Oh My, I Messed Up the Story

The next few weeks were hell on earth. I was only allowed outside my room for social events and tea time.

Duke Orla refused to give up but over time my suitors gradually dwindled from two dozen to about eight. Since I was so uncooperative, barely showing the minimum required social politeness, most of them gave up in order to hunt easier prey.

My suitors now included Duke Orla (the most persistent), Al (who I had only seen in passing at a few higher end events—who was he anyway?), the second son of the Marquis of Carrabaas, the first son of the Earl of Candleton, Viscount Wilhelm (which my mother barely allowed since he was a rank below us), the third son of the Duke of Renaya, the much younger brother-in-law of the current Marquis of Quiste, and the Earl of Eddingburrough.

Despite Percy's anger at me, none of them were over thirty, though about half were in their late 20s. I may be 23 on the inside but they didn't know that so they were still creeps for wanting an underage girl more than a decade younger than them.

I was dressed up almost as frivolously as I had been the day of my debut and we were on our way to a croquet (at least it seemed like croquet; the rules and name were slightly different) tournament. It was kind of like a big outdoor picnic held at the archduke's estate.

The archduke, the only one with his title, was the current queen's brother and held a lot of political power. This was problematic for the hero and heroine since he was firmly in the crown prince's camp.

Everybody ranked viscount and above would be in attendance today so the countess insisted on making me extra beautiful. Ugh. I could hardly move my face since it was so stiff from the heavy makeup.

Forget moving my face, I could hardly move anything! The cage I was in today was even more restrictive than the last and my corset had never been tighter.

Percy had hardly spoken to me either since I supposedly betrayed him by running away. Fine. I didn't need him anyway.

At least, that is what I told myself to try and feel better. Truthfully I felt like a knife was twisting my insides every time he refused to look at me.

It was physically impossible for me to play croquet in this dress so I sat with a group of other debutantes and suitors listening to them make small talk and trying to drown everything else out.

Duke Orla handed me a strawberry lemonade with a valiant attempt at a winning smile on his face. Apparently he had taken my criticism to heart. I mean, good for him, it will help him find another girl, but he seemed to think it was working on ME.

"Lady Catherine, I do hope you will entertain us today."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I said stiffly, accepting the drink because if I didn't I might be executed for treason or something equally ridiculous. "I'm not much of a conversationalist."

"You are too modest! I have always enjoyed our conversations. You are well versed in many topics," he praised.

Great. Now it seemed like we've talked a lot more than we have, hinting at intimacy, AND everyone was looking at me. I couldn't exactly refute a duke.

"You are too kind, Your Grace," I said through gritted teeth. "I am no better a conversationalist than any of these accomplished ladies present."

There. Now he couldn't continue praising me without offending the others. Ha.

"It is less about the quality of the conversation than it is about the topic," Duke Orla continued, not caring who he offended.

"Your topics of conversation are unique."

Four other debutantes with their hearts set on the duke shot me death glares.

"Lady Cordelia is at least as well-versed in herbistry as I am," I said demurely.

This was a lie but they didn't have succulents in this world so my encyclopedic knowledge of those didn't count.

The daughter of the Duke of Renaya, who I just praised, looked up from her teacup in surprise before swiftly taking the hint.

"I am a student of herbistry, Your Grace. I would be delighted to converse with you on the subject."

He bowed out of it as quickly as possible, sly as ever.

"I may take you up on that another time. I was merely referring to how difficult it is to find someone to talk to who is knowledgeable about both politics and architecture."

The ladies murmured amongst themselves with a bit of hostility. Both of those were 'manly' subjects looked down upon by their mothers. Of course they hadn't learned about it in their lessons to become proper ladies.

"Lady Catherine, I had no idea you were so well studied on such…unique…subjects."

I smiled softly. "My father's library is quite extensive and I have spent much time there."

His library had nothing on the public library back in Arizona, let alone the internet.

The archduke and archduchess approached us then and my blood ran cold because the crown prince and crown princess were right behind them. Aside from the king, the most powerful men in the kingdom were right in front of me.

This didn't bode well. Did they plan to force me to accept the duke's suit so I would be sucked into their evil little circle?

Everyone rose to bow or curtsy, respectively. A collective murmur of "Your Highness" and "Your Grace" arose from all present.

"Be at ease, young friends. We merely came over to see some of the delightful new talents the kingdom has to offer. I have heard much about the accomplishments of Lady Catherine du Pont."

I stiffened instantly. Who was it? The duke or the crown prince? The crown prince knew about me through the duke? So many thoughts flew through my mind that I barely managed to compose a sentence.

"I am unworthy of such praise, Your Grace."

Prince Sigmund spoke up at that moment.

"My dear friend Duke Orla has had nothing but positive things to say about you, Lady Catherine. The House of Orla will greatly benefit from your sharp mind."

I was right. They were trying to trap me. Help. A response…I had to come up with a response or I would basically be stuck admitting that I was the future duchess.

I was too flustered to say anything! Was this the end for me?

"I…I haven't—" I stammered. "No offer has been made, Your Highness."

That was it. That was all I had. It was true but it wasn't a defense.

All Duke Orla had to do was make the offer and I was done for. The countess would be thrilled.

"By all means then, Charles, make one before the lady in question gets snatched away," the crown prince said good naturedly, clapping a hand on the duke's shoulder.

Prince Sigmund was twenty-six and treated the duke as a younger brother due to his brilliant strategic mind. More so than he did his own brothers.

"I'm afraid that will not be possible," a familiar voice spoke up from behind me. "The lady has already accepted an offer from me."