The Garden Party was scheduled for eleven o'clock on a Tuesday, which struck Honoria as an entirely reasonable hour at which to watch someone die.
She had dressed with deliberate moderation — the grey-blue wool that Lady Morrow had selected for her third week's afternoon events, a colour that said Province Twelve without apology and said nothing else at all. Lady Morrow had been specific about this. The early weeks were for observation, not exhibition; one wore colours that permitted one to stand at the edge of things without appearing to have positioned oneself at the edge of things, which was itself a distinction the Gilded Court found enormously significant.
"You understand the difference," Lady Morrow had said that morning, over tea so strong it could have stripped varnish, "between being overlooked and choosing to be overlooked."
Create a free account to unlock all chapters. It only takes a few seconds.
Sign In FreeCreate your own AI-powered novel for free
Get Started Free