Chapter 3

The girl let out a peal of clear, tinkling laughter. “—And I’ve got you to thank, girl.” When she turned to Connie, she was smiling from ear to ear. Before Connie could recover from that brilliant smile, the girl had skipped lightly into the grand hall, vanishing from sight. Once she was gone, Connie grumbled, “Girl…?” The girl in the scarlet dress had sounded just like a queen. She must be some high-ranking noble attending the ball incognito after all. Connie went back into the grand hall, snatched some tarts off a platter, and crammed them into her mouth. She was stress eating. Neil was still nowhere to be seen. Neither was Pamela. Before Connie knew it, the platter was empty. She moved on without pause to the next one. As she was chomping on a mouthful of candied violets, she heard a voice timidly congratulating her. She turned around to see the baron’s daughter, Brenda Harris, standing behind her. Startled, Connie gulped down the violets. Brenda belonged to Pamela Francis’s clique. She was timid, anxious, and constantly appraising Pamela’s mood. Having finished the standard congratulations, Brenda hurriedly turned on her heel, obviously relieved to get away. Why had she come over in the first place, then? Was she a genuinely conscientious person? As Connie indifferently watched her walk off, she let out a soft “oh!” “Brenda, your hair ornament is about to fall out.” Brenda stiffened, but Connie ignored that and walked up to her, pointing to the back of her head. “Your hair’s coming loose, too. You wouldn’t want the ornament to fall out, would you?” “Oh, n-no.” “Why don’t we just take it out altogether?” “Yes, I suppose,” Brenda whispered with tragic determination. Was she really so afraid of her hair looking messy? “Do you mind if I help you?” Connie asked. Brenda’s shoulders trembled. This was unexpected. It wasn’t as if Connie planned to steal her hair ornament. After a pause, Brenda nodded fearfully. With a few quick movements, Connie rearranged Brenda’s chestnut hair. “See? Now it looks pretty even without the ornament,” she said encouragingly. Brenda looked as if she was going to cry, while Connie was getting more confused by the second. As she was trying to decide what to do next, Brenda opened her mouth and managed to say something. “Oh, um, I—I left my bag on the second floor. I’ll just run and get it, b-but would you mind holding on to my ornament until I get back?” “Yes, of course. With pleasure,” she agreed, since she had a small clutch with her anyway. The delicate ornament Brenda handed her was decorated with a flower pattern in gold leaf and rows of white pearls. She wrapped it in a handkerchief so it wouldn’t break, then slipped it into her bag. Brenda climbed the stairs without a backward glance. What was that about? All those tarts and cakes had left a sweet taste in Connie’s mouth, so she took a cup of tea from a nearby waiter. Sensing someone’s gaze on her, she glanced up. It was Wayne Hasting, a small young man she’d seen several times at other balls. He seemed to have been watching her exchange with Brenda. She knew him as a noble of similarly low rank, but they weren’t friendly enough to chat. She nodded at him, and he nodded back. The lively, cheerful music had given way to a slower song, and men and women were dancing in a large circle. Brenda still hadn’t come back. When Connie looked absently up the spiral staircase, she spotted Pamela Francis walking jauntily down it. Neil was next to her and behind them was Brenda, looking down. “Constance Grail!” Pamela cried, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. “What an outrageous thing to do!” Everyone turned toward her, wondering what had happened. Pamela curled her lips with great satisfaction. “I know your family has fallen on hard times, but don’t you think this is going a bit far? Honestly, I question your character.” The eyes of the crowd turned toward Connie. “Wh-what are you talking about?” The strange situation made her voice sound high and excited. “Oh, you intend to play the fool? That won’t work. You know you stole Brenda’s hair ornament.” She stole Brenda’s hair ornament? Connie had no idea what Pamela was talking about, but she did recognize the cruel intent in her voice. Connie’s heart pounded. “Brenda told me what happened. You said her ornament was falling out and offered to fix it for her, but then a few minutes later, she noticed it was missing. What do you have to say about