Page 157 of House of Roots and Ruin
Ididwant to wear it again.
Even knowing all I did. Even knowing what was said to come.
I wanted to marry Alex.
Viktor’s fervent kisses couldn’t change that.
Nor Kosamaras’s warnings or Gerard’s mad plotting.
I let out a short puff of breath, centering myself.
I would stay.
I would seek.
I would fight.
Fight for the truth. Fight to drag every secret and scheme out of hiding, letting the chips fall where they might.
I wanted to fight for the boy whowasinnocent in all of this.
The one who held my heart with tender, earnest hands.
The one I’d fallen in love with.
“I think we’re ready,” Dauphine said, calling Madame Fujiwara over to begin her final inspection.
I squared my shoulders and set my chin high, resolution steeling my frame.
Yes, I certainly was.
“I think I spotted a patisserie on the corner,” I mentioned casually as we stepped out of the atelier. All of the brothers had agreed my confrontation needed to happen away from Chauntilalie. “Would you like to stop for a little treat before heading home?”
Dauphine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Verity—that was a final fitting. Even the great Madame Fujiwara won’t be able to take that dress out if you gain an ounce before the wedding day.”
“Just tea,” I promised with a winning smile. “I was hoping I could speak with you about something…outside the house.”
She checked the clock tower looming over the square. “Not today, I think. Our to-do list is nearly as long as the Menagerie itself.”
I grabbed her hand before she could indicate to the carriage driver that we were ready to depart. “I was thinking of…a gift…for Alex. A wedding gift. I just…I don’t want to chance him overhearing anything.”
Dauphine grinned wickedly. “My dear,youare meant to be his gift.” She twisted her lips thoughtfully. “Which reminds me, we ought to look through your trousseau next. You’ll want to have new nightgowns…chemises…silk stockings…”
“A physical gift,” I clarified, feeling my ears burn.
“Alex won’t be expecting it.”
“All the more reason for it, yes? A happy surprise.”
She studied me, her resolve wavering.
“Actually,” I began, wracking my mind to think of anything to tip the odds in my favor. “I wanted to speak with you about…about certain things…for the wedding night,” I stammered. “As you know…I didn’t grow up with a mother, and my sisters are all so far away….”
She let out a soft sigh of understanding. “Ah, yes. Of course. Of course we can talk. But not there…That sort of conversation requires privacy and the baker’s wife is such a gossip. Half the town will know your secrets before you’ve finished your first macaron.” She glanced down the street, brightening. “There’s a tavern around the corner that Gerard likes to visit. They’ve a little area set aside, just for him, can you imagine?”
“Being the duke comes with many privileges,” I murmured, hoping I captured the right amount of awe.
“And so does the duchess,” she said with a grin, tugging me down the promenade.
