Page 1 of Pawns of Fate

ROSE

R ose inhaled the floral scent of the pink roses that filled her uncle’s garden.

She paused to reach out and touch the soft petals.

The sun shone with a brilliant lustre in the cloudless sky, warming her skin and casting a harsh light on the flowers and any partygoers who hadn’t retreated to the shade tents.

Rose wandered along the edge of her cousin’s birthday celebration, drawing as little attention to herself as possible and trying to ignore her aching feet.

She’d spent the past few days helping her aunt prepare for this party and the past few hours running around, completing any tasks that her adopted family couldn’t be bothered to do. She wanted a break.

From across the garden, Aunt Ghislaine waved at Rose, motioning for her to come closer. Rose sighed. Ghislaine would have another job for her, probably something a servant should do. But Ghislaine hated to see Rose enjoying herself.

“Tell the chef to bring out the cake.” Aunt Ghislaine tugged Rose’s sleeve as she pulled her out of the other guest’s earshot.

Rose masked her exhaustion with a calm smile.

She’d known that the party would go this way—serving as her aunt’s errand girl rather than being allowed to enjoy the festivities.

Every event the Robsons hosted followed the same pattern.

It shouldn’t hurt her feelings at this point. It had been happening for years.

“Of course, Aunt Ghislaine. Everything has been going so well! I’m sad to see the birthday celebration draw to a close.” Rose hoped her voice sounded more convincing out loud than it did in her head. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, I have!” Ghislaine eyed Rose like she was about to haggle with her over the price of beef, not discuss her daughter’s birthday party.

“I thought I would feel bittersweet about it. I’m sad to see my youngest reach her coming-of-age ceremony, but nothing makes me happier than seeing my children happy. Luanna’s glowing today!”

A green-haired lady who looked about the same age as her aunt overheard the last part of their conversation, despite Ghislaine’s efforts to keep Rose away from the attention of the other nobles.

“Goodness me! If you can’t handle her coming-of-age party, what will you do when it’s time to arrange a marriage for her?” the woman declared.

“Don’t speak of it, Baroness Vesta!” Her aunt feigned chest pains, placing her hand dramatically over her sternum and grinning slyly. “My heart absolutely cannot bear that kind of talk today!”

Aunt Ghislaine turned to face Baroness Vesta, putting her back toward Rose and effectively blocking her from the conversation. Rose couldn’t even find any annoyance at her aunt’s rudeness. She was just too tired to care. Instead, she took that as her cue to find the chef and scurried away.

Even though what she truly wanted was a break from being her aunt’s errand girl, Rose decided to focus on her gratefulness for a moment of respite from all the festivities.

She didn’t mind celebrations, but she preferred small gatherings of people or calm tea parties.

Her cousin Luanna’s coming-of-age party was neither of those things.

Fifty aristocratic families had journeyed to the castle, meaning that upwards of 150 people were in attendance.

The maids, cooks, and gardeners had worked for weeks to prepare the lavish decorations and food.

The Robson garden was in full bloom, so the colorful attire of the lords and ladies splashed against a stunning background of pink roses, lilies, camellias, and too many other flower species to count.

To top it all off, Uncle Hector hired the best musicians in the province to sing and play.

The whole thing was a beautiful spectacle, if a little overwhelming to a quiet personality like Rose.

Amidst all the activity, she didn’t mind the few minutes of peace and calm her trek to the kitchen afforded her.

In contrast to the vibrant, boisterous party outside, the inside of the castle was dark and nearly empty.

Preoccupied with the celebration, the servants had forgotten to light the torches that lined the halls, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Maybe she could find a quiet corner to escape her aunt’s notice for a while and drink a cup of tea.

“Miss Rose!” Arnold, the chef, greeted her as she opened the door to the bustling kitchen.

A dozen servants cleaned, chopped, and cooked.

The smell of sugar and citrus invaded Rose’s nose.

Pots and pans clanged together as a servant with water runes on his hand used a spell to heat the water and wash the dishes.

Rose could feel the steam from the magic all the way on the opposite side of the kitchen.

