"Here, give Mason these, Fatima." Aliya handed a small bag of sweets to her maid before the woman climbed down the stagecoach. "Tell him I am very sorry to not see him today. Give my love to him, will you?" Fatima nodded with a smile. "Yes, of course, my lady."

Aliya wanted to say more, but they could not be seen lingering outside the apartment. She motioned for Fatima to get going. She watched the woman wait until she was gone. And when they exited Maple Row, Aliya caught a glimpse of Fatima walking to the apartment.

"Mason is growing fast, isn't he, my lady?" asked Carrie over her shoulder.

Aliya nodded; her eyes unfocused as her mind reeled. Too many things demanded her attention and she was losing control. They could not keep living this way.

They reached the park where Aliya was scheduled to meet Sasha. Climbing down the coach, she told Carrie to go home to the villa. "Watch Maya. Yesterday she wandered around the neighborhood. If she asks, tell her that I am visiting a few Belles and that I ordered Fatima to run errands. I will go back on foot after my meeting."

"Yes, my lady," Carrie replied.

Aliya turned to face the park. She would have rather spent the afternoon with Mason, but she could not simply ignore Sasha's invitation. The last thing she needed was for the woman to get curious about her.

The park was not full today as the weather was getting unfriendly. She passed by a few ladies walking around, murmuring under their breath about the recent gossips in town, a cloud of smoke trailing behind their heads. She found Sasha standing quietly by the stone bench, her red cloak wrapped around her, the hood down, displaying her wavy brown hair. It seemed that not everything in Sasha changed, she said to herself as she approached. The woman still wore her hair down most times, a contrast to most Belles who would dare not go out without donning theirs with pins and pearls.

"It is rather cold to invite me for a walk," she said in greeting.

Sasha's face broke into a smile. "I enjoy taking walks. I used to work with my old neighbor in Coulway."

They fell into an easy pace along the cobbled path of the park. "Ah, the mother of the baron?"

Sasha puffed out winter smoke. "The very same."

Aliya sighed at the memory. "I wonder what happened to the horse."

"We set it free. I want to believe it took its course and is now running wild somewhere."

She looked at Sasha with a smile. "I hope the same."

"I have not yet returned to Belcourt. Have you?"

Aliya nodded. "I did."

"And how are Ruby and Jade? Did you meet them by chance?"

"I did. They inquired about you. I told them you are doing remarkably well."

Sasha looked at her arm. "And your arm?"

She looked down. "I may be off the sling soon."

A peaceful silence reigned between them. The clicks of their walking shoes vibrating in the still winter air.

"I learned that you came to Belcourt when you were fifteen," Sasha said, breaking the silence and stopping Aliya's heart.

"How did you know?"

Sasha shrugged. "I was around ten or eleven when you entered the Manor. I have been living in the west wing for three years then and only heard of the other girls gossiping about an older child being taken in."

Aliya nodded. "Yes, I was fifteen when I entered Belcourt. Too old, really. Belcourt was kind enough to offer me a home."

"And you only had three years before you were courted."

She sighed. "I was educated before I came to Belcourt. Belcourt thought I did not need more time in the Manor."

"But it must have been quite difficult for you."

"What was difficult?"

Sasha turned her head to look into her eyes. She was four years older than Sasha, yet it seemed that the woman was her senior by the way she looked at her. Sasha had matured greatly in just a year being a Belle. "Adjusting. Most of the girls you were with must have been in the Manor for so long if not their entire life. Belcourt's culture and laws were already inculcated deeply."

"There is no time to adjust to those who find Belcourt a haven."

"I agree." Silence. More steps. A gentleman atop a horse trotted past them. "If you do not mind me asking, how did you end up in Belcourt? You said you were educated. It sounds to me that you had a good life."

Aliya carefully assessed her next words. "My father did many bad things and made enemies."

Slowly, Sasha nodded. With a sardonic smile on her lips, she said, "I cannot say the same for my father. He killed my mother. When I came home, he made me choose. Me or him. I chose me. He told me to go to Belcourt before he shot himself."

