Work Text:
Kaz Rietveld
The list of things that Kaz hated was a long one. It included cold tea, rainy weather, narrow stairs, crying babies, laziness, etc. However, the first place on this list belonged to-
"Social season, here we come!" Jordie said cheerfully, entering the office. Kaz looked at his older brother over the documents he was checking and shook his head with distaste. Jordie’s grin grew even wider.
"Excited as always, I see."
Kaz didn’t bother to answer and returned to reading the papers before him. Even finances and tax reports were more interesting to him than the upcoming season. His brother, on the other hand, seemed unusually thrilled.
"Oh, come on Kaz." Jordie sat down on a chair, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "This year we can have some real fun, with our debts almost paid off and our name back in the ton."
Kaz raised an eyebrow. "And whose credit is that?"
"Of course yours, my brilliant, cunning little brother." Jordie laughed, leaning back in his chair. "But I did my part, didn’t I?"
Kaz couldn’t help but smile a bit. Yes, restoring the splendor of their family name, paying off the debts incurred by their late father, renovating the estate, and boosting the business was all his doing over the last years. Even though Jordie was the older brother, leaving the estate in his hands would end up not only not paying off old debts but also incurring new ones. He had no head for business. Given that, it was Kaz who took it upon himself to rebuild their image after the death of their father. He had been rebuilding their status over the years, brick by brick, showing exceptional determination and ruthlessness. This approach did not win him many friends, but he gained many business partners and built up around himself the aura of a person best not messed with. Kaz's job was to take care of the finances. Jordie's was restoring their social status. He had been one of the ton’s favorites after all.
They were both tall and slender, with dark eyes and hair, although Jordie preferred a longer cut, letting his hair curl at the nape of his neck and Kaz combed his hair smoothly to back. But where Kaz was sharp and rough, Jordie was soft and pleasing to the eye. He smiled often, showing dimples on his cheeks, laughed loudly, and carried himself with nonchalant confidence. He was charming and clever. He had mastered to perfection the art of half-words, compliments, and sweet lies, with which he always got what he wanted. Women loved him, men wanted to be friends with him, mothers blushed in his presence and fathers invited him for whisky and cigars. He made up for his small fortune with a great personality and even bigger ambition. Yes, the Rietveld brothers made a close-knit duo and were keen to exploit this.
"That’s why I am saying we deserve to enjoy ourselves this year," Jordie continued. "Attend some balls-"
"I don’t dance." Kaz cut him off.
"Take part in hunting."
"I don’t like the woods."
"Enjoy evenings at the gentlemen’s club."
"They don’t allow me to play cards anymore, remember?"
Jordie let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms. "You’re no fun, you know that?"
Kaz smirked and gestured at the documents in front of him. "This is my fun."
His brother rolled his eyes and Kaz laughed again. He could be joking about the upcoming season all he wanted, but in the end, Kaz knew full well that he couldn’t escape attending some events anyway. Not appearing at the salons would mean weakening his relationship with the nobility, and he couldn't afford that, not after so many years of hard work to be where they were now.
He sighed, closed the account books, and reached for his cane resting next to the chair. He stood up, ignoring the slight cramp in his leg caused by hours spent sitting at the desk.
"The first ball takes place this Friday, right?"
Jordie sent him one of his best smiles and rose to his feet. He walked to him and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "We’re gonna have so much fun, brother!"
"Yeah, splendid."
***
Nina Zenik
Nina was awfully late. On the run, she was mending the sash at the waist of her dress and pinning up the strands of hair sticking out of her bun. "Damn it," she cursed at her tardiness, running down the stairs. The morning ride took her way too long. She had ventured too far, lost track of time, and now she had her due. Thanks to the Saints, she returned to the mansion unnoticed and still managed to change into a clean dress. Nina considered this her small success of the day. Finally, she stood in front of the lounge door. She took a few deep breaths to calm her rumbling heart, put a polite smile on her face, and opened the door, stepping into the room.
"Please forgive my tardiness, dear ladies," she said with a curtsey. Even with her head lowered, she felt Zoya's heavy gaze on her. She would definitely not escape reprimand from her later.
