-Felicity-

“What would you have done if you’d been allowed to resign?” Cecil asked. 

He walked through the crowd as if fully expecting them to part for him. To my surprise, they did. Silence was a bubble around us. Our wake was ripples of "Did you see what she's wearing?" My aunt had ensured everyone knew which dress she’d wear at the ball. It was a matter of pride for her to set trends. She’d had the dressmaker put it on display for the purpose of making everyone else envious that they didn’t have the money to get something this nice. 

“Surely not a mercenary!” Cecil gasped. “That’s far beneath your talents.”

“It’s an honest life. I could have made my own guild and lived quite well.” Normally, there was an order to entering the ballroom, but Cecil and I walked past the line, paused in the doorway for the herald to announce Cecil's name and rank, then sputter over mine without actually saying who or what I was. It didn't matter. Everyone recognized me immediately. Someone dropped their glass. One of the orchestra members missed a note.

“My Lady,” Cecil said as he guided me down the stairs to the main floor as if nothing were different than usual. “Do you, perchance, know how to dance? I would like to at some point this evening.” He was exactly the partner I needed for this ridiculousness. His green eyes sparkled with his mischievous grin.

My eyes flicked toward the dance floor. As it was the start of the ball, there was music, but not for dancing. “I’ve seen how the steps go, and I trust you’re skilled in leading. I’ll give it a try,” I said.

He grinned. “And I trust that a swordsman of your talent would be light on their feet.”

I knew that people were listening to our conversation. We weren’t being quiet about it.

“Would you care for a drink?” Cecil offered.

My gaze flicked through the room, spotting Reid’s distinctive red hair. He stood next to his father, who stood next to my father. Duke Lyon’s jaw was on the floor. I grinned. “Yes. Though I’d like to speak with Duke Lyon, would you join me there?”

“Of course.” Cecil stepped back, drew my hand out, and bowed over it to kiss my fingers. 

I pretended to be entirely unaffected by his actions but felt my cheeks heat anyway. His dark eyes flicked through his silver lashes, and he smirked before releasing me to get our drinks.

Folding my hands in front of me, I turned to Lyon and strode over.

“What… is the meaning of this?” Lyon asked as soon as I arrived.

I curtsied to him. “Since you were so kind as to give me an inherited title, I decided it was no longer an option to continue hiding my gender. As you can see, Lady Caroline would’ve been very disappointed to be escorted by me.”

Lyon’s mouth moved as he tried to think of what to say but came up with nothing.

Duke Owen finally bent forward, howling with laughter. He nearly drowned out the music, drawing even more attention to the situation I’d put Duke Lyon in. I saw my father’s brow twitch.

“You could have told me,” he said, “instead of orchestrating a spectacle.” His gaze flicked down to the dress I wore.

“I wasn’t given much time to deal with the problem,” I said. “If I’d been allowed to resign, I wouldn’t have needed to expose myself like this.”

“And the dress?”

“It was the only one available on short notice. Unless you believe I should’ve worn rags to a royal ball in my honor.”

Reid’s face was as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh, tears visible in his eyes. His father had gone silent, having run out of breath.

No one was moving to save Lyon from the public humiliation I was dishing out.

“Is that the Marquessa's dress?” Lady Caroline asked as she stepped up behind me. “How shameful.”

I turned to face the woman and curtsied. “I had no idea,” I didn't bother making my tone believable. “It was an emergency, and no one had purchased it. I thought it would be a shame for it to never be worn.”

Caroline choked as she focused on my face. Felix stood beside her, pale as if he'd seen a ghost.

“I’m afraid I know nothing of fashion or High Society, so I didn’t realize it would be a problem.”

Her gaze focused on my cleavage, then back to my face. “You’re a woman?” she gasped.

“Yes. If I’d not been given an inherited title, I would’ve worn a suit and continued the charade. However, since I’m ill-equipped to have a wife, I decided now was the best time to clear things up.”

Cecil arrived then, slipping past the stunned and silent Felix to hand me a drink. “Did I keep you long? I got stopped by a couple of old friends and had to greet them.”

I smiled at him, taking the drink. My pettiest revenge was blossoming beautifully.

Caroline’s eyes lit up. She smiled. “Well, since you’re unfamiliar with High Society and you will be here for a while, please allow me to introduce you to a few people?”

“Of course,” I said cheerily.