Web of Lies: Trueborn Heirs Series Book 2

by Nyna Queen

  Alex couldn’t help herself: if Stephane was a fierce lion and Darken a sleek panther, then Tyler was a skittish, pointy-faced ferret—twitchy and slightly awkward.

  As if to confirm her first impression, Tyler’s gaze swiveled from his sister-in-law to her and his jaw dropped to the floor. Although he was about her age, it made him look like an overgrown schoolboy.

  He blinked, clearly—and not very surprisingly—not recognizing Alex.

  “R-remember?” he stuttered. “N-no, I don’t think—”

  “We’re supposed to have played in the sandbox together when we were little.” Alex leaned forward and touched his arm, adding just the right level of embarrassment to her smile. “It’s probably for the best that you don’t remember.”

  Tyler woke from his slack-jawed stupor. “It is a shame, actually! Not to remember such a pretty lady …” He continued to gawk at her face as he grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on her fingertips. Alex allowed his lips to rest there for a ridiculously long five seconds before pulling away.

  Behind him, Darken was staring at his brother’s back with a close to murderous expression.

  Alex gritted her teeth. This had to stop. He couldn't run around, scowling at every male who so much as looked at her. He wasn’t her lover and he wasn’t her chaperon. If he didn’t want to be in her bed, fine! But he certainly didn’t get to chose who did. Much less who she flirted with. Even if said person was his own brother.

  Tyler seemed to be grasping for something else to say but Edalyne saved Alex by stepping in and taking her arm again.

  “You two can catch up later. Alexandre, I want to introduce you to some important people …”

  A short glance over her shoulder confirmed that Tyler was gazing after them as they walked away. He whispered something to Darken and pointed in their direction. Darken threw her a short, bored glance and shrugged, dismissing whatever his younger brother had said. Yes, yes, Mr. Indifferent!

  Well, she should be concentrating on what lay ahead of her, anyway.

  Between a cluster of bar tables, Stephane stood with three other men, gesticulating animatedly as he talked. Across from him, Alex recognized his main opponent, Alistair Devilier, from the pictures they had shown her during her preparation. The other faces were unknown to her.

  “Darling, look who just came in!”

  Stephane glanced up at the voice of his wife and beamed.

  “Alexandre!” He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “What a pleasure, sweetheart. Mother had told me that she had made arrangements for you to attend but I wasn’t sure you could actually make it, what with that country house and the funeral and everything.” He confidentially lowered his voice a little. “You know, if you ever need any kind of help, just say the word.”

  As if suddenly becoming aware of their more-than-interested audience, Stephane took a step back. “Alexandre, you have met Lord Ferhus, yes, no?” He pointed to an older man to his right with gray hair, mustache, and beard, whose beige doublet stretched a little over his mildly rounded middle.

  “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure,” Alex said.

  “Well, in that case,” Stephane held out his hand, “His Excellency, Governor Robert Thibault Artiomme Ferhus. The man I wish to succeed in his position after his retirement this year,” he added with a fierce grin.

  “Not if I can help it,” the man opposite of him cut in with good-natured humor.

  Senator Devilier looked around fifty and was completely and utterly unremarkable. The frameless spectacles on his nose were probably his most distinguishable feature. If he had been a color, he would have been mousy gray.

  Alex’s gaze unerringly fell down to his hands. He was wearing a simple gold wedding ring with a tiny oval diamond on his left hand.

  “Alistair Devilier-Valant,” he introduced himself with a small bow. “Senator of Peladore, at your service, milady. Stephane here honors me by being a very tough opponent.”

  That provoked amused chuckles from the audience.

  “Though you’re playing with marked cards, Dubois.” Senator Devilier shook a playful finger at Stephane. “But rest assured, bringing a beautiful lady into the game won’t help you win, my friend. Although,” he said with a wink at Alex, “if this is what we are to expect from your reign”—he indicated Alex’s body with exaggerated curves—“I do feel inclined to vote for you myself.”

  More laughter. Alex modeled her lips into a smile and even managed a decent blush.

