make sure you feel welcomed.”
Adola grins mischievously. “She’s mad.”
“She’ll be all right,” Drew says. “You have a sense of humor, don’t you, Marionne?”
“I’m fine. It’s fine.” But in truth, I burn with embarrassment all over as the servers reset the table linens and all the things. It takes every bit of talking myself down to not let the stress of this reset frazzle me.
“It was all Drew’s idea anyway,” Adola says, as she, Drew, and I stroll through the roses while the beautiful table Plume arranged is redone.
“Lies!” Drew protests, but a smirk hides behind their denial.
“A sense of humor is better than the best fashion sense, I heard once,” I say. “Don’t worry about it. It was all in good fun.”
Nore strolls on her own as we wait, and I swear I see her eyes roll. But when I look over at her, she’s admiring a bush of black roses.
“When did you arrive to Chateau Soleil?” Drew asks.
My heart thumps. Nore tugs at her gloves, pulling at the same threads of her shawl, over and over.
“Is she always to herself like that?” I ask, pretending I didn’t hear their question.
“No idea,” Adola says. “This is my first time meeting her. Will you be at the Tidwell?”
“I had a conflict. Unfortunately,” I add, hoping it’s convincing.
“I did too, sadly,” Adola says. “I hate to miss it. It’s the best one.” Her eyes narrow. “Have you ever been to a ball before?”
“No, actually.”
“Why not?” Drew asks. Adola watches for my answer as the final utensil is put in place and we’re ushered back to a freshly set table.
“These look delicious.” I sit back down and tear off a piece of sandwich and stuff it in my mouth so I don’t have to answer.
Grandmom finally returns to the courtyard, taking her place at the table.