his voice, forced myself to focus. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I was saying, it’s only fair that you tell me who invited you.”
I waved. “I didn’t need an invitation.”
“Oh, why’s that?”
I stared at him blankly. What had I just said?
I’d come intent on drawing my candidates out, hadn’t anticipated a reciprocated interest in the nobody I was posing as. I hadn’t prepared anything beyond a false name.
Now I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t point to my identity. I wasn’t used to lying. The most I did was refrain from telling the truth of my opinion, offering rehearsed diplomacies instead.
Frantically, I searched for an answer that would have an element of truth, without exposing it. Just like the biggest and best liar I’d ever met used to do, Cyrus’s future queen.
Among her half-truths—when she’d been sent by the witch Nariman to infiltrate the Bride Search and steal the magic lamp—had been introducing herself as Lady Ada of Rose Isle, an obscure islet in Arbore. It was close enough to the truth, since she was from Hericeurra, or Ericura now, a forgotten Arborean colony thought lost to history. Even Lady Ada was almost a reversal of her very name, Adelaide.
Following her example, I now replied hurriedly, “My mother is the queen…” I paused before forcing out the fabrication, “…the queen’s lady-in-waiting.”
The man gave a small bow. “Well, milady, I’m going to need you to laugh very loudly, like I’ve just said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.”
I gaped at him. “Why?”
“Just trust me. Laugh. Hard.”
“But I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Can’t laugh, not on demand, certainly never in public. It’s poor manners.”
“Is that why you have such a long face?”
“Excuse me?”
He gestured over my head. “The horse mask, long face, get it?”
“Oh. Ha. Ha,” I snarked, then bit my tongue.
What was I doing, mocking him? I should be doing everything in my power to ingratiate myself to him. If he wanted me to laugh, I should laugh.
Then I opened my mouth and I found myself saying, “Ladies shouldn’t laugh, and if we do, we should cover our mouths, and keep it to a delicate chuckle, quiet enough to not be disruptive, but audible enough to flatter whatever clever quip our companion just made.”
He was the one who laughed heartily. “And here I thought you can’t laugh because you’ve broken your funny bone.”
My jaw dropped behind my mask. “There’s a funny bone?”
I could still hear the grin in his voice. “Two humerus bones, actually.”
“Humorous?”
“Humerus.” He spelled the word as he raised the hands on my waist to squeeze my upper arms. “These things. Ever slam your elbow and feel a charge shoot to your fingertips?”
“That’s what’s considered funny? What’s so funny about pain?”
“Pain is hilarious, as long as it’s inflicted on someone who deserves it.” Before I could say it would be vengeful, or appeasing, but not funny, he added, “Now let’s get you laughing. And don’t worry, I won’t tell your governess.”
“I really can’t laugh on command. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to tonight.”
There was a frown in his voice as he said, “What’s tonight?”
Only the most important night of my ever-decreasing lifespan!
“I’m here to make a good impression,” I mumbled.
He huffed with a shake of his head. “Clearly that worked a little too well, first with Wolfy, and now you have another relentless suitor following you. And there’s no more avoiding him.”
I looked to where he was gesturing, and found Björn waving at me wildly, and plowing through the dancers like a boulder thundering down a mountain.
Groaning, I remembered that I’d promised I’d let him know when we could go to the river later this evening. Knowing him, he wouldn’t take a quick answer and leave. He’d ramble on and drag me to eat some more, and interrupt this precious time with the Grand Duke.
The time my life literally depended on.
Panicking, I grabbed my companion by the arm. “We must get out of here!”
“We don’t need to,” he insisted. “That’s why I suggested you laugh. A lady laughing unreservedly at a gentleman’s diverting efforts is a sign that she favors him, and for all other suitors to step back.” He looked to the side where Björn had just knocked a couple off their feet, thankfully slowing him down, and shook his head. “At least I hope that mountain of a man follows those unspoken rules.”
“He doesn’t!” I almost wailed.
He snuck quick looks around, scoping out the area like a true fox would for an escape, before setting his hands on my