The Glittering Court (17 page)

I could tell Jasper was having a very difficult time maintaining his genial façade. He turned to Warren. “Forgive me; it's clear this is a matter we must discuss at more length. Let us do so, and we'll be in touch once we've made some decisions.”

Warren looked hesitant about leaving with things up in the air but finally gave a conciliatory nod. “Very well then. I look forward to your reply—and an early meeting
before
the ball. Thank you again for indulging me in my unorthodox approach.”

As soon as the Thorns had walked him out, Jasper pulled Cedric into their private office and shut the door. The rest of us retreated to our wing, where I was immediately accosted with questions and comments. I had no answers to give, and the chatter soon began to make my head ache. It was a relief when I was able to shut myself in my room with Mira. She gave me a sly smile.

“Well,” she said. “That was certainly an exciting turn to the day.”

I stretched out on my bed, still reeling. “That's an understatement.”

“What will you do?” she asked.

“I don't think I can do anything. The Thorns will decide.”

She sat down beside me. “If you went downstairs right now and said you'd take the deal, there'd be no protest. Not even from Cedric.”

I straightened up. “Do you think I should?”

“It's not what I think that matters. But I know you've had your sights set high. And this is about as high as you can get.”

“It would certainly speak well for my future. I mean, that
is
what we're here for.” Although we didn't have to take the highest bidder's offer, a man putting down a lot of money generally suggested he had
the means to provide generously for his wife. It gave the Thorns a higher commission and also increased the bride's surety money. “Although . . . it was kind of presumptuous, coming in here like that, wanting to buy ‘the best' right now.”

Mira laughed. “It certainly was—though even he seemed to recognize that. There was a brazen and bumbling charm to it. At least he wasn't one of the ones asking if he could buy ‘the Sirminican' at a discount.”

I squeezed her hand. That was an offer we'd heard many times. “It was nice that he seemed more concerned with my character than my looks.”

“He already saw you. He doesn't have to worry about your looks.”

“But you wouldn't take the deal. You still want to pay off your own contract.”

She shrugged. “I told you, it's not about what I think. But no, I'd do as Cedric said and see the rest of my options. You can still choose him later.”

“Tamsin would've taken the deal,” I said sadly.

“Tamsin would've called for a priest and offered to marry him on the spot,” Mira said.

My heart sank. “Tamsin should have been the one getting the offer. She should have been the diamond.”

Word reached me later that Cedric had won out against his father: I wouldn't be meeting Warren until the ball. I suspected Jasper had caved in the hopes that, seeing me with other men, Warren might end up offering more. In the coming days, as the household was whipped into the frenzy Cedric had predicted, I found I had mixed feelings about what had happened with Warren. I respected what Cedric had fought for. On the other hand, I worried I might have cost Cedric the commission he needed. Really, what else was there to look for? Marrying Warren would put me in the closest position I could get to
my former lifestyle here in the colonies. Hadisen was in no danger from the Icori. It was simply unsettled land needing a society to thrive in it and work its gold mines.

Somehow, amidst the pre-ball tumult, I found a chance to finish the painting when Mistress Culpepper was away. A small window in the cellar offered remarkably good light, and stepping back one day, I was astonished that I really had captured Thodoros's style. It was my greatest work. An inexperienced buyer certainly wouldn't know any different. An art expert probably wouldn't.

The cellar door creaked open, and I turned with a start, relaxing when I saw Cedric come down the stairs. He stopped next to me and stared.

“That's it,” he said.

“That's it,” I confirmed.

“Amazing. I thought the poppies were incredible the day we met, but this . . . this is something else altogether.” He continued studying it, transfixed. “I'll smuggle this out of here tonight, over to my agent. He'll evaluate it and let me know what he thinks it'll get, but something tells me it'll be high. Enough to cover my Westhaven stake.”

“You know what else would've helped with your stake?” I asked archly. “A twenty percent commission on one thousand gold.”

Cedric turned from the painting and met my eyes. “Really? You came all this way and prepared for a season of galas only to skip them and marry the first man who wants you? Without even meeting him?”

“I would've met him eventually,” I argued. “And I never said that's what I want. I'm just surprised you've taken such a stand. I thought securing an offer like that was top priority.”

“Securing your self-respect is top priority. I didn't bring you into the Glittering Court so that you could be packed off to the first man who demands you.”

“Hey,” I retorted. “I brought myself into the Glittering Court.”