"How kind of you to honor us with your presence." Zoya's voice might have sounded as sweet as honey to the untrained ear, but Nina knew better. Beneath the sweetness were thunder and lightning. Ah, that meant Lady Berbrook had already gotten under her skin.
"But dear Mrs. Zenik, it's all right. We were just discussing with Lady Nazyalensky what charity we should support this year, isn't that right, Lady Edwards?"
"That's correct. We proposed asylum at the Church of Saint Hilde, but Lady Nazyalensky doesn't seem convinced."
"I just think we could change the direction of our assistance a bit. My late aunt's wish was to help those most in need. And as far as I know, the asylum has a loyal following of donors."
"Maybe an orphanage, then."
All the women looked in her direction, and Nina had to hide a smile of satisfaction behind her cup of tea. The two older ladies didn't know where to place their eyes, and Zoya barely perceptibly raised her eyebrow.
Nina's origins were one of the 'taboos' among the London ton. After all, Nina Zenik was the illegitimate child of a Russian aristocrat. She grew up in an orphanage in a small Russian town without knowing her parents. When she was ten years old, she was found by Liliyana Garin. The wife of the Russian ambassador in London and, as it turned out, her father's cousin. Liliyana took her with her to London and became her legal guardian. Then Nina met Zoya, Liliyana's niece, who had been in England for quite some time. Both girls received an education and upbringing worthy of noblewomen. And even more, because they learned to ride horses flaunt, and shoot guns. Although none of them were high-ranking noblewomen by birth, the supremacy of Liliyana and her husband allowed them to maintain their position in ton, and most of the nobility preferred to maintain good relations with them.
"I actually quite like the idea," Zoya said, her back straight, chin up, and eyes cold as steel when she addressed the other ladies. Nina loved when Zoya did that. She looked like a queen in that moments.
"Ekhm, yes. A great idea Miss Zenik, indeed. We'll bring the proposal to the next meeting of the club. But what is it? Look, Lady Berbrooke, what a late hour! We should get going. We don't want to abuse the hospitality of these ladies."
The women began to gather to leave, donning their hats and gloves. Nina and Zoya got up to say goodbye to them.
"I hope to see you at the ball on Friday, Lady Edwards, Lady Berbrooke?" Nina asked in a sweet voice.
"Naturally. By the way, Miss Zenik. My son has been asking about you. He is counting on you to honour him with a dance."
Nina smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. "Please let Lord Thomas know I would be delighted to book a dance for him, Lady Edwards."
As soon as the women were out of sight, Nina sank back into her chair with a loud sigh and reached for a cookie, biting into it with relish.
"Thomas Edwards can dream of dancing with me. That boy has a nasty habit of spitting at every sentence and is forever smelling of cigars."
"And you have crumbs on your cleavage," Zoya rebuked her.
Nina shrugged nonchalantly and took another biscuit. Zoya also sat down and sipped her tea, giving Nina time to prepare for the upcoming conversation and to make a mental list of excuses and justifications she could use.
"I met a new ambassador." Nina wasn’t expected that. "His name is Nikolai Lantsov," continued Zoya. "A little too arrogant and self-confident for my taste. But he seems well prepared for the role, has good manners, and... he’s quite good-looking, I will admit."
Nina raised an eyebrow. "And you're telling me that, because?"
"You could dance with him instead of Baron Edwards”.
"Zoya!" exclaimed Nina, almost choking on her cookie. "I will not seduce the new ambassador!"
"And why not?" Zoya also raised her voice. "You flirt with everyone!"
"For my own amusement and pleasure. Not to snare a husband!"
"Well, maybe you should," Zoya’s eyes shot lightning, and despite herself, Nina felt that she hunched her shoulders. "Marriage will give you security and stability that I can't give you. I hate it, but that’s how it is."
"I think we're doing pretty well," Nina mumbled.
"But how much longer?" Zoya's voice cracked slightly, but she quickly turned her head away and clenched her jaw.
