I don’t remember how many guests are here, but I can’t have talked with even half of them. I wish more of them would come in larger groups, just to get this all over with. I want to get out there and try to dance before the musicians get tired.

Kaylin is dressing up some workplace gossip as an ethics case for Mrs. Silverfold and Mr. Brewer. To my right, Meekah and Janelle whisper about the “creepiness” of Judah and his classmates as if I couldn’t hear them. I roll my eyes and savor some pear cider. I look among the crowd for stories to imagine about some of the strangers here.

I gasp with a mouthful of cider. I choke it down and try to compose myself.

A tall man with light hair, a slightly shorter man of darker and similar features, and an even smaller woman with brown hair, all wearing some combination of white and turquoise, stop at my family’s table. Mom settles back in her chair with an intensely dissatisfied look on her face, but my brothers give the younger man a much more enthusiastic moment of their time.

The Benoit-Esperanzas are finally coming up. And Benicio is with them. Of course, Benicio is with them, his absence would be beyond absurd. Except that he travels for work, so his absence wouldn’t be out of the question.

I don’t have anything prepared to say when he gets to me.

Do I ask about work? He probably gets those questions all the time. I’ve got to do better than that. Do upcoming travel plans count as work questions? No, but I should stay away from any kind of travel-related questions, just to be safe. I bet he knows what it’s like to fly in an airship by now, though…

Benicio finally detaches from my family’s table and meets his mom in front of Daddy. Mr. Esperanza-Cordon follows with a backward glance, though even with my glasses I can’t quite see where it’s aimed. Daddy welcomes Benicio to the conversation. Daddy talks to him and his mom with the liveliness of one of his post-acquisition celebrations. Benicio must be speaking with the ease and friendly style of his writing.

What if I can’t match it? What if I come across as dull? Or a dullard?

My family laughs me out of my stupor.

I huff. I’m being ridiculous. I knew Benicio before he became famous. When he reaches me, it’ll all just be catching up. Just talking. It’s not like he’s putting a piece on me in Atlantia’s most-read periodical. But, since we haven’t seen each other in years, I should still put on my best face.

I fuss with my braided tiara of hair. I clasp my hands on the table. No, that’s too eager. I fold them on top of each other. Too polite? I put them in my lap, but that just feels rude, like I’m hiding them so nobody can shake them. I place my hands around my mostly empty plate and peek at the line.

Madame Benoit-Esperanza is already talking with Max and Hanna. How did she get up here so fast? I breathe deep and pull the ends of my stole together.

Madame Benoit-Esperanza clasps the bride’s hand, turns, and walks past bridal attendant after bridal attendant. I hold my breath and look straight ahead. Should I say anything about her skipping attendants? Maybe not. Especially if she skips me, too. She passes Meekah, but stops right in front of me.

Madame Benoit-Esperanza has the much browner skin of humans from out west, deeper into Alarus. She’s shorter and a little stouter than Mom, but walks with an even more refined grace. Some silver streaks through her tied-up black hair, but her green eyes have what Dad would call a “calculating spark.”

She raises a folded, turquoise fan that matches her vine-patterned gown to her chin and smiles at me. “It is a pleasure to see you again, young Miss DiRossi.”

I smile back. Hearing Madame Benoit-Esperanza speak makes me want to travel to the north-central plains, just to surround myself with that airily rasping accent. When I see a dark shape marching up behind her, though, my smile flinches.

I cannot let him ruin this conversation.

“It’s lovely to see you, too. Judah!” I stand and wave from him to my guest. “I would like you to meet Madame Genevieve Benoit-Esperanza. Madame Benoit-Esperanza, this is Judah, my personal security coordinator.”

Madame Benoit-Esperanza calmly grins, turns, and points her folded, white-and-turquoise fan at him. “Ah, yes. I recognize the fine construction. I recall seeing you on the edge of the dais with your counterparts.” She turns back to me. “Your father and I failed to discuss his own chief of security. He can be quite the shrewd showman, debuting his newest assets without warning at the biggest social event of the year.” Madame Benoit-Esperanza clasps her fan over her stomach. “May I suppose Don Baron DiRossi has retained your services indefinitely?”

