The Duke’s Reborn Daughter Sometimes Chooses Violence.

I was not expected here. In fact, I might have been the last person in all the Kingdom they might have expected to attend, save perhaps for the First Princess.

The Greenward Social was a smaller affair than the Grand Ball I had gone to a month ago. It was a late evening event, hosted not at the Great Hall but at a private venue in the Greenward District. Attendance to this event was limited to younger nobles and their immediate retainers. It was a chance for the heirs of Aelheim’s houses to mingle, unencumbered by their parents.

At least, that was supposed to be the idea. In practice, the children were all extensions of their parents, and everything would lead back to them one way or another. Anias had coached me rather thoroughly.

Damian walked at my left. He wore Veyne colours, which amounted to a plain dark blue coat. He had said very little since we’d left the Manor. That was fine. Violet had demanded to come. I had tried to get her to promise she would not destroy anything, no matter how angry she got. She could not promise me while looking me in the eye, and so, she stayed at the Manor. We had left Anias outside.

The venue itself was both far smaller and far less excessive than the Grand Hall had been. There was a crowd outside here too, one that perhaps wouldn’t have existed at all, if not for the people currently inside the hall today. In other great cities, even an event like this would be lavish.

The crier announced us when we arrived. “Presenting Lady Esra Veyne, accompanied by Damian Everstand.”

There were fewer eyes than at my debut but the ones that found me were…much more wary. Word of the dragon had spread, at least in most of the newspapers. Besides that, the children here were simply worse at hiding their interest than their parents might have been.

Dorothy had done me the additional courtesy of informing me that her article would be published in four days. The article that had the Scrylens pictures. That had Vaelin, burning crimson at the top of a mountain. I wondered what these glances would look like then.

I did not care for the crowd of noble children gawking in our direction. Neither did I care for the orchestra playing…something. My eyes moved through the room. I found Cordelia in under five seconds. It was hard not to find her, surrounded by people as she was. She stood near the center of the room because of course she did. She was the evening’s centerpiece.

Her gown was a deep green and her dark hair fell in those careful waves. A pearl brooch was at her throat. Everything about her was perfect. Cordelia’s smile was there too. It reached her eyes and it was no more real for reaching it.

Then there was Alexander Bulwark. He stood at Cordelia’s side, and the first thing I noticed was the hand. It rested on the small of her back. His palm was flat and firm against her lower back. It gave me the impression of him marking exactly how much of her belonged to him.

It was the first time I had properly looked at him. I’d had other concerns at the parade. Alexander Bulwark was tall -taller than Damian by several inches. He had broad shoulders, a squared jaw, and cold dark eyes that swept the room. He was wearing a grey coat that looked more like a military dress than noblewear.

A young girl was speaking to Cordelia. She was also doing it loudly, and with enough exaggeration that anybody could hear. It was about the betrothal, from what I could gather. The girl asked a question about the venue, one Cordelia was just about to answer. Alexander spoke over her.

“Our wedding will be held in the Capital, right after the conclusion of the King’s Tournament,” he said. His voice was deep for his age. “My father has already secured the cathedral and now the guest list is being finalized. House Bulwark does not do things by halves.”

He said it while standing next to Cordelia. He did not look at Cordelia while he said it, and Cordelia did not look at him. Her smile did not change. Her mouth simply closed and she smiled. As if she had never started talking at all.

I watched. I stood twenty feet away, a glass of something I would not drink in my hand, and I watched. Truthfully, I did not remember how I even found the glass, or when. It was simply in my hand, and my fingers were white around it.

Alexander’s hand shifted on Cordelia’s back. It moved upward, settling between her shoulder blades. Cordelia moved with him, with no change in expression at all. My hand was shaking now.

Then Alexander turned to one of the young Lords beside him, a boy roughly his age. I did not recognize him, so doubtless he was from some minor house in Aelheim. He said something I couldn’t hear and the boy laughed. Alexander’s gaze dropped to Cordelia for just a moment -down her neckline, and then back up- and he said something else that made the boy laugh harder.