“You're confirming my point. You're too strong, too opinionated, to just let yourself go with the first offer. You deserve more. You
deserve to have them lined up in front of you. Maybe you'll want him after all, and that's completely fine—even if it results in a lower fee. Or maybe you'll like some other man. Maybe a few other men. Maybe there'll be a bidding war. Maybe someone will beat his offer.”

“Maybe . . . but I find that last one unlikely. And I bet your father thinks it's unlikely too.”

Cedric's sighed. “He does. The substantial sum aside, he thought it best we get you signed and engaged before you open your mouth and ruin your chances—his words, not mine.”

“What?” I said, not even bothering to hide my indignation. “We'll see about that. There are going to be plenty of men who like a woman who speaks her mind.”

“I agree. I certainly like your mouth.” Cedric suddenly seemed to reconsider his words. “Er, that's not what I— Look. I just want you to have all your options. You deserve that.”

“And I want you to stay alive.”

“Me too.” He turned back to the painting and sighed. “And between this, your charms, and a little luck, we might just pull it all off.”

Chapter 14

The days to the opening ball somehow managed to fly by . . . and yet feel endlessly long.

I still grieved for Tamsin, but the pre-ball frenzy allowed me to keep those dark feelings at bay. This was what everything in the Glittering Court had been building up to. It wasn't unheard-of for girls to make marriage deals on that first night. Others would go through the season assessing and accruing offers.

“I just want to get out of this house,” Mira said when the day finally came. “We're here in the biggest, most cosmopolitan city of the New World but haven't seen any of it!”

I thought of the ramshackle houses and muddy roads we'd passed on our first day. “I think ‘cosmopolitan' might be an exaggeration.”

“We only saw the harbor. The city's center is entirely different. Lively and busy and full of wonders.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Word of mouth.”

I paced in front of the large mirror in our bedroom, a luxury in Adoria. We'd been outfitted for hours and were now waiting for the call to get in the coaches. Mistress Culpepper had wanted no last-minute wardrobe surprises.

Mira and I stood in stark contrast to each other. I wore silk of brilliant white, just like a bride. Silver lace peeped around the low neckline and spilled from the elbow-length sleeves. Tiny crystals—echoing diamonds—decorated the bodice in a filigree pattern and then spilled
across the overdress's skirts like stars. Actual diamonds hung from my neck and ears, coming from a shared collection of jewelry used each year. Elaborate, often colored, wigs were fashionable in Adoria, but both Miss Bradley and Mistress Culpepper had been adamant I not wear any.

“Keeping with your theme would put you in white or gray,” Mistress Culpepper had explained. “We don't want that. We need to show you as young and vibrant.”

“It'll make you look more Osfridian for this first event, which isn't a bad thing,” added Miss Bradley. “We want to be part of this society, obviously, but it's important you represent the Old World too—which is, of course, the pinnacle of fashion and culture.”

So part of my hair was pulled up in the Adorian way, with the rest of it cascading in long curls in the Osfridian way. Strands of crystals had been woven into my hair, and everywhere I turned, I sparkled.

Mira's dress, also of silk, was a deep bloodred with a lower neckline than mine. The skirt opened in the front, revealing a ruffled black petticoat, a highly unusual color choice that had made Mistress Culpepper raise an eyebrow. The seamstresses in Osfrid had insisted it would look striking with the rest of the outfit—and they were right. Multifaceted beads of sparkling jet trimmed her neckline and sleeves, rather than the usual lace. Her hair, worn down, was adorned with a matching black crystal band from which hung strands of deep red hair that mingled seamlessly with her natural black. With Mira's rank unexpectedly moved up, the Glittering Court's heads were trying to pass her off as a ruby, rather than a garnet, now.

Mira came to stand with me in the mirror and smoothed the red locks with a frown. “Do you think these are real? Am I wearing some other woman's hair?”

“Does it matter when you look so stunning?” I asked.

Mira's expression told me it
did
matter, but she didn't pursue the topic. “Good luck,” she said. “Not that you'll need it. You've already got an offer.”

“You'll have plenty too,” I assured her, my mind wandering to Warren. I'd been so uncertain that first day, wondering if I should have taken the deal. Now, I'd had more time to think, and I was glad Cedric had intervened. I wanted my options, even if it meant I might have sacrificed an unheard-of payment.