that, Constance Grail?” “What do I have to say?” “It was made with pure gold and the rarest of teardrop pearls from the Yera Sea—just the kind of thing someone in need of money would kill for. Oh, yes, I understand exactly how you must have felt. After all, I’ve heard about the pitiful situation your family has gotten yourselves into.” “B-but Brenda asked me—” “She asked you? Oh, of course, you claim you didn’t steal it.” Connie wanted to explain herself, but Pamela talked so fast, she hardly even had time to answer. “Yes, but—” “Then show me your bag.” “What…?” “If you didn’t steal it, then you shouldn’t mind showing me your bag, should you?” Connie winced. Brenda’s hair ornament was in her clutch. Her panic probably showed on her face. Neil had been looking suspicious, but now his eyes widened. “Constance, I can’t believe it.” “It’s not true!” Connie screamed. But someone was already wrenching the bag from her hands. It wasn’t true! Pamela dumped the contents onto a table. Connie heard something hard clatter on its surface. “Dear me!” someone exclaimed. “Look here, Constance Grail,” Pamela said. “You said you didn’t steal it, so what’s this? Explain yourself immediately.” The golden ornament was peeking from the handkerchief she’d wrapped it in. Neil stared at it in silence. The people around them began to whisper. But it wasn’t true! Connie hadn’t stolen anything! She felt something hot rising in her throat. She clenched her fists, holding it down. “…Brenda asked me to hold it for her.” That was the truth. Connie had no reason to feel guilty. But Pamela was cruel, and she pressed Connie mercilessly. “She asked you to? As far as I can see, this ornament isn’t especially bulky or fragile. But you say she asked you to hold it? Brenda did? Even though you don’t know each other very well? That’s an awfully strange story.” Connie could hear mocking laughter in the crowd; they agreed with Pamela. They were suspicious. Suddenly, she was burning up. “Brenda!” Connie shouted, unable to contain herself. Brenda shivered in surprise. “Please tell her the truth! You asked me to hold it, didn’t you? You said you wanted me to keep it while you went to get your bag. Isn’t that right, Brenda? …Why won’t you say anything? Brenda? You wouldn’t…?” With each of Connie’s questions, Brenda curled further in on herself. “Such pathetic little excuses.” Suddenly, a terrifyingly affectionate voice broke in. “Poor Brenda. You’re frightening her. It’s all right, Brenda. You don’t have to say anything… Now you see, Neil. This is the kind of girl she is.” Pamela clung vulnerably to his arm. “You ought to raise an objection to the engagement right away. This is an irrefutable crime. If you marry her, you’ll be putting the reputation of the Bronson Company on the line.” Neil looked back and forth between Connie and the hair ornament, clearly confused. “But there’s no proof…” “Proof?” Pamela sneered. “Every person in this hall is a witness! And the priest Viscount Hamsworth is here, too. You might as well raise your complaint right away. Would somebody mind calling the viscount?” “It’s not true; I never stole anything!” Pamela turned to Connie. “This is what the sincere Grails have to show? You’re nothing but a petty thief!” “But—” Connie could hardly breathe from shock. She looked around, searching for someone who could help her. But all she found were cold, disdainful glares. Her eyes met those of Wayne Hasting, who was very pale. She was sure he’d seen what happened. She looked at him pleadingly, but he glanced away. From his expression, she could tell he was unwilling to get involved in something so troublesome. The world swayed before Connie’s eyes. Somebody! Somebody else must have seen what happened. She saw several people she recognized. But all of them only stared silently, deserting her. Somebody help me! A tear seeped from her eye. The back of her throat felt hot. It was strange. So strange. Nobody would help her. Nobody would help someone as insignificant as Connie. “Fine.” Connie never expected to hear that voice in her ear. “…What?” It was a female voice, as light and clear as a tinkling bell. She’d heard it before. In fact, she’d heard it that very night. “I’ll help you.” The voice was pretty but also haughty and insolent. For some reason, Connie felt drawn to it. “But in exchange…” Constance Grail was unable to catch the rest of the sentence—because just then, something hit her, and she lost consciousness. Who