Cordelia’s ring turned once. It was the first time he had looked at her that I’d seen.

The glass in my hand cracked. I looked down and there was a thin fracture that ran through the crystal, branching from where my fingers had tightened. The glass had bit into my index finger, leaking out a thin trickle of blood. I set the glass down on the nearest table.

Vaelin hummed somewhere in my mind. My hand twitched. Perhaps this was why I had picked up the glass. I tried to look somewhere else, and that’s when I saw them.

There were two people standing near the far wall. They wore armor in the same color as Alexander did. Doubtless, they were guards. One man, and one woman. Nobody seemed to notice them. They felt strong. Vaelin hummed in agreement.

I did not know why I thought that. I had no way of sensing power, no Gift that should have told me anything about two random strangers, and yet something in my gut told me that these two were dangerous. It was the same kind of feeling I had when I looked at Estovan now. I wondered why I was starting to recognize something this, when I never had before.

The woman’s gaze passed over me and did not linger. I shivered beneath it anyway. I did not like them, and I cursed myself for not having spotted them immediately.

Hidden.Vaelin hummed somewhere in my mind.

Like…a Magical Implement? Or what Sere can do? I waited, and Vaelin did not reply. Just lovely.

“Sere,” I whispered, barely moving my lips. “Do not do anything today, no matter what. I have a bad feeling about those two.”

Doubtless Sere was close enough to me to hear. Damian shifted uneasily at my side. He was looking right where I was. I turned back to Cordelia and Alexander…was walking towards me. Fuck.

His dark eyes fixed on me, and he stopped only when he was a few feet away. He was even taller up close. I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. His eyes swept over me once -from my face, down the black dress, to my boots, and back up. It took much self control not to clench my fists.

“Lady Veyne, I believe?” His voice was smooth as he held out a hand. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. Though I must confess, the reports didn’t mention how striking you are. Those eyes of yours are really quite something. Do pardon me for looking.”

He said it casually, like it was only the most natural thing to say, and it would be strange of him not to say it. I stared down at his hand, then back up at him.

Vaelin thrummed in my mind. I thought of the two guards at the far wall. I took Alexander’s hand. His grip closed around mine and held it for two full seconds before I withdrew. “Lord Bulwark. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The words sounded polite, which meant my acting was truly divine.

“The pleasure is mine.” He smiled. Perhaps another girl might have thought it a handsome smile. I thought it looked like a worm had crawled across his lips and died there. “I understand you were recently part of an expedition into the Wastes. That is quite the feat, dragging that skull back over to here. I do wonder how you managed such a thing, it took many by surprise.”

I would have thought it a cleverly practiced insult, if I did not think him an idiot incapable of one. “Count Vance and his men deserve the bulk of the credit,” I said evenly. “I was merely along for the ride.”

“Indeed.” His smile widened. “Your Count is a very capable man, from all I hear. Good soldiers are hard to come by. I dare say he would not be out of place in my father’s chain of command. I imagine having them do the heavy lifting must have been a relief.”

In Alexander Bulwark’s mind, the dragon had been killed by the big, strong men, and the little Lady had watched from a safe distance. It was the reasonable thing to assume, of course. That did very little to make me less annoyed. I still felt Vaelin stir. My right hand twitched again and I pressed the blade down. Taking the blade out here would have perhaps been the stupidest thing anyone could have ever done.

Behind me, I felt Damian shift. “The men of Aelheim are extraordinary,” I said. “I lost many of them, and each one was irreplaceable.”

Alexander’s expression didn’t change. “War takes its toll. There are always casualties. That’s what happens when you do something worth doing” he said. He paused, and his eyes dropped again. This time they lingered at my neckline before returning to my face. There wasn’t even anything to see, the high collar made sure of that. “But you seem to have come through it well enough. The Wastes haven’t marred you at all.” He tilted his head. “Rather exotic, if you’ll forgive the word.”

I would not forgive the word. I gave him perhaps the most fake smile anyone has ever given anyone else, and he did not seem to notice, or care. He nodded once, and turned and walked back towards his betrothed. Cordelia had been watching. I met her gaze, and did not know what I saw in her eyes. Her face remained as serene as ever.