When the ambassador died, Liliyana lost most of her wealth. They had enough left to live comfortably and maintain their status. But two years ago, Liliyana died suddenly, overcome by a strange illness that took her like a shadow. Zoya then became one of the youngest independent ladies at court, inheriting all her uncle's wealth, which turned out to be greater than they thought. And that was about it for the here and now - two young women trying not to be lost at the English court.
Zoya regained her calm and spoke with her normal voice. "I need you to be safe, Nina."
Nina looked at her friend. "I understand all that, Zoya. But I'm not going to get married just because I should! It's my life and I will decide for myself. I don’t want to be safe, I want to be happy! If you care so much, why don't you go find a husband yourself?"
Nina knew she had pulled the string the moment the last word left her lips. And she almost regretted it. Almost. If only Zoya got mad, yelled at her, stamped her foot, or something. But no, Zoya just put down her cup and left the room without even glancing at Nina.
Nina sighed heavily. It seems we’re having an eventful season this year, she thought and reached for another biscuit.
***
Matthias Helvar
Matthias did not like England. London especially. It was a grey, bleak, and damp city. He had not seen a cloudless sky for three days. And he arrived here four days ago! Djel, how he longed to see the blue Norwegian sky, green fields, or cliffs-
"Matthias, are you listening to me?"
He turned away from the window and focused on the man in the room. "Forgive me, sir. I was lost in thought."
The man raised an eyebrow and Matthias held back the reflex to bow his head humbly. Instead, he straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back. General Jarl Brum was not only his commander but also his legal guardian. When Matthias' parents died, Brum and his wife took custody of Matthias and his younger sister, raising them and offering them a home. Throughout his life, Matthias tried to repay them for this, to become someone they wouldn't have to be ashamed of. Maybe even be proud of. He became an officer, had a decent education, impeccable manners, and sincere faith. And now he was about to fulfil his next duty.
"As I said," Brum continued, "I expect the best behaviour from you. You represent not only my name but our entire country. Admittedly, the English have deplorable manners anyway, so you should have no problem impressing the ton. Even you, my dear Hanne."
"Yes, Papa."
Matthias glanced at the girl sitting on the couch. Hanne Brum was the only child of his mentor. A year older than Matthias himself, she was a beautiful, strong, and wise young woman. Matthias considered her his second sister and knew that these feelings were mutual. For the last few years, Hanne had been studying in a convent, but last summer, she returned to the Norwegian court and became engaged to the heir to the throne at the end of the season. Unfortunately, the engagement was broken off. Officially due to the prince's deteriorating health. Unofficially... It was not Matthias' place to ask, let alone listen to the prevailing gossip. What mattered was that now they were here, in London, and both would be looking for spouses.
"We will be part of this farce they call a season here, and I hope we will all be beneficial at the end of it."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, Papa."
"Good." Brum looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with some viscount or earl now, so you can have dinner without me. I don't know when I'll be back, these men can talk for hours before they get to the point. Matthias, look after my daughter in my absence."
"Of course, sir. As always."
As soon as Jarl Brum left the salon, Hanne visibly relaxed and sent Matthias a friendly smile. She patted the seat beside her and the boy gladly accepted the invitation. They both sighed at the same time and started chuckling.
"No pressure then," said Hanne.
"You have nothing to worry about. You are the daughter of a Norwegian general you certainly won't complain about a lack of suitors."
Hanne looked at him with a puzzled expression on her face. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something but changed her mind. She turned away and lowered her gaze to her hands. They sat in silence for a while. It was Matthias who eventually spoke up.
"I know you're nervous. We are in a foreign country, among strange people you don't know and who don't know you. But Hanne-" Matthias took her hand gently, forcing her to look at him- "Only a fool will not see how wonderful you are. Kind and caring and strong. And, you ride a horse better than half my regiment, and who wouldn't want such a wife?"
The last sentence finally brought a smile to his friend's face. "That compliment I'll take," she agreed with a gleam in her eye. "What about you?" she asked suddenly.
"What about me?"
"Would you like a wife like that?"
Matthias froze, blinking intensely. "I-" - he stammered.