is this girl? Pamela Francis’s spine froze as Constance Grail gave her an unfathomable grin. Until very recently, this plain little thing hadn’t even registered in Pamela’s consciousness. There wasn’t one thing about her that stood out, and yet, she paraded around spewing meaningless drivel about “sincerity.” Stupid girl. She’d always hated the way this Grail got away with childish behavior that any other young lady would be ridiculed for. On top of that, she was engaged to the Neil Bronson. That tall, handsome young man with the charisma of an actor. Why should Constance get everything good? After all, she was a far inferior being to Pamela when it came to both her looks and her family’s wealth. And so Pamela decided to crush her. She’d summoned Brenda Harris just before the ball began. “I c-c-couldn’t do that.” When Brenda heard Pamela’s plan, she shook her head weakly and scrunched up her face. “Then you don’t mind ending up like Maddy?” Pamela asked, narrowing her eyes. This time, Brenda shrieked. Madison Scott had belonged to Pamela’s clique until the previous year. Unlike gloomy Brenda, she was cheerful and fairly quick-witted, so she had been among Pamela’s favorites. However, Pamela happened to overhear her saying something bad about her to a friend. Ever since, poor Maddy had become Pamela’s plaything. In the space of a few short months, she had fallen into a depression and was currently recuperating in the provinces. Pamela walked up to the trembling Brenda and pulled with all her strength on the ornament in her hair. Her pretty updo unraveled. Pamela stared into Brenda’s terrified eyes as she delivered her command. “Now, Brenda, don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not saying you have to force the situation. That’s right—if Constance doesn’t say anything about your unsightly hair, you can just come right back to me without doing a thing.” Brenda nodded repeatedly. No doubt she found a glimmer of hope in Pamela’s words. But that was naive of her. Unfortunately for Brenda, she was dealing with Constance Grail. Constance’s looks might be plain, but Pamela knew she was a nauseatingly hypocritical do-gooder. Or at least, she thought she knew. “A thief?” Pamela’s plan was proceeding without a hitch. Brenda had left her hair ornament with Constance, and Pamela had accused Constance of stealing it right in the middle of the grand hall. Everyone was staring at the girl. Everyone was questioning her innocence. Shocked, Constance had lowered her head in exhaustion—but when she looked up again, something was different. Pamela had no idea what the something was. But… “Ha! Just which one of us is the thief here?” Pamela hadn’t known that angelic Constance Grail was capable of such a nasty smile. “…What do you mean by that?” The expression was horribly calm. Constance should have been the one under fire, but for some reason, Pamela felt like she was. She could hardly bear it. But Constance just grinned like she didn’t care and said loudly, “Didn’t you know? The young man you were humping out in the bushes is my dear fiancé.” A buzz ran through the spectators at this vulgar accusation. Blood rushed to Pamela’s face. How dare she! How dare she say that in front of a crowd! “I did no such thing! Neil and I were just kissing! What a crude thing to say! You should be ashamed!” “Pamela!” Neil’s panicked voice brought her back to her senses. Now she’d done it. She’d been trapped. By the likes of Constance Grail! Constance smiled wickedly. “Dear me, I seem to have misspoken. You were only kissing—kissing someone else’s fiancé. But wouldn’t you call that the very definition of a thief?” Their relationship was public knowledge, but a rumor was a different animal from an outright admission by one of the involved parties. And to admit it in such a shameful way! Tomorrow, everyone would probably be talking about how Pamela Francis was so foolish for letting her tongue slip. Her lips trembled in humiliation. But she hadn’t lost yet. This was a draw. No—Constance had been wounded even worse than she had. “That doesn’t change the fact that you stole Brenda’s hair ornament,” she announced. But Constance just shrugged, so casually that Pamela wondered if she’d imagined her panic a few moments earlier. Constance scanned the room until her gaze rested on a certain person. A certain young man. “Excuse me, Mr.