The marriageable girls were all either dancing or trying to look occupied. They looked delightful in the ruffles and silks, and perhaps here was the answer: The fashions were designed to sell a commodity, and this was the particular commodity in mind. Keylinn balanced her plate in one hand and looked around to see if there was anyone she knew. In fact, there was. Lord Cardinal Amo had just come in with several Opal hangers-on.
She faded back into the crowd.
This was not auspicious. Even at his wedding ball people tried to pull Adrian off and talk to him about things they wanted. Iolanthe found herself deserted several times, though always with an apologetic smile, and always when Prudence or Brandon Fischer was there to entertain her.
Not that Fischer’s stiff remarks did much in that area. She sent him off to get her another glass of wine and sat for a moment beside Prudence.
“That was quite a wedding kiss,” said Prudence, whose predictably sky-blue gown was predictably magnificent.
Io blushed. Her head had cleared somewhat since the afternoon, though she was wondering now if the wine was a good idea. Still, two glasses wasn’t much, and she was bored ... when she wasn’t worried about tonight. “It seemed a good idea at the time,” she said.
“Oh, it would seem like a fine idea anytime to me,” said Prudence. “I wasn’t criticizing. I always thought Adrian was cute as a new puppy.”
“Really?” said Io, and hearing the surprise in her voice she hastened to cancel it. “I didn’t think anybody—else felt that way.”
Prudence had had five glasses, but then she knew she could handle it. “Oh, definitely. I always thought he had the most charming little butt-end—”
“You, too?” said Io. They both started to laugh. Io stole an abandoned wineglass from a nearby table and emptied it. “Speaking of which, do you know who else is good in that area?”
“The Opal delegate? Quince?”
Io shook her head. “Too pretty. Will Stockton.”
“Oh, yes!” They both went off into peals of merriment again. Brandon Fischer approached them with Iolanthe’s wineglass.
“Something amusing, my ladies?” he inquired.
“Nothing. Really.” Io made an effort to compose her lips to seriousness. Fischer shrugged and handed her her glass. Then he sat down in a chair beside them, pausing to straighten the creases in his dress trousers as he did so. For some reason this threatened to break Io down into laughter again; she caught Prudence’s eye watching Fischer and knew the same thought was going through her mind. A soft giggle exploded from her throat, and she quickly coughed to cover it.
“Not feeling well?” said Fischer.
“Just a tickle in my throat.” She changed the subject hastily. “Isn’t that your sister, Prudence? The one you pointed out earlier?”
Prudence peered out over the crowd. “By heaven, I think you’re right. She’s dancing with Harry Muir. Good for her.”
Prudence’s sister was on the plain side, and had had a tiff with the gentleman everyone was working to get her engaged to. “Carmichael’s one of Harry’s buddies; maybe the competition will wake him up.” She sipped her wine thoughtfully. “Not that I really want her involved with Harry’s crowd; they’re a little wild.”
“It’s just a dance, Pru.”
“Yes, I sound like somebody’s mother, don’t I? I’ll have them married before the set is through.”
Io grinned, then said, “Look, it’s Will! I thought he wasn’t coming.”
Will Stockton had just spotted them down the length of the room. He was wearing a silk shirt with his uniform breeches and his best dress jacket; the stupid red sash, thank God, was optional for the ball. His only other set of good clothes had gotten somewhat rumpled earlier that day in Helium Park.
He approached Iolanthe at once and bowed. “Congratulations.” He looked around then, and said, “I hope you’re in good hands.”
She knew he meant bodyguard hands, not Adrian’s. She smiled and tilted her head toward the wall. ‘That over-large gentleman standing under the garlands.”
“He might be a little closer. Not that I mean to criticize.”
“No offense taken. I’ll have to decide whether to forgive you, though, for being late.”
He put his head down, and she said at once, “I’m only teasing you, Will. And you’re not the only one. Pru just pointed out to me a few minutes ago that nobody’s seen Hartley Quince, either.”
“I don’t think he’s coming,” said Will. “He wasn’t feeling well earlier today.”
Prudence said, “That’s a shame. That he’ll miss the ball, I mean.”
“You’re not looking too well yourself, Will. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Thanks, but I’m just tired. Wine would put me to sleep.”
“Coffee, then.” She gestured to an urn nearby with cups set out beside it.
“No, thank you. I’ll take tea if there is any.”
“If it’s in the hall,” said Io, “we’ll find it for you. Brandon? Do you know if there’s tea about?”
Brandon Fischer sighed and got up. First Adviser of the Diamond, and it had come to this so soon—running minor errands for a seventeen-year-old girl, for the ultimate benefit of a young man with rank so low Fischer didn’t even know what level it was. Still, one couldn’t refuse a bride on her wedding day.
“Allow me to search,” he said with disciplined gallantry, and he bowed.
Tal had found Keylinn in the crowd and they stood now watching the swirl of dancers.
“You’re wearing blue lenses today,” said Keylinn. “Did you think it was more aesthetically proper?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“Well, for you that’s quite a concession to friendship.”
“It was a concession to social propriety.”
“Which would rebound to Adrian’s benefit. Iolanthe looks like she’s having a good time, doesn’t she? She looks happier in Adrian’s absence than his presence.”
“Whereas Adrian looks the opposite.” Tal turned to where Adrian was surrounded by three
