She gasped. “Are you saying CasimirbrokeMonty’s hand? I thought he hurt it in a sailing accident!”
I hesitated, wavering on the precipice of spilling all my secrets, and then—“No, of course not, Gwen, don’t be silly. I was only teasing.”
“Oh,” she breathed in relief, clutching at her chest. “For a moment there, I was worried your boyfriend was some sort of violent psychopath!”
Boyfriend, ugh. I grimaced, feeling both queasy and slightly impressed by my own capacity to lie to her.
Luckily, Gwen was too deep in her mirth to notice my unease.
“Thank the gods I like women,” she said with a laugh.
I raised another pillow over my head, prepared to hurl it at her, but my churlishness only elicited another round of giggles.
When she at last recovered, she said, “In Casimir’s defense, Prescott had it coming. And though you might shame me for saying it, I still think his determination to avenge your honor is kind of hot. I’m sorry, but there it is.”
I returned her jest with a weak smile.
I would run from him if I were you,the Book had warned.
“And anyways, he did send you that dress,” she reminded me, as if that made up for everything else. She shot me a knowing smirk. “Maybe you’ll have a chance to wear it to the Jewel Ball at the end of the month.”
My gaze snapped to her face. “What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes melodramatically. “Christ, Arden, I swear. You don’t know half of what goes on at this school.”
I grimaced at her poor choice of words.If she only knew.
“I told you about it weeks ago, remember? Anyway, a few of the Gilded families are throwing a benefit ball to raise money to build a new wing for the history department. As if this place is struggling for cash,” she added wryly. “In any case, it’s supposed to be a pretty swanky party with champagne and a string quartet and everything.”
I raised my brows. “Swanky?”
It was her turn to throw a pillow at me. I caught it before it connected with my face. “Yes,swanky. You have to come,” she insisted.
“Are you going to ask Neha Iyer to the ball?” I teased.
Gwen’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink to match her hair. “Absolutely not. She’s too beautiful. I can hardly speak around her.”
“Don’t be a coward,” I admonished her.
“Oh yeah? Cowardly am I?” she said, her smile mischievous. “Are you going to ask Casimir to be your date, then?”
It was my turn to flush with embarrassment. “Okay, okay. We’re both cowards,” I said.
We both laughed, somewhat sheepishly, until Gwen broke in, “How about this? I’ll ask Neha if you ask Casimir. Deal?”
I hesitated.
“Come on, Arden. Don’t be a chicken. For fuck’s sake, you know how to fence! You can ask a boy to go out with you.”
I couldn’t see a way out of this without looking like an even bigger coward. I sighed in resignation. “Deal.”
Gwen’s face split into a triumphant grin.
23
Iopened the door to find Casimir standing on the threshold of my dormitory, looking like some Byronic hero in his leather jacket, his raven hair flecked with droplets of rain, a soft smile gracing his lips. Gwen had left early to meet her study group in the library, and we were alone, which was fortunate, considering how flustered Casimir’s presence made me. We were supposed to train in the Grotto in an hour, and I’d just assumed I’d meet him there.
“Bad news,” he said in lieu of a greeting.