—let me think for a moment—oh yes, Hasting. Wayne Hasting!” Pamela clicked her tongue at the familiar name. How unfortunate. That skinny boy was always so good at irritating Pamela. A long time ago, she and her clique had picked on Wayne Hasting. “You saw it happen, didn’t you?” “I—I…” His freckled face turned appraisingly toward Pamela. Of course, she would never forgive him if he spoke. She narrowed her eyes. His shoulders convulsed, and he looked down. He did not finish his sentence. Constance Grail was staring at him. “Oh, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. But be careful. Lots of other people know the truth.” She smiled gleefully and slowly surveyed the grand hall. “You might not know this, but I have a very good memory. Viscountess Stan was there, and Baron Brower’s daughter, and Knight Pelham, too. Oh, and I don’t know your name, but you, in the lemon-colored dress. Yes, you. You saw it, too, didn’t you? It’s fine, though. It’s just fine if none of you wants to speak up.” The people who had just been named were staring in wide-eyed shock. A second later, their expressions changed to mortification. “After all, a shabby farce can be sorted out in no time if we look into it properly. But I simply hate wasting my mental energy.” Having said that much, Constance suddenly shifted her expression and tone. “So I’ll ask you one more time, Wayne Hasting. Please stop looking down at your feet. Remember your eye contact, dear.” This was no longer the ordinary, insignificant Constance standing before them. This was someone else—someone with a powerful presence. Pamela trembled as if her very heart were being gripped by a pair of talons. Wayne gasped softly. “If your mother could see you acting in such an ungentlemanly way, Wayne, I’m certain she’d be crushed. Are you sure you don’t have anything to say?” He must be nearing his breaking point. Wayne Hasting lifted his head unsteadily. He looked like he was about to cry. “Well done,” Constance said, smiling with satisfaction. “Now, Wayne. I’d like for us to continue being friends in the future, wouldn’t you?” The truth was, Constance and Wayne were mere acquaintances. But Pamela bit her lip uneasily at these overconfident words. “For instance, would you allow an innocent person to be falsely accused?” The whole grand hall was silent now. “And what would you think of someone who chose silence to protect themselves even while knowing the truth?” She wove together her words as fluidly as a song. “I’ll tell you what I would think. I would think that person was going to hell, and so were all the other people who pretended they hadn’t seen. Now, Wayne, think about it. When the truth becomes clear, which side will you be standing on? What will people say about you?” Wayne was clearly shaken. His eyes darted around. He looked at Pamela again— “Look at me, Wayne Hasting. I will not permit you to look away.” Wayne’s face snapped back toward Constance. Her clothes and makeup were plain, but for some reason, she was radiating an undefinably powerful aura. The weak-kneed Wayne was probably going to crumble under the pressure at any moment. His face was paler than pale. Finally, he opened his trembling mouth. “…I s-saw it.” Constance smiled. It was a thoroughly predatory smile. “I s-saw it happen. You didn’t steal the ornament, Miss Grail. You just fixed Brenda’s hair for her. And Brenda said she wanted you to hold her hair ornament for her…!” Useless boy! Pamela’s eyes flashed with anger. If no one else was watching, she would have slapped him straight across his freckled face. “I h-heard her, too.” Most annoyingly, the girl in the lemon-colored dress was now speaking up as well. Then more followed: “I saw it happen, too.” “I heard them.” “It’s just like he said.” “I saw her hand the ornament to Constance.” Now the suspicious looks were turned on Pamela. Her legs dissolved into jelly beneath the cutting stares. