Abram turned to the robed man. “This is my daughter, Liliana. Liliana, this is Nicholas Bergson, the Minister of Magic.”
“A pleasure to meet you, lovely lady,” Bergson said, beaming. “His Grace’s wife is so charming, his son so gifted—and now I see his daughter is every bit as delightful. Your family must be the envy of many.”
There was something oily in his manner, as though he might start wringing his hands at any moment. With an exaggerated flourish, he took Liliana’s hand and planted a gentle kiss on the back. His warm breath gave her goose bumps, and she withdrew the moment he released her.
Ignoring his daughter’s lack of manners, Abram moved straight to the matter at hand, as sunny as ever. “Liliana lost her voice to a fever during the epidemic, and her doctor insists it might never return. I suspect that means a curse is behind it.”
Marianne held her breath. Liliana, meanwhile, could make even less sense of her father’s intentions. His unreadable gaze seemed to pierce right through her, yet he played the part of a kind father worried for his daughter.
“If a curse is to blame, a mage can help lift it,” the duke said, watching her closely. “Mr. Bergson is the highest-ranking mage in the kingdom. You wouldn’t want His Highness to give up on you, would you?”
The words drilled into Liliana since childhood echoed in her mind: “You’re my pawn. If you don’t want to be discarded, keep me satisfied and act like it.” It was one of the few things Abram had ever said to her directly.
The duke’s smile widened as he stared down at his little daughter. She had gone pale, though not for the reason he imagined. Liliana was simply confused.
What could this possibly mean? Isn’t it convenient for him that I don’t have my voice?
It also struck her as strange that he would speak so overbearingly in front of the Minister of Magic. He had always ruled through fear, but until now, he had at least kept up appearances in public.
“You’re right, from the look of things,” Bergson told the duke, studying Liliana closely. She was too lost in thought to really notice. “I can lift most curses, of course, but it takes precise control of mana—and my help won’t work if the target isn’t willing. So, young lady?”
Liliana lowered her eyes slightly. In a roundabout way, the minister was offering to dispel the hex then and there, with her father’s full approval. But she had no intention of regaining her voice. She didn’t want to be forced to find some other way to lose her status as a candidate for the crown prince’s fiancée, so she shook her head and feigned a tremble.
Bergson’s smile faded into surprise. “Don’t you want to be rid of your curse?”
It was a gamble. If her father commanded it, she would have no choice but to go through with removing the hex. Yet even then, Abram kept his intentions well concealed. He wore the same ambiguous expression, neither abandoning his frightened daughter nor showing relief.
As Bergson opened his mouth to speak, Liliana thought she heard a noise, high-pitched and metallic. She barely had time to locate its source before Philip approached at a half sprint.
“Master!”
Abram and Bergson turned to the butler, who made his announcement with a bow.
“His Highness has arrived.”
Liliana couldn’t keep from shooting Philip a cold glare. She was a candidate for the crown prince’s fiancée, yet the butler acted as if she didn’t exist. At least his arrival diverted Abram’s and Bergson’s attention from her refusal. Though she still didn’t understand her father’s plan, it was enough to avoid being pressured into dispelling the hex.
I suppose I should be grateful for Philip’s rudeness—as long as His Highness doesn’t offer to remove the hex too.
Abram and Bergson moved to the entrance hall to greet the crown prince, and Liliana followed. Her brother had arrived ahead of them, while her grandparents and mother appeared shortly after. Belinda was straining to keep her daughter out of sight.
Through the widely open doors, a six-horse coach came into view, emblazoned with the royal family’s lion-and-sword insignia. Knights serving as escorts opened the coach doors, and out stepped Riley himself, dressed in a frock coat.
Abram wasted no time approaching the crown prince, whose guards stood on either side of him. “Your Highness, I am most humbly honored by this visit,” he said tactfully.
“Duke Clarke.” Riley motioned with one hand. “There’s no need for ceremony. This is a joyous occasion for my fellow student and fiancée...candidate.”
“Your magnanimity knows no bounds, Your Highness,” Abram said, keeping his head lowered.
Riley nodded, then shifted his attention to Liliana’s grandparents. It was his first time meeting them, though he had heard of the previous head of the family from his grandfather.
“Sir, madam—it pleases me to see you both in good health,” the crown prince said.
“You are most kind, Your Highness,” replied Rodney, the former head of the family. He carefully avoided flowery language, as Riley had requested, while still showing the prince the respect he was due.
Once the formal greetings were over, Riley turned to Clyde and Liliana, grinning. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Clyde. And the same to you, Lady Liliana.”
Clyde grew bashful, while Liliana smiled and dipped into a ladylike bow. Riley advanced deeper into the estate and addressed the Minister of Magic.
“I see you’re here as well, Bergson. Thank you for your assistance on many fronts.”
“Please, it’s nothing worth mentioning. If anything, I am acutely aware of my own fecklessness.”
Riley handed his mantle to his chamberlain, revealing a tuxedo underneath, and followed the duke toward the courtyard, his entourage in tow. As the prince would be staying the night, Philip ordered that his belongings be brought inside.
“Fecklessness,” was it? Did His Highness ask something of the minister?
Neither Riley nor Bergson had elaborated, so Liliana put the matter on hold for the time being. She had greeted the prince, as her father had instructed; all that remained was to find an appropriate moment to excuse herself and retire to her chambers. She saw Riley at the palace often enough that she had no reason to linger.