I hold my breath. I care less what his answer is than how he answers it.

Judah turns his head to me, then back to Madame Benoit-Esperanza. “Yes, you may suppose as much.”

“Splendid.”

I relax like a marionette with freshly cut strings. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Madame Benoit-Esperanza,” I say as I sit down. “It’s been too long!”

Madame Benoit-Esperanza nods once. “I merely board the trains from the north, I cannot drive them. Had my son made it into the groom’s party, I would not have left the Free City at all.”

I lower my eyes. “I understand, Madame. I assure you, Benicio was on Max’s list, but he missed out by only one spot.”

Madame Benoit-Esperanza flicks her hand. “The trouble is neither yours nor your brother’s. These things are decided and passed; they mustn’t be fretted.”

“Please believe me; I tried to persuade Maximus to give Benicio a spot. He would be a much bet—”

I cut myself off with a shallow breath. I lower my voice and lean forward. “I would prefer his company to many of the options left available to me.” I let my eyes wander toward Meekah.

Madame Benoit-Esperanza tilts her head back slowly with a knowing smirk. “May I suppose that you are another of his admirers?” I follow her gaze to her husband and son.

Max and Benicio seem to be back into one of their lively debates. Hanna and Mr. Esperanza-Cordon don’t seem put off, so the longtime friends must be on one of their lighter subjects.

I nod. “Oh, yes.”

That came out wrong. I sit up straight and look Madame Benoit-Esperanza in the eyes. “But, um, no!”

That’s even more wrong! I gather my thoughts and lean forward. “His composition is so detailed, yet so clear and evocative. The research alone on each article must take weeks. How does he produce such quality columns on a regular basis?”

“We all have our talents, Miss DiRossi. I hear you’ve taken lessons under Sinmaryil Onlarion. Perhaps you will, one morning, find your own fortunes bolstered by my son’s evocative composition?”

I blush so hard, I fear it shows through my makeup. “Maybe.” I join my hands on the tabletop and tap my thumbs together, staring at them. “I-I’ve just started my lessons, and there’s no knowing when Benicio will be back around, or if I’ll even be good enough to warrant any sort of special attention by the time he returns. I suppose Daddy could find me some stages,” I laugh nervously, “but who would want to hear some rich man’s child sing old hymnals, DiRossi or not? I couldn’t even tell you how to use spells without risking the city guard getting involved…”

Madame Benoit-Esperanza places a hand over mine. Under the coolness of her palm, I unclench my throbbing fingers.

I look up at Madame Benoit-Esperanza.

She tilts her head forward. “Your worry is misplaced, Miss DiRossi. Your father’s faith in you and your ability is not. Not once have I known your father to invest in a venture or a vision without absolute certainty. You, your brothers, your mother – none of you are exceptions. If you lose faith in yourself, keep the faith your father has in you. Do you understand?”

I take a deep breath and release it as a resolute sigh. “Yes, Madame.”

She winks at me. “I gave this same advice to Benicio when he was your age.” She turns to her left. “It seems to have done you well, wouldn’t you say?”

This time, I don’t follow her gaze. Madame Benoit-Esperanza steps aside to let the tan man of my oldest brother’s age take her spot.

He’s Max’s height, but slightly underbuilt for his size. His hair is a neat nest of tight black curls. A long day’s scruff speckles his tanned beige face. He must’ve been working on something to the last minute. He, like his father, wears a turquoise vest and tie over ivory shirt and slacks.

“I’ll say, it has. Benicio Diego Benoit-Esperanza, at your service.”

I choke down the exhilarated squeal rising in my throat and lift a suddenly sweaty hand. I shove both hands under the table and try to dry them off on my dress as I work up a smile.

“Yes, I know.”