Aliya stopped walking, drawing back; eyes wide in horror. Sasha did the same and frowned at her with confusion. "Oh God, Sasha! I did not know."

Sasha seemed unperturbed and then shrugged. "Now you do." The woman turned and continued walking while Aliya stayed where she was, gaping in disbelief. How could she have just narrated that story and still be so... calm? It was as though she was detached from it.

Her father asked her to choose and she chose herself. Aliya would have tried to reason with her father. She would have chosen to die with her mother.

Then Aliya mentally shook her head. She did not know Sasha's circumstances before Belcourt. Mayhap making that choice was what saved her.

Yet that did not discount the fact that Sasha was ruled by her mind, by logic. The perfect Belle.

She jumped to her feet and caught up with Sasha, the woman's story stuck in her head. She cleared her throat, thinking of another subject for their walk. "How is it fairing with your new flower?"

"We are getting somewhere, I believe."

"Truly?"

Sasha's face was unreadable. "Yes." She would not meet Aliya's smile, her gaze focused on the path ahead of them. "Rothsker is a fun company," the woman continued, voice deadpan. "He travels a lot and I hope to join him in one of them. A Soldier follows him about, of course."

She could not read anything from Sasha's tone and she understood. Turning to look at the same direction the woman was, she said, "I found it hard the first time I changed flower," she admitted.

Sasha turned to her, a slight surprise in her eyes. "That was not the impression I had on you. You were keen on giving me a warning about my first flower."

Aliya smiled. The woman could not even bring herself to say her first flower's name. "I only had three gentlemen since I was courted. I grew attached to my first and the second was short-lived. Hartcaster is the best by far."

Again, silence. She could almost hear the gears in Sasha's head reeling. Finally, the woman asked, "Did you fancy yourself in love with your first flower?"

A sardonic chuckle escaped her throat. "Yes, oh God, yes."

Sasha scoffed. "Truly? Aliya, the best Belle in Belcourt, fell in love?"

"Please, have a heart, Sasha. He was my first flower. We had been together for years. He made it easy to fall in love with him."

That was the last conversation they had about any gentlemen in Belcourt that afternoon. Sasha diverted the subject quickly and asked questions about Strait. Where is the best café? Where could she find the best tea? How far is it from Parlton? Is there a theater somewhere?

By five, they parted ways. Aliya watched Sasha's stagecoach disappear, wondering how the woman could do it. To be detached? Or perhaps she was not and she was just like Aliya who could act confident. Yet the deadpan look in Sasha's eyes told her otherwise. The woman lost something after her discovery of the Royal Circus.

As she made her way back to her villa on foot, she thought of Belcourt.

Loyalty. It was the one thing that Belcourt taught its children and the paramount thing they required from the courted ladies. Sasha and many others were victims. Aliya could not blame them for it for she had also worked hard to be recognized by Belcourt. But her enemies were the same women she grew up with. They could be her best of friends, but they could also be her worst enemy. She had to be careful around Sasha. The woman would not hesitate to report her to Belcourt if she found out about Mason.

And if that happened, Aliya would not have the chance to rescue Delaney.

*****

Oliver wondered why Aliya was still in Strait. The season had started and most Belles were getting ready to go to the kingdom's capital if they were not already there.

Was it Hartcaster? The man was reported to not attend parliament this year.

And he wondered why he was here. He just found out where her villa was through one of his patients and two hours later, he wandered to Penrose Lane.

He was leaning against the wall outside her villa, waiting for her, when he saw her rushing toward him with a scowl.

His smile broke out and he pushed away from the wall, but before he could utter a sound, she grabbed his hand and pulled him away from her doorsteps.

"How did you even know where I live? Never mind, I am not surprised. But what are you doing here?" she hissed at him, dragging him further down the side of the street.

"I had to check your arm," he said, "and you and I know that is a lie. But a good one still the same. You truly have to have it checked."

She let go of his arm, looked over her shoulder, and glared back up at him. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and probably with frustration from his stalking.

