Throwing Down the Gauntlet

The viscount's cheapness in reversing his attitude so quickly was almost laughable, but that wasn't the problem right now. I hadn't expected some dramatic first meeting, but even so, the Imperial Prince's reaction left me disappointed.

No—disappointed didn't cover it. I was angry.

I had even mentioned Dorothy, and still he hadn't so much as flinched. Which meant that child had meant nothing to him. Even if he had nothing to do with her death, he was the one responsible for the vile reputation that had been hung around her neck. And yet he could be this indifferent.

I was watching the Imperial Prince's receding back, turning over what to do next, when a shrill voice rang out behind me.

"You!"

Count Noerd came striding toward me at speed, his face twisted into something ugly. I turned slowly to face him. He closed the distance, breathing hard, and demanded with a snarl.

"You dare—you dare do that to me and expect to walk away unscathed?"

He'd conveniently forgotten everything he'd done to me; apparently being punched unconscious was the part that truly rankled. I let out a short, derisive snort.

"I don't see why I shouldn't. You seem to have walked away just fine yourself, Count."

"You little—"

Count Noerd bunched his fist and advanced on me, and Viscountess Cecilia stepped in, sweating.

"Count Noerd, please, compose yourself."

"Stay out of this."

"I don't know what this is about, but restrain yourself. There are too many eyes."

At that, Count Noerd glanced around. Nobles had already gathered, murmuring as they watched us, and the Imperial Prince had stopped and turned to look as well. The count clicked his tongue in irritation, then seized my wrist and started dragging me after him.

"Come with me."

"Good heavens, Count. What on earth are you doing?"

Viscountess Cecilia pleaded at his side as he hauled me along, but it wasn't her who stopped him. Someone stepped out of the crowd and planted himself in the count's path.

Count Noerd started at the interruption, then recognized the face and bristled.

"Count Kaider? What are you doing here?"

"Take your hand off her."

"Why is a count even—forget it. I'm busy. Step aside."

"I said take your hand off her."

Rifte's amber eyes had gone dark and sharp; his voice was low. Count Noerd flinched under the pressure of a man easily half a head taller than himself, then, furious at his own recoil, raised his voice even louder.

"This is none of your concern, Count. Stay out of it!"

"Count Noerd. I will not say it a third time."

"Who do you think you—ah. Ahh, I see. So you're the one who took this woman home that night?"

A greasy smile spread across Count Noerd's face as he mocked us both at once.

"If you spent the night together, I suppose this isn't so surprising. Must have been quite a good time, was it?"

"Count. Shut your mouth."

Rifte's presence turned even more menacing. At this rate, the two of them were going to come to blows in the middle of the Empress's banquet. That would be a problem for me as well.

I didn't know what Rifte intended, but Count Noerd was mine first.

I swung my arm hard, breaking his grip, and as he turned in surprise I slapped him clean across the face. The crack of my palm against his cheek rang through the center of the banquet hall.

Count Noerd staggered, clutching his cheek, and stared at me in stunned disbelief, his whole body trembling as if he couldn't accept what had just happened to him. I met his eyes and spoke loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear.

"You have just insulted me and sullied my honor. Apologize."

"You—"

"Apologize."

"You—!"

Count Noerd swung a fist and lunged at me.

Or rather, he tried to. Before he could reach me, Rifte caught his arm, and the count thrashed and screamed to be let go. Holding him fast, Rifte shot me a look that asked what exactly I thought I was doing.

What I thought I was doing?

This.

I peeled the glove from my left hand, slowly.

"You don't appear inclined to apologize. In that case, I have no choice."

I flung the glove at the struggling Count Noerd. The white leather struck him square on the nose and dropped to the floor.

The banquet hall went silent, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over it.

Rifte was so startled he actually let go of Count Noerd's arm, struck speechless. The count himself could only stare at me, dazed. Then a snicker broke from among the gathered crowd.

