“I have nothing to say in my defense.”

“Nothing?”

I rose to my feet, resting my arms behind my back so that she would not feel threatened. “I could spend the next several hours explaining to you how I fought against bringing Cécile to Trollus. How my father gave me no real choice in bonding her. How if I hadn’t, he’d have sooner killed her than let her go free. But all of that sounds rather hollow, doesn’t it? Because explanations cannot undo what was done. They cannot wash away the hurt that was caused to Cécile, to her family, to you – their only purpose is to help me cast aside all culpability, which would be cowardly behavior on my part.”

I paused, watching her expression. “There are no words I can offer that will earn your forgiveness, Sabine, but perhaps my actions going forward might prove my worth.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she slowly shook her head. “You are too perfect. In the way you look, in the things you say. It does not make me like you, and it certainly does not make me trust you.”

I lowered my head so that we were eye to eye. “If you think I’m perfect, then you’ve really not been paying attention.”

A knock sounded firmly on the door, and I gave Chris a pointed look.

“I’m already tired of this,” he muttered, but made his way over, stepping out into the corridor.

Sabine and I stood listening to him argue with whoever was in the hall. “He’s resting… Won’t appreciate you walking in on him… Just give the blasted things to me!” There was a kerfuffle, and a moment later, Chris came back into the room. “Nosy bastard,” he said. “Here.”

I took the stack of cards he proffered, opened them and flipped through the invitations. “They’re all for tonight, but I don’t know who any of these people are,” I said, frowning at the names.

“Because you’re oh-so-familiar with the inhabitants of Trianon?” Sabine asked sweetly.

“More so than you might think,” I said. “The important ones, at any rate.”

She rolled her eyes. “Read me the names.” I did so, watching as she shook her head or nodded at them. “None titled, but that’s to be expected given that you’re a relative nobody.”

Chris laughed around another cake. Between him and Souris, they were very nearly all gone.

“It isn’t as though the minor nobility won’t come calling,” she said. “But it’s rather early for them to show interest without looking desperate.”

“How does a girl from a small country village know all of these things?” I asked. I didn’t think she was lying, but I was curious why she spoke so confidently about a society of which she was not part.

“My parents own the only inn for miles, and people talk when they’re deep in their cups,” she said. “And I’ve been in Trianon for months now – none of this is secret, it’s free for the knowing to those who bother to listen.”