A call outside the door told us it was time to go. We squeezed each other's hands—no hugs, as that might wrinkle the dresses—and hurried to join the others. They too were a bright, sparkling array of jewels, some with natural hair like me and others with colored wigs. Clara wore a sunflower-yellow one that I thought looked kind of awful. Mistress Culpepper and Miss Bradley gave us one more inspection.

“Remember,” said Miss Bradley. “Keep powdering—don't let your makeup run or turn greasy.”

“And,” added Mistress Culpepper sharply, “behave pristinely the entire night. I do not expect to see any of you frequenting the wine or punch.”

Extra servants, guards, and carriages had been hired for this trip. We were put two to a coach in order to leave enough room for our dresses. Temporary maids came along in another carriage, ready to help any of us who need primping at the ball. Still another carriage was loaded with extra dresses, wigs, and jewelry, should an emergency occur. I didn't see the Thorns but knew they would be coming in their own carriage.

It being early evening, we could still see out the windows, and both Mira and I studied our surroundings eagerly. We passed other houses, none so big as ours, and I was again struck by the newness and jumbled layout. In Osfrid, even in a rural area like this with lots of land, each home's plot would be precisely laid out with clear boundaries, often with small stone walls to separate them. Everything would be claimed. Here, it was as though people had built at random and didn't seem to care about ownership. And of course, there were trees. Always trees.

They thinned out a little as we reached the heart of Cape Triumph,
and here, I found Mira was right. Cobblestones covered the narrow roads, and the buildings were higher, with a greater sense of permanence. Shops of all kinds lined the streets, as well as places of entertainment—some looking more reputable than others. With evening approaching, brightly colored lanterns lit up the doorways. Groups of people moved through the street, displaying a diverse variety of backgrounds as they came home from work or sought evening entertainment. Most were dressed humbly or showed signs of the middle class. But obviously affluent citizens walked right among them with no indication there was anything unusual. And rich or poor, many seemed to make their own fashion choices, defying both Adorian and Osfridian customs. The populace was exotic and lively and impossible to look away from. In keeping with Adorian demographics, the majority of those I saw were men.

“I would love to get out and explore this,” said Mira.

“I don't think Mistress Culpepper would approve.” The streets didn't look unsafe, exactly, but it was certainly no place any of us would be allowed to go alone—especially after some of the behavior I'd observed at the docks. I pointed toward a man standing on a corner, wearing a deep green uniform. “Hey, a soldier. That's the first I've seen. I'd think there'd be more.”

Mira followed my gaze. “They're around. But not as many as there used to be, now that most outside threats are gone.”

“Then who keeps order inside? The militia?” I asked. Cape Triumph had no official city guard as Osfro did. The military was usually charged with primary law enforcement in the colonies, with the rest delegated to volunteer and locally organized groups.

“Them. Other agents of the crown. Pirates.”

“Aren't pirates, by definition, breaking the law?”

“Not always. Haven't you heard how some of them walk the streets and help people in danger?” Mira's face was alight, caught up in the heroic drama she loved.

“No. When did
you
hear that?”

“I talk to the guards sometimes. It's more interesting than listening to all the visiting suitors.”

“Oh. You mean the visiting suitors who'll play an influential role in your future?”

“Those are the ones,” she answered with a grin.

Our destination was a vast hall on the opposite side of downtown. It was large, wooden, and plain, nothing at all like the grand ballrooms of Osfrid that were housed in ancient estates and castles. But this was apparently the largest place for a social function, and as we took in the crowds and guests gathered out front, I hoped it would be big enough to hold everyone. Our carriages traveled to a back door so that we could enter in private.

We gathered in an antechamber inside and were subjected to another inspection as Mistress Culpepper made sure our dresses and hairstyles had survived the journey. I spotted the Thorns huddled together, joined by a tall woman I'd never seen before. At first, I thought she was Sirminican, with her black hair and dusky complexion. But there was something about her that was different, the set of her high cheekbones and a general sense of . . . otherness. Her outfit, though made of nice fabric, resembled a riding dress with split skirts. It seemed out of place here, as did her hair, lying in one long braid down her back. That wasn't fashionable anywhere.

I turned back and started to say something to Mira about it when I discovered that Cedric had come up beside us. His hands were in the pockets of a long, fitted knee-length coat of a steel-blue damask that enhanced his gray eyes. I'd never seen him in that color and was struck by the effect. It set off the auburn of his hair and could have easily passed him off as Osfridian nobility. Except that I'd never met any noble who made me suddenly feel so flushed and warm.