  The only man left for Alex to meet had been smiling slightly sardonically while watching this whole exchange. Tall and stocky, he had short, black hair that was graying at the temples, a rugged face, and a scar slashing his chin. His white shirt beneath his black and silver suit jacket had such a sharp crease that Alex was surprised it didn’t draw blood on his neck.

  “Women,” he mused in a doleful voice. “They are men’s downfall. Mark my words.”

  “Why always so grim, Arlington?” Devilier chided cheerfully. “Loosen up a little, my friend.”

  “He is grim by nature,” Governor Ferhus said with a chuckle. “Must be a remnant from his days in the army. They didn’t allow for much fun back then, did they?”

  Mr. Grimface didn’t rise to the bait.

  That had to be Arlington Shinner, then, the governor of the Northern Provinces. Wow, there was quite a bit of power surrounding her. Except for the prime himself, Alex was facing Arcadia’s most high-ranking politicians. The reality of it made her a little dizzy.

  A slim, middle-aged woman in a voluminous sapphire gown squeezed in beside Stephane. “Gentlemen. Lady.”

  “Genevra.” Stephane winced. He wasn’t the only one who looked like he wanted to make a quick escape. She snatched his arm before he had the chance. “Stephane, you naughty man, you. You’ve been holding back. Who’s your ravishing companion?”

  From that point on it was a whirl of greetings and introductions, of kisses, curtsies, and empty platitudes, during which Alex was hugged, ogled, complimented and, occasionally, subtly threatened.

  Turning up the wattage of her smile, Alex allowed herself to be handed from one hand to the next, playing thrilled country girl breathing jewel-scented city air, while repeating the same lines over and over again: Yes, she was excited to be here. Oh yes, she was extremely grateful to the Dubois for providing her with this opportunity. No, she hadn’t met the prime yet … Seriously, it was getting old.

  The ballroom became even more crowded with people and the laughter grew louder as the drinks flowed more and more generously.

  Alex took a sip from the champagne flute that someone had deposited in her hand and forced herself to pay attention to the bunch of old ladies she’d been parked with last. Most of the time you could get away with a nod or grunt, but once in a while there would be a question and at that point, it paid to know the topic of the conversation.

  “… such a fine man, our prime,” the lady in blue was saying. “Really, a fine man.”

  Ugh, Prime Gerald. Haven’t heard mention of him today!

  Alex took another sip of her champagne and suppressed a grimace. Why everybody made such a fuss over this stuff was beyond her. She’d take an ale over champagne any day. Well, at least now, when she was old and gray she could truthfully say that she’d tasted champagne in her younger years—and that it wasn’t worth all the hype.

  “So true.” A thin lady in red nodded sagely, making all the heavy pearls in her hair and around her neck clatter together. “And who would have thought it at the time? I tell you, I wouldn’t. Such a wild boy. All that hunting … the weapons … that army business. Not at all like our dear, beloved Willem, bless his soul.” Appreciative murmurs. “But he really made himself, our Prime Gerald, yes he did.”

  She gave Alex a motherly smile. “Have you met him already, deary?”

  Well, Alex knew the answer to that question. “No, not in person. Only televised.”

  “So tonight will be your first time?” The old lady held
a hand to her chest. “How exciting!”

  Yeah, exciting as dead fish!

  “Maybe he will even have a moment to spare for you,” the crimson lady said. “Always makes time for the masses, our prime.”

  “Now, Stephane Dubois-Léclaire,” said another wizened woman in a silly tiara with a meaningful glance in Alex’s direction, “he’s a fine man, too.” There was another round of murmured agreement. “Would even vote for him myself, if it wasn’t for those shaper regulations.” She shook her head with a frown. “In times like these—”

  “It’s the youth,” the lady in blue interrupted earnestly. “They lack experience. Those young ones, they haven’t seen what we’ve seen. Still trying to see the good in everything. He’s of noble heart, no doubt, but, alas, not fit to defend our country from the dangers out there.”