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this! Even Neil was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest. “Is this true, Pamela?” “N-no! I mean, I mean, Brenda—yes, Brenda must have lied to me!” Her only option now was to blame it on Brenda. Pamela had simply been trying to help a friend in need, without knowing the truth. Wasn’t that what had happened? Pamela looked at Brenda, and then— “Poor Brenda. You’re frightening her.” She’d heard those words before. She looked at Constance. Constance was smiling kindly at Brenda. Her face was as plain and unremarkable as always. Nevertheless, somehow, she was very beautiful. Brenda was staring at Constance, enchanted. “It’s all right, Brenda. You don’t have to say anything.” Constance was mimicking Pamela’s earlier words perfectly. Tears spilled from Brenda’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Pamela bit her lip. Her defeat was as clear as daylight. “What in the world is going on over here?” His round belly shaking, the evening’s host, Viscount Hamsworth, descended the spiral staircase. At first, Pamela wondered what he was doing here, but then she remembered she was the one who had asked someone to fetch him. “Nouveau riche pig.” Constance mumbled something, but unfortunately, Pamela couldn’t make it out. Right away, several people gathered around the viscount and seemed to be explaining the situation with great humor. The viscount widened his eyes theatrically at each twist in the plot, shrugged, and pretended to be in grief. When the story was complete, he turned to Constance, his eyebrows lowered in sympathy. “What horror befalls you, Miss Grail.” Constance smiled coolly. Pamela had never seen her look so condescending before. “Yes indeed. I was tempted to break my holy oath because of this horrible treatment. But before I become an apostate, I’d like to throw myself on the mercy of the goddesses. Would you favor me with your advice?” “Do you mean you want to raise an objection to your engagement?” “Would it be accepted?” “The engagement has already been made public, so it will be difficult to do quickly. Your fiancé must have something to say for himself as well.” “Can you not give happiness to a poor lamb?” “Me? Of course, I very much want to do that. Unfortunately, I oversee a different parish, and to start, it would not be easy to raise an objection in a place like this. Such things must be done at the correct place in the correct manner. As you know, the church is inviolable.” No doubt that was true. Even Pamela hadn’t thought Neil would really be able to file his objection here and now. She had called the viscount only because she wanted to further shame Constance. Of course, she was running out of patience for Neil anyway and would have been happy if he did indeed raise an objection tomorrow. A mere low-ranking noble had little sway over the church. Which was why Pamela could hardly believe the next words she heard. “That’s not my concern.” What did this girl just say? “This misconduct took place at your ball. I demand you do something about it.” The words were spoken in the tone of someone accustomed to giving orders. But the person speaking them was Constance Grail. The crowd began to buzz once again. “It shouldn’t be difficult, especially for a person like you. Enough idle chitchat. Go now and annul this engagement, and be quick about it. If you don’t—” Her voice was by no means loud, and yet, it rang out clearly across the hall. “—then I will do whatever I must to ensure His Highness hears a little rumor during Dominic Hamsworth’s ball at the Grand Merillian. One about a young man and a young lady caught engaging in indecent acts in the gardens of our gracious royal family.” In that moment, Constance Grail held the grand hall in her palm. Bizarrely, even though Viscount Hamsworth had just been rudely insulted, his eyes were glittering, and he immediately issued an order to his chamberlain. It appeared that he was actually moving forward with dissolving the engagement. Pamela desperately tried to think of a countermove. Whatever it took, she had to recover the situation. If she didn’t, her place within society would be gone by morning. Neil would probably be useless. However elegant, handsome, and smart he might be, he was no noble. Unable to keep up with the unfolding drama and unaware of what lay in wait, he simply stood there doing nothing. “Ladies and gentlemen!” Constance Grail—normally a wallflower unable to say a single clever thing around other people—was behaving like some sort of grand actress. Didn’t anyone else think it was strange? “I apologize from the bottom of my heart for interrupting this lovely gathering. Please give your blessings to this young couple burning with illicit passion. The night has just begun. Enjoy yourselves.” You two. Pamela felt as if those were the unspoken words directed straight at her. The hair rose on her arms. She opened her mouth desperately. Her instincts were screaming that she was in dire danger. If she didn’t do something fast, things would go very badly for her.