I realized then that Cedric was staring at me too and that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't the only one feeling flushed. “You clean up well,” I said.

“So . . . do you.”

“Like you've ever seen me
not
clean up well.”

“Well, I've seen you when you're . . .” He stopped, realizing Mira was here. “. . . when you're in less elaborate outfits. Like that, uh, one time.”

“Of course you'd bring that up.” I took a bold step toward him and twirled to show off the decadence of the dress. “But this
is
a serious improvement. It's like a dream. Not so much that
other
outfit.”

“Well . . .” He looked me over in a way that made my blush deepen. “I guess it depends on the type of dream.”

Mira cleared her throat and asked, “Is everything okay with your family? I thought I saw you and your father arguing earlier.”

That seemed to pull him back to the present, and he finally looked away from me. “Just more of our usual dysfunction. We were ‘discussing' who'd do Adelaide's introductions. He wanted to, but I argued it should be me, as you're my . . . acquisition.” It was a term he'd always used freely in the past, but he stumbled over it tonight.

“And?” I prompted.

“I won.”

I grinned. “When don't you?”

A rueful look crossed his face. “Well, it's on the condition that you meet Warren Doyle first. So long as I arrange that, my father's fine with everything else.”

After we made our grand procession in the room, interested suitors would approach Glittering Court representatives to arrange dances and conversations with us. It was to prevent us from being mobbed.

“Are you making mine too?” asked Mira.

Cedric shook his head and gestured to the tall woman. “Aiana is.”

Mira studied the woman curiously. “Who is she?”

“She's Balanquan,” he said. “Does various jobs for us.”

Mira and I exchanged astonished looks. The Balanquan people, like the Icori, had been in Adoria when Osfridians and others from across the Sunset Sea had arrived. There had been no wars or territorial disputes with the Balanquans as there had with the Icori. This was
partially due to their northern lands being less hospitable and partially because they made a more formidable enemy than the less advanced Icori. Their culture was supposed to be sophisticated and rich—albeit very foreign from ours.

“What is she doing here?” asked Mira. The Balanquans had attempted some arbitration for the Icori and Osfridians but mostly stayed away from us.

“Uncle Charles contracts her,” Cedric explained. “Usually, her job is following up with girls after they've married. If she sees anything amiss or any bad treatment, she . . . deals with it.”

Before we could ask for more details, Mistress Culpepper called us into formation to make our grand entrance. Just as before, I would lead. My hands began to shake with nervousness, and I fiercely fought for control. I'd been announced and entered alone in countless parties back in Osfrid. I was no stranger to crowds or displays, unlike many of the other girls. They might have completed their training, they might look the part of nobility, but what we were about to do was beyond what many of them had ever experienced. Some were pale, others trembling.

Mistress Culpepper told me to go. I wished I could see Mira and get one last look of encouragement, but she was in line behind me and out of sight. Then, I caught sight of Cedric standing near the door. He met my eyes and nodded. I stepped forward.

“Adelaide Bailey, diamond,” someone announced.

The hall might have been simple in nature, but the Thorns had gone to a lot of expense and labor to convince the guests otherwise. Flowers and candles, linen and crystal . . . if not for the rough wooden walls and exposed beams above, this could have passed for an affair back home. A walkway had been cleared through the room for us to proceed to a raised dais on the opposite side. Guests lined the aisle, orderly and quiet, with none of the coarseness from the docks. These were the elite of Adoria, well-dressed, with wineglasses in hand as they studied us politely. Women were mingled in the crowd: mothers hoping to help their sons, or society ladies who were simply curious.

I walked smoothly, serenely. I was the best of the Glittering Court. I was the new nobility
and
the old nobility, the descendant of Osfrid's founders. Soon, I would take my place with Adoria's founders. This was what all my struggles and manipulation had been for. As diamond, I would meet the city's most elite. I would attend the most exclusive functions. And I would pull in the highest price—and commission—ever seen by any of the Thorns' jewels.

I reached the dais, where one of Jasper's hired men helped me ascend the steps in my elaborate dress. I took my place at the center of a long table, which held glasses of water. Mistress Culpepper wouldn't allow us to eat here, so we'd had to do it beforehand. Although the next girl was making her entrance, I saw many eyes still on me, and I met them as confidently as Osfrid's queen might have.