  Dangers out there, my ass! Alex’s fingers tightened around her glass. She would bet every last thing she owned that if she asked how much personal experience any of these women had with shapers, the answer would be a resounding “none.”

  “True, true,” said the tiara-lady, “and after what happened in Manor Creek … Terrible, isn’t it, what’s happening these days? What’s the world coming to, I ask you?”

  The Manor Creek murders were, of course, gossip topic number one, closely followed by the Dubois-abduction; although everyone pretended not talking about it, at least when any of the Dubois family were close by. They were not as tight-lipped around Alex.

  “Not safe in our own homes anymore, are we?” the old woman went on. “These demonic creatures, they are everywhere nowadays.”

  Alex just couldn’t help herself. “Everywhere? You mean … you don’t think, one of them could possibly be inside the palace right now, do you?”

  The old ladies exchanged indulgent glances and chuckled.

  “Oh, don’t you worry yourself, dear,” Tiara said benignly and patted Alex’s hand where just beneath lay her hidden claws. “Those creatures, they may vaguely look like us, but they cannot hide their true nature in broad daylight. That’s why they prefer to hunt at night. And you can smell them from half a mile away. No, dear, we are completely safe here.”

  Oh, sugar, if you only knew.

  The champagne suddenly tasted stale in Alex’s mouth. “Would excuse me, ladies? I need to powder my nose.”

  “But of course, deary,” the lady in red briefly touched Alex’s cheek. “It was such a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  A skin-deep pleasure, for sure.

  Alex curtsied and quickly headed away. Only when she was out of their line of sight, did she slow down a little.

  Even here, in the very heart of the trueborn elite society, she couldn’t escape the taint of her birth for a while. Great. Thinking back on what Edalyne had told her in the coach on the way to the Saunier Estate, Alex felt as if the world was mocking her. Shapers would never be accepted by these people. Not in a million years.

  Trading her half-empty champagne glass for one of the delicacies on a servant’s salver, Alex moved on. The snacks were to keep them full until they had a late dinner in their rooms tonight.

  Mhm, some kind of dark meat. And what was that on top? Probably truffles or some comparably expensive hokum. Not bad, though.

  Under a huge, oblong mirror, Josy was standing within a cluster of girls her age, a gauzy dream in white and pale blue. In her weightless skirts of chiffon, it seemed as if she only needed to lift her arms in order to float away on invisible wings.

  The girls were glancing over to a group of meticulously groomed boys of around the same age, then stuck their heads together and giggled hysterically. The boys looked somewhere in between uncomfortable and hopeful.

  The fact that Josy had finally, though grudgingly, been allowed to attend the Summerball, had caused Max to throw a major temper tantrum, complaining that she was always allowed everything and he had to stay home—and how, in the Great Mother’s name, was that fair? Telling him that his sister was much older and that he probably wouldn’t enjoy himself at the ball anyway, didn’t help. It was only when Cook Beatha had offered to cook him his favorite meal and he had gotten permission to spend the evening watching televisum cinematica that he had been mollified enough to calm down. Nevertheless, he had made them promise to tell him “eeeverything” that happened, but “ooonly” the interesting parts.

  Truth be told, Alex secretly envied him being home right now.

  Josy spotted her and waved with a bright smile. Alex waved back. Immediately, Josy’s friends started whispering madly with her, looking over at Alex. Josy would be confirming her background and providing yet another angle to the Alexandre story. This was all Stephane and Edalyne were willing to allow her to contribute to their scheme.

  Snatching up a few more snacks, Alex ambled along, attempting to project an air of purpose, so that no one would feel inclined to stop her. If she had to talk to one more person within the next ten minutes, she would—

  “Lexy!”

  Alex almost bumped into Bonnie who swooped down on her with a wide grin on her round, freckled face.

  “Bonny.”

  “Oh, Alexandre, you look fantastic!” The other girl admired her dress. “I’d love to wear a dress like that sometime! It must have cost a fortune.”

  “A gift from the Dubois,” Alex told her truthfully.

  Bonny made big eyes. “They are so generous.”