The orchestra in the hall began a new piece. The slow, background melody was replaced by something faster and couples began to drift toward the center of the floor.

“I don’t like him,” Damian muttered. That was quite the understatement.

“What part gave it away?” I asked.

“The part where he left his betrothed to come over,” Damian answered. On that, we were both on the same page. A small crowd formed around the center of the hall as everyone just watched.

Alexander led Cordelia onto the floor first, naturally. I watched him pull her in close, one hand at her waist, the other clasping her hand. She moved with him effortlessly, her steps matching his without a moment’s hesitation.

It looked beautiful. Even someone who had knew nothing of dance could see that. The dance ended and there was polite applause from dozens of hands at once. Cordelia curtsied and smiled for the audience while Alexander barely inclined his head.

Then his gaze moved through the crowd and found mine again. Alexander walked forward and extended his hand. “Will you dance with me, Lady Veyne? It would be an honor.” It was framed as a question, yet here and in front of this many people, it was anything but. Perhaps he was not the fool I had assumed.

Damian stepped forward. “My Lady, perhaps-”

Alexander’s gaze slid to him. He looked like he had only noticed Damian for the very first time, and then he looked away. “Your retainer is very attentive,” Alexander said. “You should be proud. Well trained help is so very rare out here.”

Well trained help.Out here. I raised a hand, stalling Damian who had taken a step forward. What he expected to do, I did not know. He stepped back and I could feel the anger almost radiating off of him.

I looked past Alexander, at the two Bulwark guards. They had not moved. Their eyes were not sliding off me now. I looked at Cordelia. Her expression was not so perfect anymore. That was the only reason I accepted.

”I would be happy to,” I said. I took his hand. It was warm, large, and utterly repulsive. He led me to the floor. There were growing murmurs all around us.

The dance began, and I remembered another dance, another hand pulling me forward. This was nothing like that. Cordelia had been elegant. Dancing with her had deserved the word waltz.

Alexander’s dance was simpler. He moved one way and then back again. Moved one way and then back again, like he was reading off of a script. It might as well have been the motions of a soldier. His grip was firm as he led.

“You’re lighter than I expected,” he said. “Smaller, too. Some of the strange stories I’ve been hearing lately make you sound a lot bigger.”

His hand sat above my waist, barely. It was proper, and infuriated me more for it. “I imagine Aelheim must feel rather small to you,” I said coolly. “After the Capital.”

“Small?” He considered this. “I suppose that’s one word. Quaint is the word I’d use instead. Your five houses squabbling over a single city. It’s rather endearing, in its way. Like watching children divide a sandbox.”

“And your betrothed?” I asked. “Is she part of the sandbox as well?”

Alexander’s smile didn’t waver. “Cordelia was chosen well. She’ll make a fine wife. She has the breeding and the temperament for it.”

She was chosen well. Not I chose her. Not I love her. She was chosen. The way you might choose a horse.

Disgust. The Godblade pulsed in the back of my mind. Unworthy.

Yes. That was exactly the right word, Vaelin. The music swelled. Alexander pulled me into a turn. I could smell his scent. It was something sharp and expensive, and utterly repugnant.

“You know,” he said, quieter now, “my father told me you might be dangerous. Wild.” His dark eyes held mine. “I’m beginning to think he was just being dramatic. You seem perfectly tame to me.” His hand moved. It slid from my waist, down, just above my hip. Barely. By the thinnest of margins.. His thumb pressed against the silk of my dress.

Over Alexander’s shoulder, I could see the edge of the crowd. I could see Cordelia. She was watching. Her hands were folded in front of her, her posture was flawless, she wore the same smile she always did. She watched her betrothed dance with another woman, his hand where it should not be, and she did not flinch.

Then our eyes met. In the half-second before Cordelia’s gaze slid away, I saw it. There was no jealousy there. Nothing a betrothed should have to see her fiance dance with another like this. There was…sadness. She shied away from my gaze, as if I had seen something she had so wanted to keep to herself.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I don’t bite.”

