4 A Formidable Opponent

"Katie, why are you crying?" Adele asked with a quivering lip. "Don't cry!" She held out a cookie to me as we sat in her nursery having tea.

I hastily wiped my tears. I couldn't afford to be melancholy here. My identity as Catherine du Pont had to remain intact.

Little slips in my true character—like insisting Adele call me Katie instead of Cathy, like she had been before—were all I could allow.

I gave her a watery smile. "How could I cry when I have a sweet little sister like you?"

She beamed at me with her gap-toothed grin. As a seven-year-old, she was missing nearly half her teeth.

"I love you, Katie!"

I scooped her into a hug, craving sisterly affection. Just with a different sister. "I love you too, Addie."

A knock sounded on the door and Percival popped his head in. "Edmund is here visiting with his schoolmate, the Duke of Orla. Mother and Father are requesting your presence."

Adele scrambled to her feet. "Eddie is home?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes, but since the duke is here you must stay in the nursery for now."

Her expression crumbled. "Percy, I want to see Eddie!" Now Adele was on the verge of tears.

He hoisted her up and tapped her on the noise. "Be good. Edmund wants to see you too but you know you're too young to appear before the rest of the gentry. Catherine is only able to come because she's about to debut in society."

That's right. My debut. My soul had been transplanted into the body of a fifteen-year-old and here they debuted at sixteen. Catherine's birthday was less than three months away. I absolutely dreaded it.

Percival…he'd make sure I didn't get married off to some creepy old guy, right? We'd developed camaraderie since I'd been here. He was on my side, right??

I tried my best to push the matter out of my mind.

"I'll make sure to sneak you to see Eddie once the duke has retired to his quarters," I promised the little girl, who nodded cheerfully enough before sliding down her brother and resuming her position at the child-sized table.

Percival shook his head at me as we walked out the door. "I have no idea how you handle her so well."

I shrugged. "Simple. We're both female."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "If only I understood the female mind as well as you. Every lady I meet is only interested in my future title and seems to have nothing in her brain but feathers."

I wanted to get mad at him for being sexist but I'd met the girls here. He had a point. There was hardly an original thought among them.

I patted his arm. "There has to be some girls out there who are intellectually minded. There's more to this world than the earldom, you know. Why don't you come with me to the capital when I debut? Your pool of choices would be expanded."

Percival bit his lip. "I…am not fond of the capital. The politics there…you wouldn't understand."

I wanted to stick my tongue out at him. I may not know the politics of Annalaias that well but I did hold a political science degree. That had to count for something.

"You need to get used to it, Percy. You are a member of the nobility. Father spends at least two months out of the year convening with other nobles and the king in the capital. That will be your job someday. Besides…"

I played the cute little sister card, selfishly wanting his protection from the wolves. I batted my eyelashes and put on an adorable pout.

"It won't be any fun if you don't come. Please? For me?"

His ears turned red and he looked away. "I'll consider it." Which in Percy-speak meant yes.

I clapped my hands in delight. "Thank you, Percy!"

"Come now, our guest is waiting for us."

Everyone was convened in the drawing room off the grand entry room and since it was visible from the doorway, Percival and I descended the spiral stairs as I primly held onto his arm.

We entered the drawing room together as a servant announced us. "The future earl, Percival Igneel du Pont, and the Lady Catherine Arabella du Pont."

All stood as we entered. The countess looked as disinterested in everything as usual (it was the fashionable thing to do), the earl looked stern, and the two young men looked on with interest.

The blonde one with green eyes and freckles grinned at me and winked. That must be Edmund. He's nearly two years older than Catherine and they are supposedly quite close.

I raised my eyebrows at him in response since it seemed like something the original Catherine would do.

No one else noticed but the duke did and his brow furrowed at me. He fit the tall, dark, and handsome trope perfectly. Charles Magne Lancaster, the Duke of Orla.

This guy actually IS in the novel. He's in league with the crown prince, Sigmund, and therefore works against Marcy and Alpheus. His father died when he was three years old, making him the youngest duke in Annalaias history.

"Your Grace, it's an honor to meet you," I said with a very proper curtsy after Percival had already finished his greetings.

He smirked and kissed my hand. "The honor is mine, my lady."

We all sat back down and the countess directed a maid to begin serving the tea. Ugh. So much tea. I'd just had some upstairs! At least the cream cakes down here were different than the hard cookies in the nursery.

My least favorite part of living here—the small talk—commenced. Don't get me wrong, the occasional wordplay with fussy ladies could be entertaining to a point but when men were present…women weren't supposed to speak unless spoken to directly so I had to just sit there and imitate the countess' mannerisms.

If left to my own devices, I'd end up stuffing my face just to have something to do but that wasn't ladylike. I'd been scolded more than once while I was learning.

"I understand you're in your last year of school, Your Grace," the earl said conversationally.

The duke nodded. "Yes, I'll be finished in the spring so I can take over the duties the steward has been helping me with full-time."

How boring. I studied this guy intently. Other than when he squinted at me for pulling a slight face at my brother and smirked at our introduction, his face has been completely blank.

Does he actually have a personality under there? Why is Edmund—who is apparently as mischievous and fun-loving as Catherine—friends with this guy?

I had to think about whether or not the duke had much of a personality in the novel. He was occasionally depicted at the right hand of the prince but he didn't speak all that much.

All I know is that he's supposed to be a skilled strategist. Alpheus and Marcy had a hard time working against him. So he's a formidable opponent but not much of a conversationalist. Hmm.