Simone's face burned as she and Shayn turned to the food table, leaving Mayra's hearing. He handed her a plate, which was oddly polite given his recent behavior, and they served themselves helpings of various dishes.
Mayra's not-so-subtle demand for them to dance together burned in her mind.
"I'm sorry," She whispered, catching his attention.
"Dare I ask what for?" He eyed her with surprise.
"For doubting you. I thought you were exaggerating about the matchmaking family members." That wasn't the whole story. In her head she'd called him dramatic, childish, and a half dozen other less-than-flattering things.
"Ha!" He said, taking a seat. She glanced around, unsure of whether to take the seat next to him or go elsewhere. He rolled his eyes and scooted a little so there would be more space between them. "You think that was bad? That was her being restrained."
Simone shook her head as she sat down. "You must be mistaken."
"I'm rarely mistaken," He eyed her, "and never about my family."
She took a bite of a delicious meat-filled pastry instead of replying. She would see how many mistakes he made in the coming months as she went over his map work. There were always small errors and inconsistencies in such things.
They ate in silence, and she watched the people around her with interest. There were a lot of dynamics she failed to grasp. Interplay between children, interactions between adults. She watched as Mayra made her way around the room, occasionally stopping to talk to someone or scolding a child.
More than once, Simone caught people in conversation with the woman darting a glance at her. Or Shayn, perhaps. He was one of the guests of honor, after all. It would be natural for people to pay attention to him.
She did so now. He'd eaten what seemed like a mountain of food, and was still consuming more. Surely he would be too full to feel like dancing and she would get out of having to do so.
Simone glanced at Kyler, who was now at the opposite end of the room. Through the number of dancing couples, she could see that he was surrounded with well-wishers.
"Does it make him sad, not to dance?" She wondered aloud, and immediately cringed. "I didn't mean–I don't want to sound—It's not my business."
"You're right, it's not." Shayn replied, and went back to eating.
Though she felt awkward for asking the question in the first place, his indifference made it worse.
She made a move to stand up, but Mayra caught her eye and shook her head once, sharply.
"Am I not allowed to get up?" She whispered.
"Now that Mayra's spotted you, you're not allowed to leave my side until we dance." Shayn grumbled, "At least, in her mind. Do so at your own risk."
"What risk?" She asked nervously. "I didn't sign up for risks. Shayn, I'm a librarian. I like books. People, on the other hand… What is going on?"
He shrugged. "Just a normal family gathering."
That could be entirely true, from what Simone knew about such things. She considered twisting her ankle to get out of dancing, but she still had to walk home after all this. Mayra turned away as a child tripped over her foot. Maybe…
"Excuse me a moment," She said, putting her empty plate aside. A servant appeared out of nowhere to take it, startling her. "The crowd is stuffy and I need some fresh air."
Without waiting for his consent, she wound her way through the people to get to the door. She was very nearly to freedom…
"Simone! I'm so glad you could come." Queen Serafina declared just as she almost reached her escape route.
"Your Highness!" Simone turned and affected a curtsy. What was normal in these situations? She didn't know how to greet royalty in a social setting.
"Simone, please! This is just a little party, not some official state function." The queen scolded. "Roland, have you met Simone?"
She curtsied again, under the older woman's mild reproving look.
"I don't think I've had the pleasure. Lovely to finally meet you, Simone. I've heard much about your great work at the library." The King! The king had heard about her!
"Thank you, Your Majest—Your Commodoreship–Your— I'm so sorry, I don't actually know the correct way of addressing you," She admitted, her face burning brilliantly red. He laughed. Laughed! His striking blue eyes seemed like they were staring into her soul. It was terrifying!
"Please call me Roland." He smiled. "At the very least, outside of Council meetings."
Simone's embarrassed blush turned white with fear. "I couldn't!"
"Please do." Roland insisted. "I'll have much to follow up with you about your work as it's completed, and it will get tedious if you aren't comfortable."
"I'll try," Simone promised, but her heart was beating in her ears. Was she visibly sweating? Did they notice?
"I noticed you arrived with Shayn," Roland peered not at her, but at his wife. She smiled back at him.
"He was kind enough to show me the way after your wife considerately invited me to attend." Simone feared putting her foot in her mouth. "I've also been introduced to much of the family."
"Oh, that's why Mayra is about to go into labor." Roland laughed. "What did you say to her?"
"Labor?" Simone asked, alarmed. She knew little of such things. "And it's my fault? I said almost nothing!"
"No, not at all. Well, kind of, but don't worry. There are enough doctors in the room to make it go easily. I am curious as to why she's glaring in this direction intermittently. I wonder if it's because we're talking to you instead of directing you back." Roland mused.
"She told us we have to dance together." Simone confessed. "I was…"
"Trying to escape? You poor thing," Finn covered her mouth with one hand.
Simone's face burned. She hadn't meant to admit that much. Roland's laughter grew in volume until it caught the attention of those nearest. Simone ducked her head as Finn put a comforting arm around her.
"If you truly want to make your escape, I will break the news to my well-meaning stepsister." She said. "I know what it feels like for her to force you together with someone."
"It feels just marvelous, as I recall." Roland leaned closer to his wife, who flicked him on the shoulder.
"It was still wrong of her, even if it did work out for us… and most of the other couples she's done it to." Finn smiled kindly. "I should have considered it better when I issued you the invitation. If you truly don't like Shayn–"
"I mean no offense!" Simone said hurriedly. She'd already admitted far too much. Telling the queen that she didn't like her stepbrother would surely be beyond what was tolerable.
"I take none. I find it rather amusing, actually. I imagine his manners suffered somewhat during his time away," Finn looked Simone up and down thoughtfully. "As I said, if you wish to make your escape, you may do so."
"You'll get a new niece or nephew tonight, Serafina," Roland warned his wife. "Mayra will have a fit and go into labor."
"I'll handle her." Finn winked at Simone, who hesitated.
Escape really did sound wonderful, and how much trouble could she be in with the queen telling her she could? She glanced over at Shayn, who seemed to be intentionally avoiding looking at her at all.
"Thank you," She finally heaved a sigh of relief and slipped out the door without a formal goodbye that might draw any additional attention.
She took a deep breath of the cool night air. Freedom had never tasted so wonderful. Shayn was surly and rude. Simone mentally conceded that everyone else at the party had been perfectly charming and polite.
Dancing with Gabriel had been a highlight of the evening. He had revealed a few funny stories about Shayn—not that she'd asked—and led well enough that she could follow even though she'd rarely ever danced. Mostly practice with other girls in the dormitory.
They used to dream about attending some grand event and being asked to dance by a handsome stranger, who was obviously rich and would make sure they never had to work again.
Silly, girlish fantasies. As she'd grown older, she'd seen just how silly. Men did not typically like girls who were more learned than they were. Though many had found Simone pretty enough at first glance to talk to, there had never been any interest beyond an initial conversation or two.
Which was all well and good. She had no interest in men who were ignorant. Her mouth twisted. Her own definition of ignorant probably varied significantly from the average person's. But she spent all her waking hours around books! How ungrateful would it be to remain willfully unread?
Her steps slowed for a moment. Perhaps she'd never find someone more knowledgeable than she was. No one eligible, anyway, she amended, thinking of the elderly Treasurer. She might end her days alone, with her books.
Surely, that couldn't be too terrible a life.