Heads turned toward the sound, and the Imperial Prince stepped forward, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Well, this is an entertaining spectacle. So—will Count Kaider now step forward to defend the lady's sullied honor?"

Amusement tugged at the corners of his eyes, but the blue gaze he turned on Rifte held no warmth at all. The two of them locked eyes, each trying to read the other's next move.

I stepped in front of Rifte, blocking him, and bowed my head with due courtesy.

"No, Your Highness. I intend to fight the duel myself."

"You, my lady? Yourself?"

"Yes."

At my answer the Imperial Prince burst out laughing again. He clapped Marquis Claude on the shoulder beside him, roaring as if he couldn't help himself. He laughed alone for a long while, then wiped the corners of his eyes.

"It just keeps getting better. Very well. I'll attend as a witness to the duel."

It was Count Noerd whose position had become awkward. He waved a hand and approached the prince.

"Your Highness, no. A duel? How am I supposed to duel a woman?"

"Count, you aren't tucking your tail and running, are you? I'd be terribly disappointed."

"That's not—"

"Then I'll set the time. Three days from now, three o'clock in the afternoon, at the Imperial Palace shooting range. Pistols for both parties, three witnesses each. Well?"

Once the Imperial Prince had put it like that, there was nothing Count Noerd could do to take it back. I bowed at once, accepting the terms.

"That suits me, Your Highness."

"And the count?"

"I... agree as well."

Count Noerd consented, sullen. The prince looked at me a moment longer, his face still full of amusement, then laughed once more and turned away.

The music, which had stopped, began to play again, and the crowd dispersed in a rustle of whispers. Count Noerd glared at me, trembling, but there was nothing he could do. I twisted the corner of my mouth at him in a smirk and turned on my heel.

Viscountess Cecilia hurried after me.

"My lady, what do you think you're doing?"

"You told me to catch the prince's eye. I'd say I've made an impression."

"Who told you to catch it like that?"

"Take it up with Count Noerd. He looked like he was in the mood for it."

I snapped at her and walked straight out of the banquet hall. I'd even managed an unexpected second meeting with the Imperial Prince. Every objective I'd come for had been achieved.

I boarded the carriage to return to Daisy House. We were just about to leave when the door was yanked open and Rifte climbed in.

"My lady, what in the world are you thinking?"

He sat across from me, our knees nearly touching, and I shifted my posture, avoiding his eyes. His voice was tight with frustration.

"My lady."

"It occurred to me that there's a perfectly legal weapon one is permitted to carry in the Imperial Palace."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This. This right here."

I pulled off my remaining glove and dangled it in front of his face. Rifte stared at it, looking utterly at a loss, then asked, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words.

"Th-then... you meant to do this from the start?"

"I told you I'd handle my own affairs."

I shrugged. Rifte raked a hand roughly through his hair, his gaze more unsettled than I had ever seen it. I folded the unmatched glove neatly, recalling Count Noerd's stricken face.

"He was always bragging about how close he was to the prince, being his cousin and all. Didn't look that way today."

"There is a rumor that Count Noerd overreached, trading on His Highness's influence, and fell out of favor."

"So if I kill him, it won't be a problem?"

Rifte had been answering as if his mind were elsewhere. Then he snapped fully awake.

"Are you actually going to duel the count?"

I tilted my head.

"It'd be rather difficult to back out now, wouldn't it?"

Rifte raked a hand through his hair again.

"Which brings me to my next request, Count Kaider. Might I borrow a pistol?"

He only stared at me, his gaze unsteady, and said nothing.

I had been wondering what I'd do if Rifte refused to lend me a pistol after all. The next day, he arrived at Daisy House carrying a large box.

Inside the box he set on the table, six pistols lay neatly arranged. Some I recognized; others were new models I'd only heard of and never seen. I picked up one of the newer pieces, its barrel longer and slimmer than the rest. The weight was right, the grip excellent—but a make I already knew would serve me better. I set it down and reached for one I knew.

"I'll take this one."