"I wish to discuss the possibility of an appointment, yes. You come very highly recommended." He shoots Eloise a glance of are you absolutely sure about this?

She nods, completely confident in her choice.

“I do?” The wizard frowns. They must have been speaking with Colin. 

He remembers to act flattered. “Well, I am certainly… honoured.”

This is quite a big deal. Ambrose has been thinking that maybe it’s time to leave Silvermoon and enter the real world, now that he is, to quote his brother, a ‘big boy wizard.’ This might be a decent opportunity – court wizard to the man who is practically Archduke.

So why does he smell a fish?

“Um– perhaps we could set up some sort of official meeting. I am free on Thursday, I believe.”

"Thursday it shall be. We can discuss the terms of homage - it should not be too much to interfere with your attendance in Silvermoon, should you desire it."

He knows about Silvermoon? Yeah, they’ve definitely been talking to Colin.

“Of course. You, ah… you have my thanks.” He bows his head. “Your Grace. Miss Bridgerton.”

Ambrose dashes off to catch up with his family.

She grins at Voltur. “You are most welcome.”

"Thank you," he says with considerable dryness, but he can't help but let a smile play about his lips. "I don't suppose you could tell me who exactly that was, could you, Eloise?" He grins at her. 

She might be dreading it, but honestly he was expecting to end up married to someone far more objectionable, for the country's sake. 

“That is Ambrose Deneith, one of my brother Colin’s friends. Silvermoon wizard. Cries at every wedding, so I do believe that is the ‘heart of gold’ part covered.” She answers, heading back to the beaten path with Voltur before her family start questioning what she’s doing again.

A distraction is good. It’s easier to ignore the whispers now, from every direction as they promenade in the light of the sun.

He frowns. "He also needs to possess discretion and a good deal of sound judgement - well. Of all the nobles I have met, Eloise, I trust you most, so I suppose that will have to do." He sighs. "In truth I- I confess, I considered destroying the egg on the spot when I found it, or at least leaving it to languish and perish where it was. But the thought struck me that that was precisely what the dragon would have done. i only hope it does not prove our undoing."

He is rapidly realising that he has no idea how to pursue any courtship, let alone such a reluctant one. 

"Your brother - will you tell me of him? It occurs to me that my opinion of him has been coloured only by the, ah, incident."

“Um. Which one? I have four,” she responds, gesturing with her head to Anthony and Benedict, both immersed in their own conversations. “If you mean Colin, he is rather sweet, I suppose, but do not tell him I said so. He has recently come back from his grand tour, and will simply not shut up about it.”

He shakes his head. "I am sorry. In all the excitement I have thought mostly of your eldest brother - it was him I spoke of." He's not sure that's actually the aristocrat way to say it, but, well, he's survived so far. "But I ought to meet Colin. It will be refreshing to meet someone who has ventured outside the bounds of polite society."

Eloise’s face sours. “I do not wish to speak of Anthony at the moment.”

She is very pretty when she pouts.

"I wholeheartedly sympathise." That's two big fancy words in a row, that has to be worth some points. "It is a shame what the ton makes of good men - I thought of this when I read," listened to, "your pamphlet - ah, I apologise, you said you did not wish to speak of it."

She sighs, far too stressed out for a girl her age. “My heart races every time I wonder what the Queen might have to say. Have you truly not heard from her yet?”

He glances from left to right. They are alone. 

And what he's about to say is not, technically, treason. 

"Will you swear by everything you truly hold dear not to repeat what I am about to say?"

Eloise blinks, taken aback by his sudden seriousness – but she nods, loyal to the core. This is her probable future husband, after all. “Of course. I swear.”

"Wizards are... almost by definition, not normal people, in any sense of the word. In many ways that is well. But- for that same reason, they also tend not to be predictable, and the Queen is an extremely powerful wizard - my guess from what histories survive is that most wizards of her power and... inclination to rule... become sorcerer-kings soaked in the blood of nations. If Her Majesty deigns to intervene - and I am hopeful that she will, the very fact that she bothered to read on shows that she is deeply impressed - it will likely be by some bizarre scheme when the thought strikes her, which may be weeks or months from now. Or she may do any of a dozen other things. I knew something of this, but... it somehow did not occur to me that she would manage the ton in the same way that she did everything else, until I had occasion to think of it." He shrugs apologetically. "I think... what you did is a very significant blow for the lot of women in the ton, but far from a decisive factor. I think once we have resolved our immediate issue, we ought to essay other plans as well."

Eloise falls quiet, listening intently for what might be the first time in her life.

“I should very much like to be a wizard,” she confesses softly.

His brow wrinkles. "Then why can you not - ah. Yes. What you told me of the ton. Apologies. Well. I suppose if anyone could emerge with their mind intact, it would be you. Hmm. The Silvermoon Academy is supposed to be practically unreachable, but I shall send out messengers or some such thing. I am sure I will have something they want. Having it accepted by the ton is another matter - though I suppose if we do have to marry, it will in the end be my decision to make." His face wrinkles in distaste. "I am amazed the other women of the ton tolerate this. I really had no idea."

“…What? Messengers to… Silvermoon? For– my sake?” 

Truly, she has always envied Ambrose his place there. But this is just a fancy. Nothing more, surely.

Voltur has a way of making her world feel so much bigger than it is.

He stares at her as though she's grown a second head. "Yes. Of course. I hardly think I have the aptitude for it. If in the final extremity we were to be married, none could question my sending you there, and we should certainly have the means to do so."

“Sister.” He approaches, sparing Voltur a short glance. “I am afraid it is time to take our leave.”

Eloise looks to her… intended?, whispering fast before her brother can hear. “I shall see you on Thursday. We may speak more then.”

There is a fire of grim determination in her eyes. She will sneak out if she must, and face the consequences later. There is no chance of ruining her reputation any further, at least.

He nods blandly to Lord Bridgerton, sparing Eloise the tiniest ghost of a wink to show he heard. "Viscount Bridgerton. I hope that you have enjoyed your promenade."