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Circe barely had a mont to recover from her reaction before Elara nudged her elbow lightly.

"Don’t stare too long," she warned in a playful whisper. "Lady Cecilia can sense judgnt from anywhere and she never appreciates it."

"Especially when she isn’t the one giving it," Mina added primly. It was a good thing that no one else sat at the table with them.

Circe bit back a smile and lifted her cup to her lips. "Noted."

Before Mina could launch into another whispered thread of gossip, the soft footsteps approached the table in front of theirs. A maid dipped into a graceful curtsey, her hands clasped neatly in front of her.

"Ladies," she said softly, "Lord Heinrey wishes to remind everyone that the archery demonstration will begin shortly."

Heinrey was the owner of the property and Elara’s husband.

The faces of the won seated at the nearby table brightened instantly.

"Ah, wonderful. I was hoping they’d planned sothing engaging," one of them said, her voice carrying clearly across the small space. The other ladies nodded vigorously, eager for entertainnt.

Elara turned to Circe with a wry smile. "Have you ever watched Lamorian nobles attempt to fire an arrow? It’s like watching a play with bad actors. They’re terribly dramatic about the whole thing."

Mina huffed. "Elara is terribly dramatic. The rest of us are quite talented at it."

Elara waved a lazy hand. "Please. You nearly shot at the judge last year."

"That was intentional," Mina muttered, lifting her chin.

Circe smiled, finding their familiar bickering unexpectedly comforting.

"We noblewon might be inept with a bow," Elara continued, leaning closer conspiratorially, "but you’ll find most of us are quite proficient with a knife."

Circe blinked, unsure how seriously to take that last remark. Elara straightened again with an innocent expression as if she hadn’t said anything alarming in the slightest.

Mina drew in a dramatic breath, clearly ready to continue wherever her gossip had left off, but Elara placed a gentle but firm hand over her wrist.

"Before you start another scandalous tale," Elara said, "have either of you tried the lemon tarts? They’re divine. I’ve already had three."

Mina looked scandalized. "Three? Elara, honestly. You claim to have restraint, but you’re worse than I am."

"Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t been eyeing the pastries since we arrived," Elara shot back, pursing her lips.

Mina lifted her chin haughtily. "I was simply admiring their presentation. You shouldn’t display pastries so beautifully if you don’t want people to look."

"You were admiring them with longing," Elara countered. "You were one breath away from devouring half the tray."

Mina swatted her arm. "You can be insufferable."

Her glare held for all of two seconds before her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

"Well," she huffed, "if you insist on provoking , then I suppose I have no choice but to fetch the tarts myself."

She rose with exaggerated primness, smoothing her skirts with both hands before gliding toward the refreshnt tables, though Circe noted the faint quickness of her steps that revealed her eagerness.

Elara watched her go. "She’ll bring back six," she said confidently. "Just watch."

A few minutes later, Mina returned triumphantly with a plate piled so high it caused Elara’s brows to inch higher in surprise.

"Mina," Elara said, torn between awe and horror, "I stand corrected. You didn’t bring six. You brought far more than it."

Mina set the plate down delicately, as though afraid the tower of tarts might collapse under its own ambition. "Eight," she corrected pointedly. "I ate the ninth on my way back as a reward for my efforts."

Elara shook her head. "You’re hopeless."

"No," Mina said proudly, nudging the plate toward Circe, "I’m generous. Try one, Your Highness. You’ll love them. They’re impossible to resist."

Circe reached for a tart, her fingers brushing Mina’s briefly. The touch was warm and friendly and it startled her how easily she had begun to relax in their presence.

She took a bite. The taste filled her mouth, tangy and sweet all at once, the flavor bursting pleasantly on her tongue. She took another bite, and then another, only realizing she had finished the tart when she found herself reaching automatically for a second.

"They’re perfect," Circe said, already taking her next bite.

Mina and Elara exchanged a triumphant look.

"And so," Elara announced grandly, "our conquest begins."

Circe arched a brow. "Conquest?"

Mina giggled. "We’re deciding which pastries you’ll beco hopelessly addicted to."

Circe swallowed her bite. "Is that so?"

"Oh, absolutely," Elara replied. "We’ve already accepted responsibility for your social survival. Your dessert preferences are simply the next step."

"What sort of activities do you enjoy during your leisure ti, Your Highness?" Mina asked as she expertly steered the conversation, her expression open and coaxing.

"I keep a journal full of sketches," Circe answered, surprised by how naturally the truth ca. "Whenever I’m bored, I take it out and add more."

Mina’s face lit instantly. "I would love to see so of your sketches one day, though I’m not much of an artist. I’m more knowledgeable when it cos to works of literature."

"Mina here," Elara cut in, tone lilting with mischief, "is a great lover of the classics."

There was sothing in the way she said it, an implication Circe didn’t yet understand, but clearly Mina did. Mina shot her friend a sharp warning glare.

Which only confird that Circe had indeed missed sothing.

Soon, it ca ti for the archery event. As soon as its comncent was announced, several ladies rose from their seats and stepped out from beneath the shade of the canopy.

They made their way farther down the lawn to where flat wooden targets had been set up in a neat row, each painted with bold concentric circles. The rest of the guests remained scattered beneath the canopies or stood along the trimd hedges, content to watch from a comfortable distance.

It was both awkward and entertaining to witness so many of the ladies struggle to make a straight shot. Most held their bows with an air of confidence that lasted only until the arrow actually left the string. Yet none of them seed to take the competition seriously. Much like the other leisurely contests arranged for the garden party, this too was simply another diversion, sothing light, harmless, and amusing for the guests to participate in.

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