"After all, we're not here just because of me." Hanne tilted her head, looking at him intensely.
"I'm doing what's expected of me. Getting married is one of those things and-"
"Ugh!" Hanne rolled her eyes and poked him painfully in the chest with her finger. "We're not talking about duties now, Matthias. We're talking about affection and a girl you could fall in love with!"
This knocked him off his guard even more, and Hanne seemed to have read it on his face. She sighed quietly and leaned back against the couch. "Before we left," she began in a soft and warm voice. "Your sister asked me to make sure that the girl you choose would be nice and pretty and that she would make you laugh. That she will take care of you because you never do that yourself. You always think of others first, their needs and expectations." She looked at him with a gaze that was firm but filled with care. "And what would you want, Matthias? Truly, what do you dream of?"
Matthias let the words flow over him. And he realized he didn't know. He looked towards the window as if the answer was there. And at the same time, the sky cleared, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. He smiled half-heartedly to himself. "I guess I'll have to find out."
***
Wylan Van Eck
Wylan often felt out of place. At social events, meetings, dinners, and sometimes at his lessons and lectures. Not that he didn't try to fit in, though. At first, he thought it was because of his lack of experience. But he was always polite. He tried to hold conversations, ask questions and listen. However, this never led to anything more, no friendships or deeper relationships. His peers were mainly interested in pastimes such as cards, fencing, horses, and women. Even if the topics descended into music or art, it was only for a moment, leaving Wylan with unfinished thoughts that he did not manage to share for fear of boring his colleagues. So instead, he was bored himself. It was a bit better at the University, where he had the opportunity to develop and discuss his interests. But again, most students saw studying as a duty and were returning to their typical entertainment and hobbies as soon as classes ended.
But the most uncomfortable place for Wylan, where he never knew how to act, talk or behave was his own house.
"Purple or pink?" Alys stared at him from the opposite side of the table, clearly anticipating an answer and Wylan realized that the question was directed at him. "Sorry, you were saying?"
"The flowers! Oh, I really need this party to be perfect. I cannot afford any mistakes, including inappropriate flowers. And you’re not very helpful, both of you! But especially, you my Lord." Alys pouted at Wylan’s father, who didn’t bother to answer her, so Alys addressed Wylan again. "What do you think then, Wylan, purple or pink?"
"Em-" The closer it got to Friday, the more nervous Alys became. She had been planning this ball since New Year’s. And in the previous week alone, she had already managed to change the line-up of musicians, buy a new set of crystal glasses and change the carpets from red ones to cream.
"Purple ones will look nice with cream decor, so I would choose those," he said, imagining the ballroom with its crystal chandelier, pale marble with pink and brown veins on the floor and silk yellow-cream wallpaper flocked with gold laurel on the walls. "And if you want, you can order bouquets of pink and purple tulips with some green leaves and place them all around the house as additional decorations," Wylan suggested.
Alys looked at him with delight in her eyes and clapped her hands. "Oh, you’re a genius, Wylan! That’s a brilliant idea!"
His father snorted, continuing to read his newspaper. Wylan felt himself blush. He didn't know whether from shame or anger. When it came to the feelings he had for his father, two sides were fighting within him. The hope that Jan Van Eck cared about him in his particular way and the bitter realization that his father was utterly uninterested in him. Despised him, even. And the older he got, the more often he realized the unpleasant truth of their relationship.
Yes, he grew up in a mansion surrounded by servants. His father provided him with teachers who ensured his all-around knowledge. He knew mathematics and chemistry and botany. He could paint, and he played the flute and piano. He used to travel and meet people. Used to, because there was one thing that crossed him in his father's eyes. His inability to read and write. His father made it clear that this was the reason for his greatest shame. For this reason, he kept any of Wylan's social interactions to an absolute minimum. The fact that last year he allowed Wylan to attend lectures at the University was a miracle. The same went for Wylan's participation in events during the social season. His father would only take him to those where attendance of them both was mandatory. The appearance of Alys in their house improved Wylan's situation somewhat. It was still far from ideal, but at least bearable. He could go out on his own now, and he used this privilege as much as he could.
