Page 9

Valerie let her eyes fall to them all when she spoke.

“If one cares more about her fleeting beauty than becoming knowledgeable, what does she have left to give when the sons are born, other than a wrinkled face and lack of conversation?”

“Are you so forwardly insinuating that we are stupid?” Savannah frowned, taking the trailing of her eyes over them as an attack.

“I do not believe I said such a thing. We were merely discussing the fickle views of men that we must endure as women.” That placated the girl, although Charlotte was still, deservingly, offended.

“We each have something to offer, and it is solely up to men if they find that desirable or not,” Wyetta added, as if she understood what Valerie was talking about.

“Yes, and it is not our choice. We may foolishly love a man, but he could seek something as vain as beauty on his arm.”

“And yet, they do not understand we often seek the same thing,” Wyetta laughed before she leaned forward to whisper. “The size of their purse is often helpful in deciding.”

All of them laughed except for Valerie, who merely gave a false smile.

“Perhaps, but there is more to a man than his purse and his face.”

“You are talking about treatment,” Savannah said, taking a sip of her wine. “It is true that some men can be brutish. Most lack the ability to be romantic, or to not think with their dicks.”

“I would not take a man if he could not be faithful,” Charlotte blurted out.

“Only a woman who can handle men and satisfy them can stop their husband from taking a mistress,” Wyetta told her.

That was something Valerie already knew about human nobles. The men often liked to take up other women. Doing it openly meant they lacked respect for their wives, but there were many reasons why they hid their disloyalty.

“I agree with Charlotte,” Savannah said, allowing a frown to cross her features. “It should not matter. To take up a wife is to be loyal to her, especially since we rarely get the opportunity to choose our husband. If they sought us, they should remain ours.”

“What do you think, Cecily?” Wyetta asked with a raised brow, obviously disagreeing.

“I believe karma is a wonderful medicine,” Valerie answered, causing all the women to lower their lips in silent gasps.

Valerie was talking about fighting adultery with adultery. They wouldn’t know she also wouldn’t allow a man to beat her, or treat her horribly either, without retaliation.

She appeared dainty and feminine, but she was strong. Her mother had taught all her daughters how to fight with a weapon, since white magic was rarely used to harm.

These words were also a message to not cross her. She wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate freely.

Turning to Vermont, she tugged on the sleeve of his dress suit to grab his attention. She wasn’t bothered by her own statement, how it wasn’t seen as proper, but she no longer wished to be a part of this conversation.

“Uncle, I believe you promised we would dance when we arrived.” No promise had been made.

“Of course, niece.” He offered his arm so she could take it.

She pulled away from the women, looking each in the eye before turning.

Placing her empty glass on a tray offered by a servant, she put her hand on his shoulder while the other she allowed him to grasp.

The king was still seated on his throne, and from the corner of her eye, she noted he was watching her now that she was out in the open. There were already other dancers, and they joined in an easy waltz, mirroring them.

She knew how to dance, knew how to be proper. Most importantly, Valerie knew how to acthuman.

“Perhaps you will be too much for those girls,” Vermont whispered, leaning forward. “I think they underestimate you.”

The power of the spell was working perfectly.He truly thinks he is Duke Vermont and I am his niece.

“They will come to learn that I have fangs,” she answered, keeping her face relaxed.

Other guests turned their heads in their direction due to the bellowing laugh he released. He shook his head with a grin.