  “Mhhm. Your dress is nice as well,” Alex said just to be able to say something. It wasn’t ugly or anything, it was just, well, a dress. Period.

  “Oh, you think?” Bonny frowned as she pinched the dark blue fabric of her collar. “I had to borrow it from my brother’s wife and she’s, well, you know, a little less … busty than I am. We added some lacing in the back, but it is … phew …” She fanned herself with a slightly tortured expression on her face. Her voice dropped. “Should I faint, just make sure to open the lacing a little and I should come around in no time.” She let out a weak chuckle. Then, without forewarning, she grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled her along with her. Great, and she was being herded again. Two weeks ago, anyone who touched Alex like this without permission would have lost their hand. And now she actually had to act enthusiastic about it. The old ladies had been right … What was the world coming to?

  Bonny towed Alex through the room, babbling away as she led her over to the group of young women of age Alex had spotted earlier. The group had grown since Alex’s arrival but Cecile was still at the center of it. Alex also recognized doe-eyed Sharon among them. She would have loved nothing more than to avoid them for the whole evening.

  “Ladies!” Bonny stopped right in front of them with a wide smile. “I’m sure some of you remember Alexandre de Nuy?” She leaned in a little, as if she was about to tell exceptionally weighty news. “She’s a protégée of Lady Dubois senior.”

  “How could I forget?” Cecile muttered under her breath before her heavily painted lips—red, just like her tight seductress dress—split into a narrow smile. “Well, well, if that isn’t our little country girl.” She put one hand on her hip. “How are the cows and sheep out there?”

  “Oh, you know,” Alex replied sweetly, “they’re bleating here as there.”

  A steep crease formed between Cecile’s eyebrows. Not sure if that was a pun, huh? Oh, well, that’s fine, sugar. Take your time.

  Surprisingly, several of the women in the group seemed to be genuinely interested in Alex’s newcomer status and her connection to the Dubois. After a few moments, a flock of them had gathered around her and Bonny and they were peppered with questions.

  Cecile sniffed audibly and turned back to her own fan club.

  Luckily, Alex could let Bonny do most of the talking—that mouth seemed utterly unable to stop—and instead, she could concentrate on listening. Which was more her thing. And also way more entertaining. Especially when she was the subject.

  “Bit old for a debutante, isn’t she?” a young woman in a canary yellow
halter-neck dress asked in a hushed tone.

  Cecile smirked, plucking some lint from her corsage. “Oh, she’s a debutante, alright. Raw as a rough-hewn stone. And just as crude. No means and no taste. I mean, did you see that dress? So last year!”

  “Well, I think it’s a most magnificent dress,” a blond girl in a dusky pink gown chimed in. “And silver is en vogue, didn’t you say that before?”

  Another girl nodded. “Yes. And I remember there was a picture of the prima wearing a silver dress in the Fashion Flare only last week.”

  Cecile looked quite furious. “Whatever.”

  Alex hid a grin behind the fresh glass of champagne she’d been saddled with within seconds of her arrival.

  At this moment, Darken glided past the group, attracting the attention like a glowing hot magnet. Their eyes met for a split second and Alex felt that almost irresistible pull. She glanced down into her glass, hoping that nobody had noticed. But for once, no one was paying any attention to her.

  “Brrr.” One of the women, wearing a sunset-colored gown, shuddered theatrically. “That one of them is actually allowed to walk around here just like that …”

  Them, huh? Alex raised an eyebrow. That sounded a lot like the way people talked about her own kind.

  “Oh, the Dubois always get special treatment, don’t they?” Cecile sneered with a resentful glance in Alex’s direction, before looking back at Darken. “Personally, I think they should put him on a leash. For all our safety. They are devils when they get going, everyone knows that. And they say he is a particularly nasty piece of work.” Cecile shook her head. “I don’t know what they are thinking. After all, there are children here.”

  As if Darken was a rabid dog! Alex tugged at her hair to keep herself from reaching for the little bitch’s neck and ended up with one of her hairpins in her hand. She furiously rubbed it between her fingers.