Everyone at court had been certain that Prince Julian would marry Lady Celestine. She was beautiful, golden-haired and perfectly bred, and she had spent four seasons making sure he saw her at every ball. Instead, after a summer tour of the provinces, he came home betrothed to Lady Imogen Grey, a plump, plain-spoken lord's daughter from the north who wore simple gowns, laughed out loud and asked the ministers questions they did not like.
The ladies of the court decided she would not last a season. Celestine decided she would not last a week.
On a quiet afternoon in Mercer Lane, a veiled lady bought a small vial of foxglove tincture from an apothecary's apprentice, saying it was for her aunt's weak heart. A few drops of it, taken as medicine, can steady a heartbeat. A large dose in a cup of wine makes the heart race and stumble, the skin go grey and cold, and a healthy woman collapse in front of everyone. Celestine meant Imogen to fall at the court reception, to be carried out shaking, and to be quietly judged too sickly to give the kingdom an heir. Whether she would ever get up again, Celestine had not let herself think about too carefully.
What she did not know was that Master Crane, the apothecary, checked his ledger every morning. That morning he found the sale, a far larger quantity than any honest heart remedy, and a description of the veiled buyer that the apprentice could not stop repeating: blond hair, a lady's voice, a gold ring with a blue stone. Master Crane had once supplied the royal household. He went straight to the palace and asked to see the prince.
Julian listened, thanked him, and said nothing to anyone. He wanted to be sure. All afternoon he watched Celestine.
He watched her go to the side table herself instead of letting a servant pour. He watched her stand with her back to the room for longer than it takes to fill two cups. And he watched her walk across the bright white hall with a cup in each hand and a smile on her face.
"A toast to you," Celestine said, holding one out to Imogen. "Drink, my dear."
Imogen had grown up in a hard northern house where her father's steward had once been caught watering the lord's wine, and she had learned early to notice small things. She noticed that Celestine, who had not said one kind word to her in six weeks, was suddenly all honey. She noticed that Celestine had poured the wine herself. And she noticed that Celestine held her own cup low, as if she had no intention of drinking from it.
So Imogen took the cup, looked at it, and held it back out.
"You first, my lady."
Celestine laughed, and did not take it. That was when Julian stepped up beside his bride.
"Drink it, Celestine."
She could not. The cup shook in front of her. Behind the prince, Master Crane stepped out of the crowd with his ledger under his arm, and the apprentice beside him pointed at the gold ring with the blue stone on Celestine's hand.
The cup slipped from her fingers and the wine spread across the white marble. Celestine dropped to her knees beside it, sobbing that she had only meant to make Imogen ill, only enough to embarrass her, never more. The court, which had laughed at Imogen for six weeks, heard every word.
The King did not send her to a cell. He did something she found far worse. He stripped her of her place among the Queen's ladies and ordered her from court for good, to her family's estate in the marshes, where no ball would ever be held. Her father gave up his seat on the royal council the same month. The ladies who had whispered with her about the "provincial girl" suddenly could not remember ever having been her friends.
That evening, when the hall had emptied, Julian found Imogen standing alone by the tall windows.
"You knew before I said a word," he said.
"I didn't know," she said. "I just never trust a toast from someone who will not drink first."
He laughed, took her hand, and kissed it in front of the last of the servants.
They were married in the spring. At the wedding feast, by the bride's own rule, every toast in the hall was drunk the northern way, with both cups raised and both cups emptied at the same moment. The court thought it a charming country custom.
Only a few of them understood exactly why.