I do. I shifted my weight. It was a small thing, barely a motion at all. I stepped half a beat ahead of the monotonous rhythm. Just enough that when Alexander moved forward into the next turn, my foot was where his foot was about to be. I was not a dancer, but it took no genius to read motions so obvious. Alexander’s boot caught mine. His weight was already forward, already committed to the turn. He stumbled. His grip on my hand tightened by reflex. I channeled mana, stayed in place as his grip slipped. He fell alone.

Alexander Bulwark hit the dance floor with a small thud. His shoulder struck first, then the rest of him was splayed out before me. I stared down at him, and there was silence. The murmurs had all stopped. The orchestra took two seconds before they too went quiet.

Then someone laughed. It was a girl in the crowd. I did not see her. She laughed with a single choked sound that died instantly. But it had been heard. Everyone had heard it.

I stared down at Alexander. He stared up at me. I almost smirked. Almost. “Oh- I am so sorry, Lord Bulwark, I-” I fumbled the words. “I am afraid I’m a terrible dancer! I’m so clumsy, please-”

I was offering him my hand to help him up. I suspected this was worse than the fall itself because now a hundred people were watching a son of House Bulwark be pulled to his feet by the heir of House Veyne. Alexander’s composure cracked.

It lasted one second but I saw what was underneath, and it was not embarrassing. His eyes had gone cold. Then it was gone and his smile returned. He took my hand and stood, brushing off his coat.

The Bulwark guards had shifted. The man had taken one step forward. The woman’s hand had moved to her side. They looked to their Lord, and Alexander met their gaze. He slowly shook his head, just slightly.

Alexander released my hand. He smoothed his coat, rolled his shoulder. “No harm done,” he said loudly. His voice was warm and perfectly composed. “These things happen. I should have been more careful with such a… delicate partner.”

He smiled at the room. Everyone in the crowd smiled back, awkwardly. There were a few polite laughs. The orchestra began again. Alexander leaned in, close enough that only I could hear.

“You do control yourself rather well, Lady Veyne.” His eyes held mine. “It seems you might be wild after all. I prefer that.”

He turned and walked back toward Cordelia. His hand found its place on her back, and she received him without any expression at all.

I stood in the center of the dance floor for one heartbeat longer than I should have before I walked back to the edge. Damian was at my side in an instant. “I’m fine,” I said. I was not fine, but for different reasons than before.

In that moment, I decided two things. The first was that I was someday going to make Alexander Bulwark answer for every hand he had put where it was not wanted. If Cordelia allowed it, it would not be a gentle answer. The second was that I would learn just who those two guards were.

I found a quiet place near the right wall, partially hidden behind a pillar. I leaned against the stone and closed my eyes. I took two breaths, and then I forced my hands to unclench.

Across the hall, Cordelia stood alone as Alexander had wandered some distance away to chat with someone else. Everything about her was perfect and just as dead. I could not reach her, not through normal means. Julian had seen to that. That was why I had come here, to the last place he would ever think I would go on my own. I reached into my coat and pulled out a scrap of paper. I had brought it for this purpose. I pulled a pen out from the same pocket.

The east balcony. The one overlooking the hall. Twenty minutes. Just Esra.

I folded the paper once. “Sere,” I whispered. “Take this to her.” Now was the time, when that bastard was far away from her. When those guards would not be watching.

There was the lightest brush of fingers against my wrist. There, and gone again. The paper was gone too. I did thank all the heavens and the Gods that were watching that Sere held her temper as well as I had. I thanked them again for having the wisdom not to bring Violet. That would have truly been the end of things.

I stood there for a time, watching the crowd. Watching Cordelia. Twenty minutes -I could wait twenty minutes. Whether she would come at all was another matter. For that, all I could do was pray.

Across the hall, I saw Cordelia’s hand move, just a fraction. Her fingers brushed against the pocket of her gown and then returned to her side.

“Wait here,” I told Damian. He nodded. I exhaled, pushed off the pillar, and went to find the stairs.