"Actually, there is one thing we need to discuss Wylan," his father addressed him, putting down the newspaper. "The Courtship."
Wylan felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over him. "What-what do you mean by that, sir?"
Jan Van Eck sent him a scornful look. "Your marriage, what else."
Wylan thought he was going to pass out. He reached for a glass of water and drank in small sips, trying to calm his rumbling heart. Alys on the other hand, seemed to be delighted. "Oh, that’s wonderful!" she bubbled, unaware of the tension between her husband and stepson.
Finally, Wylan dared to look at his father. "I assumed I would be thinking about marriage when I graduated."
"I don't see the need for it," his father's voice was rough and firm, "As far as I can tell, your knowledge already goes beyond a standard level of education. But who knows, maybe your future... husband will let you continue your studies. I am saying husband because I take you still refuse a relationship with a woman."
Wylan felt a hot blush flush his cheeks again. He hid his hands under the table and clenched them into fists, trying to control their trembling. It wasn't the marriage that scared him, but the fact that his father would be the one to choose his life partner. He had been naïve to think otherwise, that he'd have the chance to marry for love. To fall in love in the first place. But of course, his father wanted to control that part of his life too.
"I believe I am perfectly capable of finding a partner by myself, sir," he spoke again. "Is courtship really necessary?"
"But Wylan," interjected Alys. "Receiving suitors is such a pleasant experience. All those compliments and gifts and flirting," she giggled. "You'll certainly enjoy it!"
" Besides, I don't see any other way." Wylan felt his whole body tense up under his father's gaze. "Did you think you'd be the one courting someone?"
Wylan lowered his head. Tears of rage and embarrassment gathered under his eyelids. "No, Father."
Jan Van Eck smiled at the corner of his mouth, which was more like a grimace of disgust. "That’s what I thought. We’ll start welcoming suitors on Sunday."
Alys beamed almost jumping in her chair. "Oh, I have a feeling it will be a wonderful season!"
***
Jesper Fahey
Jesper didn't expect his evening at the club to end with him crawling out of the bedroom window at five in the morning. Well, maybe he did expect it a little. When one drink turned into two and then four, and when one hand of cards turned into five, he knew he wouldn't be going home any time soon. And when the lovely blonde, whom he recognized as an actress from a new Cabaret, sat on his lap, he already knew where he would spend the night. And that is how he found himself in his current situation. Hanging from the parapet on the first floor, thanking the saints for his long legs, he hooked his boots into the trellis for the ivy covering the building and started to make his way down. He dropped softly to the ground and shrugged off his jacket. He was pleased to find that he had managed not to get it dirty. Good, because it had cost him a small fortune. He adjusted the cylinder on his head and looked towards the bedroom window he had just left. He spotted a bare shoulder and long blonde locks, which disappeared from his eyes a second later. Jesper smiled and sent the girl a kiss. He quietly walked to the wicket at the back of the garden, trying not to make any noise on the gravel path.
"Which of my girls will be heartbroken now, Mr Fahey?"
Jesper turned around and saw Poppy, sitting on a bench under a tree. She was dressed in a dressing gown and had a silk turban on her head. She looked sleep-deprived and irritated. A dangerous combination. Jesper sent her his best smile.
"Poppy! How wonderful to see you first thing in the morning, dear."
"Give yourself a break, Jes. You know your charm doesn't work on me."
Jesper shrugged his shoulders. "It's always worth a try."
Poppy sighed and stood up from the bench, crossing her arms. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"
"What can I say? Being so attractive has its drawbacks. For example, being constantly surrounded by admirers."
Poppy gave him a sidelong glance. "You could open your mouth first. Your personality will drive them away."
Jesper laughed, shaking his head. "That was rude. But I took note."
"Good. Now get out of here before I decide I will beat the crap out of you after all, and you won't be so pretty anymore."
Jesper raised an eyebrow. "So you think I'm pretty!"
Poppy opened the wicket and pushed him out onto the pavement. "Goodbye, Mr. Fahey!"