My eyes shoot open. Could I have been more presumptuous? I laugh it off.

“I mean, I remember. You visited my brother often before he began studying to join my father’s business. Maximus, that is. Clearly.” I cough, lower my eyes, and offer a hand.

Benicio gasps. “Little Klóe Miranda? Ha-ha!” He grasps my right hand between his and pumps it.

This glove is going straight to my nightstand, right next to my lamp crystal, without a stop with the launder between.

“I don’t believe it; I hardly recognized you!” Benicio turns to Mr. Esperanza-Cordon. “Perhaps you should warn Donna Talia, Papa. Time will be short before this one is fending off her many suitors with a large stick.”

Mr. Esperanza-Cordon frowns at me. He looks around with a wariness that seems less like Judah would, and more like a vole caught out in the open. Still, the thinness of his face and body gives him a certain… severity.

He leans toward his son. “I believe Don Baron DiRossi understands her future troubles full and well. Now, let us finish this tour and return to our seats.” When Mr. Esperanza straightens up, his eyes dart toward Judah and linger.

I sigh. I don’t know which to blame for this interruption more.

Mr. Esperanza-Cordon clears his throat. “How do you fare, Miss DiRossi?”

I nod and hold out my hand. “I am well, sir. Are you enjoying the reception?”

He shakes my hand. “Of course. I hope it continues well for you.” He steps back from the table and steals more glances at Judah.

Madame Benoit-Esperanza turns to Judah with a tense smile. She unfurls her fan to reveal a stylized ram in its bright teal inks and begins to wave it in front of herself.

“Please, forgive my husband. And do take care of Miss DiRossi, Judah.” She turns back to me and nods. “Have a wonderful night, Miss DiRossi. May you sleep well at its end.”

I nod back shakily. “And you, as well, Madame Benoit-Esperanza.”

She looks to the maid-of-honor’s spot. Without another word or gesture, she turns and walks back to the main reception area.

Benicio knits his eyebrows and shakes his head wistfully. “I suppose we should get after her before the dire whispers get started. It was a pleasure and a half seeing you again, Klóe. I’ll look forward to it again. The baby shower’s only a matter of time, right?”

“Yes, of course. I mean, I would assume so. I don’t know the inner workings of their relationship, so I couldn’t possible give you a schedule. Or anything.”

Could I simply not talk anymore until I’m laid down in my grave?

Benicio laughs. He bows, but keeps his neck craned toward me. “I wish you a pleasant and relaxed evening, Miss Klóe.” He turns to Judah and pauses long enough to wish him a pleasant evening, as well.

Benicio leads his father to the maid-of-honor. Once they engage in conversation, Judah walks past them and around the table to meet me. Mr. Esperanza-Cordon flinches away from Judah as he passes, even with a table between them.

I take a deep soothing breath once Benicio leaves. Another guest, an elderly man with a four-footed cane and a trim gray beard, toddles his way to Max and Hanna. He’s probably harmless.

I twist in my seat.to address my returned security chief. “Judah?”

“Young Miss?”

“I don’t suppose you have the ability to protect me from potentially embarrassing situations like the one I just suffered, do you?”

Judah looks down on me. He says he can see all around himself, but there must be something that makes him turn his face to me on occasion.

“I think you conducted that round of conversation well enough. If it passed so poorly as you believe, I may endeavor to deepen my understanding of folks’ more sophisticated social interactions so as to prevent such potentially embarrassing situations in the future.”

I nod twice and grin. That word pasta probably means what I think it means. If it does, maybe there’s hope for us, after all.

“I appreciate that.”

Judah stands up straight.

The man makes a dry, creaky sound that vaguely resembles laughter. Max frowns; Hannah wears a crooked smile.

Judah leans over me and looks up the table. “Do you know that man, Young Miss?”

I sigh. “No. I do not.”

I situate myself in my seat and put on my best public smile as the old man shuffles one spot closer.

I think I’ll try greeting this one with my left hand.