The visitors lined up outside the Black residence, waiting to pay their respects to my father, were the first to catch the scent of it.
One by one, they picked up their gifts and left.
"Does the eldest Miss Black still think the Blacks are the Boling Blacks of old? Marrying into House Vance was already above her station!"
"I only wanted to get close to General Vance through the Black family. Otherwise, who'd bother warming up to a house this cold?"
"Who does Norma Black think she is? All she has is a reputation as the capital's top literary lady. Other women would kill to marry General Vance, and she's been sitting on that betrothal for years. Now she breaks it off in public? Who is she trying to impress?"
"General Vance earned his glory young. A noble title is right around the corner. The Blacks are going to regret this until their guts turn green!"
...
I listened to all of it. My heart was still as dead water.
Gemma's little face flushed scarlet with rage. "They look down on you, Sister. They look down on our whole family..."
I patted her head. "Gemma, what other people think doesn't matter. What matters is that our family stays together, safe and sound."
Gemma sniffled.
Then her eyes lit up.
"Father!"
She threw herself into our father's arms the moment he stepped through the gate, still in his court robes.
The complaints poured out of her in a torrent: everything that happened at the city gate with Lester, every snide remark from every fair-weather visitor who'd turned tail and left.
I clutched the edge of my sleeve, unable to meet my father's eyes.
Not until I heard him ask, "Why don't you want to marry him?"
His tone was gentle. He didn't seem angry.
Only then did I dare speak. "I don't have feelings for him anymore."
It was the most straightforward reason I could think of.
I could hardly tell my father that I had married Lester Vance twice before.
That the first time, I fell from a cliff and died. That the second time, I lost my head on the executioner's block.
And that I had dragged the entire Black family down with me, every last one put to the sword.
He wouldn't believe me even if I told him. Better to say nothing.
My father studied me, brow furrowed. "Norma, you have never been reckless."
"There must be another reason."
"Since you won't say, I won't press."