21: Quirille

Quirille knew she was acting childlike, not like a lady of twenty. But she detested Robion Vaillancourt, so she'd feigned a headache to avoid dancing with the fat, arrogant nobleman. She suspected he wasn't gallant enough to remain with her, and she was right.

As she wandered the garden, her skirt snagged on a twig, generating a string of exceedingly unladylike curses.

"Can I help, milady?"

She turned, tearing her skirt, and saw a handsome man with a mop of blond curls. "Not until we've been introduced," she said, blushing.

"Pardon me. Maze Olivier, Lord Grey's protégé, at your service."