He narrowed his eyes at her face. "You have a small mole at the corner of her mouth. I never saw that before."

She blinked with irritation. "What are you doing here, St. Vincent?"

"I had nothing else to do."

"You have given up drinking, then?"

"No, of course not." He looked around him and wondered to himself. Why was he here again? "Can I not be seen with you?" he asked, eyes on her villa.

"I hate explaining myself to my staff." She sighed. "My arm is fine."

"Can you move it?"

She did, and he nodded.

"And your wrist?"

She rotated her wrist, her lips pressed together.

"Good." He stepped back and gave her a mocking bow.

Smoke escaped her mouth as she scoffed in disbelief. "You are going?"

"Are you going to invite me to your villa?"

"No."

"Then I am going." He turned around and walked away.

"You are insane, St. Vincent!" she hissed behind him.

He turned and gave her another bow while walking backward. "And you look beautiful today, Lady Aliya!"

As he turned, his smile disappeared.

She did not belong in Belcourt. She may think she was free here, but her villa is the extension of the institution.

He had to take her out before the Royal Circus ruined Belcourt.

*****

When Jason opened the doors, Oliver noticed one very important detail.

Jason was smiling.

He closed his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "She is here, is she not?"

Jason's smile widened. "She is in the parlor, Doctor."

He stalked to the parlor and found her there. She did not even flinch when the door slammed against the adjacent wall. She continued to sip from her tea and gracefully placed it on the table without a sound.

Natalia St. Vincent was a profoundly serious woman who believed her son was crazy. She was a tall, slender woman with light blonde hair and light green eyes who could slice any man of any size with just a simple glance—his father the prime example. She was always calm and graceful, but there was something in the way she executed those traits that made her seem dangerous. Oliver and his father had experienced that danger many times in the past and were avid lobbyists of the covert movement of staying away from Natalia St. Vincent.

She was controlling and manipulative and she was the only woman he hated and loved at the same time.

"I have a reason to believe, Oliver," said his mother as he sank into the settee beside her without any form of greeting, "that you accepted a mission for the Circus."

"I did not such thing, Mother," he wryly said.

"Then why are you suddenly in Strait? There is no Stark's here, is there?"

He sighed. "I know you know why I am here, Mother. I am quite certain Jason is very thorough with his reporting."

"You must remember your role in the Circus." Her green eyes landed on him, arresting him against the settee. "You are one of the doctors of the Circus, Oliver, nothing else. You were not trained to put yourself in grave danger like the other Royals. The season has just started and Circus sessions are soon to resume. You ought to be in Coulway."

"First of all, Mother, I was permitted by Lord Darcy himself that I can approach Aliya. Second, Pemberton is in Coulway and he can deal with any injuries if there is ever one. And third, I am in Strait because this is where the woman I am pursuing is at the moment, and in reference to point number one, the very same woman I was given permission—by Lord Darcy—to approach." He jumped from the settee and straight to the liquor cabinet.

He could feel his mother's cold gaze boring at the back of his head. He emptied his first glass and poured himself another. Turning, he tucked hi shoulder-length tresses behind his ear. "I washed my hair. Did you not notice?"

Natalia St. Vincent's left eye twitched, her lips curling with icy contempt. "I also notice that your belly is growing, son."

Oliver looked down. "I applaud your eyesight, Mother, for you see what I cannot." To give her no time to lecture him on his drinking, he returned to her side. "Where is your husband?"

"In Herst, of course."

"And you crossed the waves from Herst to the mainland to come and see me. I am touched."

Natalia St. Vincent rolled her eyes. "You smell like brandy, Oliver."

"I know." He sniffed his sleeve. "I wonder if the laundry lady is doing a good job."

"I have enough of your jests for the time being." Natalia rose from the settee. Looking down at him, she said, "I wish to organize a small tea party with my friends."

"Ah, yes. I often forget that you have them. Your friends, I mean."

"And I want you to invite this woman."

She stiffened. "Which woman?"

"Aliya, who else?"