”Don’t let Lord Burrows hear you say that,” Constance warned, trying to push her own fears aside, ”or you’ll have an entire parade of eligible ladies brought before you.” After all, thanks to the war, there were many more eligible noble ladies than noblemen. And Erwin Therrien was Duke; he could quite literally have any of them he pleased.
But it was none of Olive’s business. And entering the Festival quickly took her mind off of it. Olive felt unspeakably awkward. After years of running and hiding, riding through a crowd that was staring at you just didn’t come naturally. In fact, she was so distracted she barely noticed the stablehand approaching and the horses instinctively drawing to a stop. She glanced down at Erwin’s hand. Constance Carwick was fully capable of dismounting a horse herself and her gut reaction was to do just that. But, You’re not living in the wild anymore, Constance, she scolded herself. There were expectations now. So, hesitantly perhaps, she took Erwin’s hand and dismounted. Quickly, feeling she might be her only friend at the event, Olive kissed Searchlight’s nose before the stablehand led her away.
”I think it’s a little early for March beer,” Olive commented absently as she followed Erwin. Her attention was still straying to all those around her. And she felt a wave of physical relief when he steered them away from the platform where most of the nobles mingled. Thank Angsar. Olive definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.
She needed a few March beers first. Or maybe that was a terrible idea.
’You can always focus your attention on children.’ Grace’s words echoed in her head when a little girl pressed forward with a fist full of yellow spring flowers. Olive crouched down to meet the girl and smell the flowers. Yes, this was easier. Children were far less intimidating! Plus, she thought, they had no idea who she was. Olive was asking the girl about the flowers and telling her how nice her dress was in a vaguely familiar voice cut through the crowd.
”Constance?” it called. ”Constance Carwick?”
By the time Olive had looked up and gotten to her feet, she found herself being embraced. It was a pretty woman, with dark red hair and bright blue eyes, dress made finer than average, like Olive’s own. Her stomach swollen beneath the dress in the mid-stages of pregnancy. And when the woman released her, Olive recognized her: It was Lainey Kassian. Lord Kassian’s youngest daughter. No, Olive reminded herself, Lainey Kenins. They’d been married shortly before Olive had left. She remembered thinking it was a pity; she’d always liked Lainey Kassian. A few years older than her, Lainey had always been kind to her, despite her Mark. But Olive just blinked at her now, feeling too startled and out of place to reply quite yet.
Thankfully Lainey filled the silence. ”Oh my lords, I can’t believe it; it is you.” She kissed Olive on both cheeks. And before Olive could reply, her husband appeared at her side. Lord Roland Kenins looked happy, confident, and in good cheer. The Kenins, it seemed, were also taking the opportunity to spread their charm around the common people.
”Constance,” he greeted with a warmth that hid the fact that he’d only weeks before tried to frame her for the murder of the guard. He took her hand and swooped down to kiss her once on the cheek. A very warm, familiar greeting from both of them. Olive was sure she’d never, in fact, been so close to either. ”It’s so nice to finally see you.”
Again, Olive just blinked. She was sure that last comment was really directed at Erwin. ”Uhh…” Maybe she wasn’t ready for this.
But Roland Kenins had moved on to greet Erwin, leaving Lainey with Olive. The other woman took her hand, asking with a mix of what Olive thought might be genuine compassion and pity, ”How have you been?”
”Um,” Olive realized she couldn’t stare and stutter her way through the entire day. So, lying a little, she finally mustered a smile and answered, ”Better since coming home.”
