Once Upon a Broken Heart (Once Upon a Broken Heart, #1)(9)
Her stepsister stood somewhat to the side, and Luc wasn’t with her either. But Evangeline didn’t feel the relief that she would have expected at not finding them together. Did he not know about this gathering? Or was there another reason Luc had chosen not to attend?
Marisol’s expression was difficult to read. She was wobbling on her feet and trying to keep a fly from landing on the sparkling pink sugarbelle cake in her hands. But as soon as Marisol spied Evangeline, her grin widened until it was as bright as the beautiful cake.
Agnes disdained her daughter’s love of baking—she wanted great things for Marisol and said that cooking was too common a hobby—but Evangeline wondered if she’d let Marisol make this treat for today. There were four tiers of fluffy pink cake, alternate layers of sugarbelle cream, a frosting bow, and an oversize shortbread gift tag that read: Welcome back, sister!
Guilt, thick and heavy, mingled with Evangeline’s unease. She would never have expected such a gesture from her stepsister, and she certainly didn’t deserve it.
“Oh, there’s my precious, lovely girl!” Agnes approached and threw both arms around Evangeline. “We were all desperately worried. It was such a relief to hear there was someone who could fix you.” Agnes squeezed Evangeline tighter and whispered, “So many suitors have been inquiring about you. Now that you’re back, I’ll arrange for the richest ones to visit.”
Evangeline wasn’t sure how to respond—to what Agnes had just said or to this version of her stepmother who believed in hugging. Even when Agnes had first married Evangeline’s father, she’d never embraced Evangeline. Agnes had married Maximilian for the same reason he’d married her—to make sure her daughter was provided for. Maximilian Fox had not been rich—his business ventures failed nearly as often as they succeeded—but he was a respectable match for a widow with a daughter.
Agnes released Evangeline from the embrace, only to turn her toward a gentleman that Evangeline hoped was not a suitor.
He wore a flowing white silk shirt with a lacy jabot that cascaded down to a pair of black leather pants so tight she was surprised he could move.
“Evangeline,” said Agnes, “this is Mr. Kutlass Knightlinger of The Whisper Gazette.”
“You write for those scandal sheets?”
“They are not scandal sheets; it’s a periodical,” Agnes corrected with a sniff, making Evangeline think that the fledgling paper had grown in readership and credibility since the article that had inspired her to search for the door to the Prince of Hearts’ church.
“I actually don’t care what you call it, Miss Fox, as long as I’m allowed to feature you in it.” Kutlass Knightlinger brushed a black-feathered pen across his lips. “I’ve been covering everything related to the return of the Fates, and I have several questions for you.”
Evangeline was suddenly unsteady on her feet. The last thing she wanted to talk about was what had happened with Jacks. No one could ever know she’d made a deal with a Fate.
If Evangeline had been fully recovered, she would have pulled away with a clever excuse. But instead, Mr. Kutlass Knightlinger, of the lacy jabot and the black leather pants, was the one who did all the pulling.
Quickly, he wrangled her away from the party, through a pair of thick gold curtains and onto a bench hidden in an alcove that smelled of mystery and musk and imitation magic. Or was that Kutlass Knightlinger’s cologne?
“Mr. Knightlinger—” Evangeline pushed up from the bench, and the world began to spin. She really needed to eat. “I don’t believe today is the best day for an interview.”
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t really matter what you say. I make the people I interview look good. And everyone already loves you. After the sacrifice you made, you’re one of Valenda’s favorite heroes.”
“But I’m really not a hero.”
“You’re too modest.” Kutlass leaned in closer. The heavy scent around her was definitely his cologne. “During the Week of Terror—”
“What’s the Week of Terror?”
“It was so exciting! It started right after you were turned to stone. The Fates returned—would you believe they were trapped inside a deck of cards? So much mischief and mayhem when they escaped and tried to take over the empire. But the story of how you took the place of that wedding party and turned yourself to stone inspired people all over during that difficult time. You’re a hero.”
Evangeline’s throat went suddenly dry. No wonder so many people were there. “I hope that I did what anyone else would have done in my situation.”
“That’s perfect.” Kutlass pulled out an impossibly small notebook from his leather vest and began scribbling away. “My readers are going to love this. Now—”
Her stomach cut him off with a loud grumble.
Kutlass laughed, quick and practiced as his pen strokes. “A little hungry?”
“I can’t remember the last time I ate. I should probably—”
“I only have a few more questions. There are rumors that while you were still stone, your adoptive mother started receiving marriage proposals for your hand—”
“Oh, Agnes is my stepmother,” Evangeline cut in quickly, “she never adopted me.”
“But I think it’s safe to say she will now.” Kutlass winked. “Your star will only continue to rise, Miss Fox. Now, may I have a parting word of advice for all your admirers?”