And, fool that I was, I hastened after her, cutting through the crowd to close off her retreat. When she realized she could not escape me, she slowed. I closed the remaining distance between us. “Carsina. I’ve been hoping to have a dance with you. And a chance to speak to you, and explain what has befallen me.” It was my misfortune that the musicians suddenly struck up a lively tune rather than the stately waltz I had hoped for. Carsina saved herself and me by saying stiffly, “I am weary of dancing at present. Perhaps later.”

“But perhaps we could talk now. Shall we walk in the garden?”

“I fear it would not be proper, for we should be unchaperoned.”

My smile at her comment was bitter. “That did not stop us the last time.”

She looked away from me and gave a vexed sigh. “That was last time, Nevare. Obviously, much has changed.”

Stung, I replied, “What has not changed is that we are promised to one another. Surely you owe me at least the opportunity to tell you what I’ve been through—”

“I owe you nothing, sir!” she flared at me. Her companion from the last dance suddenly reappeared, carrying two glasses of wine. His eyes widened with disapproval that I had forced a lady to give me such a stern response. I warned him off with a glare. “The lady and I are having a conversation.” He was a head shorter than me, but probably thought my weight made me soft. “It did not sound like a conversation to me. It sounded as if she wished you to leave her alone.”

“We are promised to one another. I have the right to—”

“Not formally!” Carsina cut in quickly. “And I do wish you to leave me alone.”

“You see, sir, the lady has wearied of your company. Be a gentleman, and allow her to withdraw.” He stepped bravely between us. He was all long neck and freckled nose. I could have snapped him like a twig. I looked over his head at Carsina.

“Perhaps she should be a lady and do me the courtesy of hearing me out,”

I said levelly.

“Do you insinuate I am not a lady?” Carsina flared at me. “Nevare Burvelle, you insult me. I shall tell my father of this!”

Anger sang in my blood and rang in my ears. I seethed with fury. Words burst from me, coming from whence I knew not. “And you have ignored me, fled from me, and thus insulted me thrice today, and this shall be the last time. There will come a time before you die, Carsina, when you will crawl on your knees and beg pardon for how you have treated me this day.”

Her mouth fell open at my harsh words. She looked, in her astonishment, both childish and common. All the prettiness fled from her face as anger flooded it. I’d said too much, spoken too rashly. I could not have done a more awkward, awful thing at my brother’s wedding.