"See you later, Poppy. I'm looking forward to your new show."
The gate closed behind him with a loud clatter, and Jesper started down the street towards his uncle's house, where he was currently living. Mr. and Mrs. Hilli's townhouse had stood empty since his cousin Leoni had married two years ago, and his uncle had settled permanently at the family estate in the countryside. Uncle Karim was his late mother's brother, so he let Jesper use the house whenever he was in town. Jesper's social status was quite... complicated. His mother came from a Hilli family. They were not very wealthy but still held the title of Viscount. His father, on the other hand, was a minor Scottish Baron. Aditi Hilli's marriage to Colm Fahey was considered a misalliance by some, a true love story by others. After the wedding, his father left an estate in Scotland to take care of the land that was Aditi's dowry and property. Jesper grew up in the countryside, surrounded by nature and animals, sometimes helping in the fields. Eventually, however, he came to London planning to study at Oxford. He still planned to. The city simply offered too many other distractions.
When he reached home, he wasn't surprised to find that the servants were already on their feet. What did surprise him, was the sight of his cousin Leoni drinking tea in the living room. When she noticed him, she put down her tea and got up to greet him as if a visit before six in the morning was only natural. Maybe it was for pregnant women, but that was something Jesper didn't know.
He hugged her, still slightly shocked. "Leoni, dear, to what do I owe such an early visit?" he asked. "Not that I mind. This is your parent's house after all, and I'm the guest here. But what does your husband say about it?"
Leoni dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I couldn't sleep, and Adrik walks around sulking most of the time anyway. He huffs and puffs at me like I'm made of porcelain and not just pregnant. And I felt like seeing you."
"At six in the morning?"
"I had a feeling you'd be awake."
Jesper made a "seems fair” face and poured himself a cup of tea. Leoni sat down at the table and drummed her fingers on the tabletop, rearranging the teapot and then mending the tablecloth. Usually, it was Jesper who was the hyperactive one, so his cousin's behaviour plus her morning visit began to intrigue him.
"To tell you the truth," she finally spoke up, "I couldn't sleep because I'm worried about you."
Jesper scoffed. "I'm the last thing you should be worried about, Leoni."
"And yet I am! You're a grown man and it's your life and it’s not my place to tell you how you should behave. But I hear all sorts of rumours, Jesper. That you can be found more and more often in clubs at the table with cards, than at lectures. That you're losing money." Leoni whispered the last sentence in a quiet voice, and Jesper flinched.
"Leoni, you don't need to bother yourself about it. I have everything under control."
"Do you? Jes, my parents want to cut you off."
This sentence hit the mark. Jesper slowly put down his cup and straightened up in his chair, holding himself back with all his might not to run out of the room or fall under the table.
"How so?"
"I heard them talking. Your father doesn't know anything yet. But if your gambling continues, you don't graduate, get a job, or get married, you'll be left with no family money."
Jesper thought about what he just heard. What options did he have? Graduate and become a doctor? No, he couldn’t stand the sight of wounds and blood. Being a lawyer was also out, that profession required too many hours spent on documents and books for his taste. Being a priest was not an option at all. The army? It wasn’t the worst possibility. He liked shooting and was really good at it, and he would certainly look fantastic in uniform. It’s just that he always had trouble following orders. He could also return to the countryside and become an exemplary Landed gentry like his Da. Unless-
Jesper smiled to himself.
"Be aware, ladies and gentlemen. At the end of this social season, Jesper Fahey will not be a bachelor anymore!"
***
Inej Ghafa
The morning of the Opening Ball, Inej slept late. Well, she tried to, at least. She hasn’t been looking forward to this by any means. She believed that only a desperate, deprived of any other entertainment and pampered socialite could look forward to the social season. They and her best friend Nina Zenik, of course. However, Nina was a real social butterfly. She flourished by being able to party, dance, flirt, talk, and socialize. Inej did not mind the parties per se. She enjoyed the dances and the music. And she liked the outdoor activities, too. What she couldn't stand were conventions, courtesans, fluttering of eyelashes, and flexing of muscles. Most of them were metaphorical anyway. She rolled on her other side and pulled the covers over her head, trying to steal a few more minutes of sleep. She was just about to drift off into a blissful slumber when the door to her bedroom opened with a flourish. The woman who entered the room was her aunt, Lady Dhanvi Graham.
