One for Cards

Chapter Eight

ADDIE HAD NEVER BEEN EDUCATED ON HOW TO BE ALLURING. IT CERTAINLY wasn't something taught at the Queen Isabelle Institution for Fine Young Ladies. Perhaps some mothers schooled their daughters on the subject, or it was passed down from sister to sister; Addie had always been an only child, and the woman who had then been Mrs Katherine Smith had always been more preoccupied with her daughter's ability to play the pianoforte and name kings and queens than to seduce a man. Addie now understood, of course, that this was all for good reason. Someone – she'd long forgotten who – had once said that she wasn't being raised to be Prime Minister, and that someone had been absolutely right.

Adelaide Smith was being raised to be Queen.

Presently, though, she did not feel like she would make a good enough one. On her way to the drawing room to meet with Prince Hasan, her hand gripped Mr Williams's arm more tightly than she intended. Surely her mother never quaked in her shoes the way she was quaking in that moment, so petrified at the thought of meeting a foreign dignitary.

Well, surely no foreign dignitary had ever so brutishly demanded to marry Queen Anne by threatening Lastyria with full-fledged war if she declined. Perhaps it was not a fair comparison.

Mr Williams smiled gently at her. "Miss Smith, it would serve you better to try and relax."

She tried to soothe herself with a deep breath. It didn't work.

"What if I fail everyone?" She tried to hide it, but her voice shook.

"You really will not," he assured her.

"Well, you're only saying that because—"

He stopped walking quite abruptly and took her by the elbows, turning her to face him.

"Miss Smith," he said, "Princess Adelaide."

She found herself staring up at him, their gazes locked. She was still trembling, and she still felt like she might swoon any moment, but he held her steady enough.

"I promise you that you will be – and do – perfectly fine. You are stronger than you know, and I have absolute faith in you." His words came out slow and strong. "I have known you for years now, and time and time again I have watched you doubt yourself. First it was that you thought you could not remember the order of the Lastyrian monarchs; tell me, who was the seventh queen of Lastyria?"

"Queen Felicity," she squeaked.

"Very good." He smiled warmly, just like he had the first time she had answered that question correctly. "There were a million other topics you thought you would never know by heart, and yet look at you now. I do not say this lightly, Miss Smith – you could study politics in Liberium and do just fine."

"Do you really think so?" Her eyes spoke of wonderment beyond words, and he chuckled.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

She could not resist a wry smile of her own. "I certainly hope not."

"You were so frightened at your coronation," he reminded her. "And yet you did it, with more grace than I have ever seen one person carry."

"Mr Williams..."

"You have been a student, a princess, and now you will be a diplomat," he said. "I have every confidence you will perform as outstandingly as you always have. Think of it, Miss Smith, how many women could do everything you have done as yet? How many women could fight against a fate as frightening as yours, as you are doing now?"

"You would do well not to underestimate us, Mr Williams; you would be surprised at how much a woman might be able to do, if she is only desperate enough."