Page 106 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time
“I think people let their guard down at parties. Someone will slip up.”
Soren leans back in his chair, stretching. “And if they don’t?”
Selene tilts her head. “Then at least we’ll know who doesn’t have something to hide.”
Dorian studies her for a long moment. Then, finally, he nods. “All right. We’ll host a ball.”
Ariella claps her hands. “Oh, this is going to be fun! I’ve beenlongingto go to a ball!”
Dorian sighs, already regretting everything. “Do we invite the Duke?”
Selene flinches. “I think we have to. It will cause a scandal if we don’t, and maybe limit our invitations in future.”
“I’m not sure Dorian thinks that’s the negative that you clearly do,” Soren teases.
“I’m being purely practical!”
“In this case, I agree with Selene,” says Dorian. “We can’t afford to cut off all social ties.”
“Yes, thank you, husband,” says Selene.
Dorian smirks into his cup at the wordhusband.
“We should invite the King, too,” Selene announces.
Dorian nearly drops his cup. “TheKing?”
“Well, I doubt he’ll attend, but if you could catch the Duke in the act of committing treason—”
Dorian shakes his head. “I’ve tried informing him before,” he says. “It… did not go well.”
“Shall I refrain from sending him an invite, then?”
Dorian thinks for a moment. He exchanges a glance with Soren, then sighs. “No, you’re right, on the off chance we catch the Duke doing something treasonous, it would help to have the King there.”
“He won’t take against you for your previous interactions?”
“I doubt he even remembers.”
Neither he nor Soren will elaborate further, but Selene doesn’t press it; she has a ball to plan.
Selene has always known that hosting a ball required effort, but she has not quite appreciated the sheer scale of it until now. It was one thing to attend a grand event and admire the spectacle—it was, apparently, quite another to orchestrate one from the ground up.
Ebonrose Hall had not hosted such an affair in years, which meant preparations have to begin immediately. The first task is hiring additional staff. Ariella takes charge of that, sending word to the village and beyond for extra footmen,scullery maids, and stablehands. The influx of guests mean an increase in everything: food, drink, oil, candles, linens, horses—Selene hadn’t even considered how many carriages would need accommodation.
“The stables will be packed,” Dorian mutters one evening, scanning the list of expected attendees.
“So we’ll expand,” Selene replies. “Soren, you and Fred can organise temporary lodgings for the coachmen and stablehands.”
“Temporary lodgings,” Soren repeats with a grin. “I do love how you phrase ‘finding somewhere to put the poor bastards who have to tend to rich people’s horses.’”
Selene rolls her eyes. “I’ll leave the phrasing to you, then.”
The gardens need pruning, a task that Rookwood leads. “The rose beds are a disaster,” he declares the next morning, hands on his hips as Selene surveys the grounds with him. “And if we’re hosting a masquerade, the hedge maze should be tidied up—it adds to the mystery.”
Selene has chosen the masquerade theme for precisely that reason. Masks grant people an illusion of freedom, make them bolder, looser with their words. If anyone at Ebonrose has secrets to spill, this will be the perfect setting for them to do so.
There is also the matter of decorations. She and Dorian decided upon deep blue and emerald green, like a forest at night. The grand hall will be lined with candles, chandeliers adorned with draping fabric to soften the light. Large floral arrangements will fill the space, and the finest musicians in the region have been hired to play.