"Well, that’s just a rare sight," Lady Graham chuckled, seeing that Inej was still in bed, "you’re not the type to be lounging in the sheets until noon."
Inej groaned, raising herself to a sitting position. "I went to bed late, Auntie."
"Have you been reading late again?"
Inej smiled evasively, throwing back the covers. "Yeah, you could say that."
Her aunt did not know that Inej had a weakness for night walks around the city and learning about all its corners and secrets, and she would like that to stay that way. During the day, she could not afford such excursions. However, under the cover of night, dressed in unobtrusive clothes, Inej could wander the empty streets like a wraith. Her friend Nina accompanied her on these escapades sometimes. Her talent for acting and ability to flirt even with a bush saved them from trouble on several occasions. But what Inej cherished most were the solitary wanderings, when her only companion was the moon and she was free to roam around the city, which she grew to love more with every day.
Last night she discovered a tiny bookshop tucked away in a basement by the canals on the east bank. Its interior, though small and cluttered, was cosy and inviting. Tables with lit lamps and armchairs with soft cushions were hidden among bookshelves cluttered with books, inviting people to spend extended moments with their reading. The owner even served tea and sherry. Inej spent more than two hours there, busying herself among the books and chatting with the friendly old gentleman about Indian and Nepalese tales and legends. So, in a sense, she stayed up late because of the books, didn’t she?
Lady Graham stammered with displeasure, shaking her head. "Oh, my dear. I'm afraid you'll have to give up that habit for a while. Now that the season has started, I mean."
"I am afraid so," Inej replied as she sat at the dressing table and combed her long hair. "Besides, with all these events I should attend-"
"That you will attend," Lady Graham corrected her, standing behind her and starting to braid her hair. "You know very well that the Queen expects you to show up as often as possible so she can brag about her little charity project."
Inej drew in the air with indignation, her gaze sharp as knives in the mirror. "My scholarship is not some charity!" she protested.
Well, it was in some way. The Queen was known for her innovative ideas. Some were better, others worse, but the Royal Academic Scholarship was definitely a good one. The Queen decided to fund the studies of a few selected girls from noble families each year. As soon as the news reached India, where Ghafas lived, Inej quickly sent a letter to the only relative living in London, whom was Aunt Graham. She asked for intercession and recommendations. And she succeeded, receiving her dream place at University. A few months later, Inej set foot on English soil for the first time in her life and started her studies in September. Besides her, four more girls received the scholarship. Two dropped out after just three weeks. They caused quite a sensation among other students. They were disrespected and laughed at, and Inej was threatened to leave several times. But nothing was able to discourage her or make her quit. She was Inej Ghafa and Ghafa never fell.
"Of course, it’s not," Lady Graham agreed in a calm voice. She put her hands on Inej’s shoulders and kissed her on the crown of her head. "It’s important and impressive, and amazing and our whole family is so proud of you! I'm just saying that your presence is expected, yes. But it’s up to you whether you enjoy them or bore yourself to death. Besides, meeting new people outside your lectures would not hurt either. Nina will certainly be happy to introduce you to her friends."
Inej rolled her eyes. "Auntie, I didn’t come to London to look for a husband!"
"But who's talking about marriage!" Lady Graham protested with feigned indignation, "I'm talking about a nice afternoon tea, walks in the park, dancing with a group of friends. And if by any chance-" her aunt finished braiding her hair and pinned it up into a crown- "you caught the eye of some nice gentleman, it would give your old aunt a heart full of peace and joy."
"You’re not old, Aunt Dhanvi, Inej laughed and met her gaze in the mirror. "And I will try to have fun, I promise."
Lady Graham smiled and nodded. "Good! That’s what I wanted to hear."
Maybe it really won't be so bad, Inej thought with hope. Her reflection didn’t seem convinced.