Chapter 5
Corisande asked to speak to me alone.
I said no.
Not yet.
Tessara mattered first.
She stood near the service doors wearing a fresh pair of gloves because champagne had dried sticky across her fingers.
“You can go home.”
She shook her head.
“My shift—”
“Ended when someone shoved your hand away for helping my mother.”
She looked uncertain.
People who work around power learn to fear generosity almost as much as anger.
“Will I lose my job?”
“No.”
“Because of Miss Corisande?”
“No.”
Then she asked:
“Is Mrs. Veynham safe?”
Good question.
“Yes.”
Only then did Tessara relax.
She told me one more detail.
Earlier that evening, Nathaniel Shaw had asked whether Merewyn would sit near the terrace doors.
Why?
Supposedly so he could bring the car closer if she tired.
Tessara thought it considerate.
Now?
It meant he was monitoring my mother’s position.
Maybe they expected her to leave before the final toast.
Maybe not.
“What else?”
“He asked whether her hearing aids worked well in crowds.”
My blood cooled.
That was not about transportation.
Corisande had not simply reacted when Mother overheard something.
Someone had already been thinking about what she could hear.
I looked at Corisande across the terrace.
She saw the change in my face.
“What?”
I walked toward her.
“Who asked Nathaniel about my mother’s hearing?”
Her eyes widened.
Not guilt.
Confusion.
Again.
Someone inside the plan was operating beyond her knowledge.
She whispered:
May you like
“My father.”
Of course.