“Are you ready to serve the cake?” Rose glanced at the flamboyant mountain of pink and purple icing that the chef fussed over.

The cake had three tiers already, and Arnold was carefully adding a fourth.

Each layer brimmed with ruffles of icing.

It was the largest, most intricate cake Rose had ever seen.

Arnold tended to it with more care than a mother holding their newborn child.

“Is an artist truly ever ready to present their masterpiece, Lady Rose?”

“Well, it’s time for you to do just that, Arnold,” she countered, wondering how he would react when the partygoers ate his masterpiece.

“It’s true!” He belly laughed. “Tell your aunt that the cake will arrive in fifteen minutes.” He turned and yelled instructions to his staff .

The kitchen, which Rose had thought busy with activity before, exploded with frantic energy as everyone scurried to complete their freshly assigned work. The mage washing dishes accidentally sprayed Arnold with water when the chef surprised him by yelling too close to his ears.

Rose chuckled and decided to leave instead of watching the rest of the scene play out. Her mission accomplished; she returned to the garden to convey the chef’s message.

Aunt Ghislaine sat at a table, enjoying the celebration with her friends. Rose couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy that twisted inside her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an opportunity to make friends, let alone enjoy a party with them.

“Arnold said the cake will be ready soon,” Rose whispered into her aunt’s ear.

“Very good. Go check on Luanna for me,” Ghislaine replied quietly. She waved Rose off so that she might continue talking with the other noble women.

Rose grimaced when her back turned toward Ghislaine.

Checking on her younger cousin was Rose’s least favorite duty.

It always put her in a socially awkward position.

Luanna was younger than Rose but, like her mother, had a habit of pushing undesirable tasks onto Rose.

Because Rose wasn’t truly Luanna’s older sister, she didn’t have any authority to stop her.

Luanna and her friends were sitting in the largest of the various shade tents set up around the garden, sipping their drinks.

The jewel-toned dresses reflected the vivid hair colors common among mages and Albionish nobility.

This season, it was fashionable for noble girls to coordinate their dresses with their house colors, which usually reflected a family’s strongest magical ability.

Over the generations, the magical traits had grown strong enough to influence a person’s hair and eye color.

Rose had pink hair and reddish eyes, reflecting her inherited aural magic.

At a glance, the young women appeared to be enjoying things. However, as Rose approached the group and inspected their demeanor further, she noticed the girls were talking in rushed whispers and actively avoiding eye contact with each other.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the girl’s feelings.

This is why commoners and nobility shouldn’t mix,” a girl with topaz hair and a ruffled, lacy dress whined.

Her voice grated on every one of Rose’s senses.

A claw of panic pinched her neck. Only one ‘commoner’ had been invited to the party: Marquess Sharp’s daughter-in-law, Ava Sharp.

Ava had taken the noble world by storm last year when she married York Sharp, the marquess’s youngest son.

A commoner from the Imperial City marrying a wealthy countryside aristocrat sounded like the stuff of romance novels to most people.

But it was enraging gossip fodder to Albionish high society, especially young, single, noble ladies.

How dare a commoner marry one of Albion’s most eligible noble bachelors?

From what Rose heard, besides her chocolate brown hair, petite yet voluptuous figure, and classic beauty, Ava had a boisterous, frank, and outgoing personality, which hindered her ability to blend into the cold world of high society.

She was also prone to forget or ignore the strict etiquette rules that noble families lived and died by, so she inadvertently insulted quite a few people whenever she attended social events.

Rose needed to calm the situation down. It didn’t matter if it was common knowledge that Ava unintentionally caused trouble at high society parties; the fault would lie with the Robsons.

They were hosting the gathering. The Sharp family outranked the Robsons—worse, Onanish, the Sharp’s territory, neighbored Robson territory.

Offenses towards the Sharps were not something Rose’s family and the citizens under their rule could afford.

They depended heavily on Onanish for trade and access to the large northern cities.

If the families started feuding, or worse, warring, everyone would suffer, and the Robsons would most likely lose any kind of military conflict with the Sharps.

Their military was much larger, and the Sharp family members were all lightning mages.

Rose shot a glare at her cousin.

“What happened, Luanna?”