Midnight Jewel
Page 36
“We can do this, Adelaide.”
“You’re so strong,” she said.
Then why was I the one too afraid to show how I felt?
We gathered on deck with the other passengers, and Miss Bradley gave us a brief reminder of what to expect. The captain had already raised a flag as we neared Cape Triumph, one that residents would recognize as the Glittering Court’s. Every year, potential suitors and curious gawkers would gather at the piers to watch us disembark. Jasper, ever the showman, turned it into a big procession, building up the drama and glamour to make sure we were a sensation the moment we literally set foot in Adoria. I hated him for making us do it, and yet, some small, detached part of me understood his reasoning. He was here to conduct business. My companions and I were here to find advantageous marriages. Trudging off the ship in black, with heads hung low, wasn’t really a promising start to that venture.
The shore grew closer and closer. Cape Triumph sat just inside the tip of a piece of land that curled around Denham Bay. Its inner location offered the port city some protection from storms but still kept it easily accessible to ships sailing in from across the sea or along the coast. It was one of the oldest and most important ports in the Osfridian colonies, but the collection of houses, churches, and commercial buildings coming into view seemed like they’d hardly made a dent in that wild coastline. Great forests surrounded it, both towering evergreens and deciduous trees still leafless from the winter. It reminded me of the mountain ranges in northern Sirminica: miles and miles of nature in its purest, hardiest form. This wilderness looked invincible, as though no human hands could ever tame it. But, I supposed, Osfrid had once looked that way too.
I wasn’t surprised when Grant materialized beside me in that way he had. With everyone in the crowd so transfixed by Adoria, no one noticed him seeking me out.
“Mirabel—”
“I know, I know,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the coastline. “And don’t worry. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll still do what you need me to.”
He stayed quiet for so long that I had to glance over and make sure he hadn’t left. “That’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to say . . . I’m sorry. And to tell you to be careful about carrying another ghost.”
“You think I should forget my friend?”
“No. I think you shouldn’t forget that you’re still alive.”
He melted into the other passengers, and I felt a brief pang of envy. People complicate things. They can be dangerous if you get attached to them. He’d told me that in our first real talk, and I’d been dismissive. Now, I understood what he meant. Losing Lonzo and Tamsin wouldn’t hurt as much if I didn’t love them. But my life would be so much emptier without that love.
Miss Bradley strode up, clapping her hands for emphasis. “Girls, girls. Let’s get ready. We’ll be the first ones off once the ship is secured.”
The Good Hope glided nearer the pier. This side of Denham Bay boasted smooth, easy waters for ships to dock, again adding to Cape Triumph’s ideal placement. The bay’s far side flanked other colonial territories and was much less hospitable. Its shallow and rocky water allowed smaller boats to get in but nothing like our ship.
I found myself squeezing Adelaide’s hand again as the sailors carefully maneuvered the ship and began throwing ropes to the wharf. I’d spent so much of the past few years trying to blend in that the sight of all those people watching and waiting for us on shore was more intimidating than the untamed city and wilderness behind them. Once securely tied, we had to wait for port officials to come aboard and talk to the captain. Customs officers followed them to begin their arduous inventorying, and before I knew it, we were ushered off to the shore and lined up.
After so much time at sea, solid ground felt nearly as disorienting as the rocking deck once had. Miss Bradley lined us up by rank, and Adelaide went first, bravely taking up that conspicuous position. Amelia, a girl from the other manor, came after her. And then Miss Bradley summoned me.
“Why are you putting me third?” I asked.
Her face was grim. “Because you are third now. Nearly everyone else above you was on the Gray Gull.”
The top three. What Tamsin had most coveted. I met Adelaide’s eyes and had to look away from the anguish I saw in them. Because if I looked at her too long, I was going to have to acknowledge my own pain. And if I did, I didn’t know how long I could keep my hardened façade.
“Adelaide, you need to go now,” said Miss Bradley, not unkindly.
Adelaide threw her shoulders back and lifted her head high as she stepped forward. The transformation was remarkable. One would never have guessed that her heart was broken or that she was being paraded off like some prize animal at market. She walked—no, glided—with a regality that seemed to embody the new nobility the Thorns were always going on and on about. She acted as though this type of display was nothing to her, like she’d done it her entire life.
Inspired by Adelaide’s example, I fell into step behind Amelia. It was hard to keep looking straight ahead—not so much out of fear as curiosity. I wanted to study this new world and its people. The glimpses I stole showed a variety far surpassing everything I’d expected. Dignified citizens in velvet and silk. Rough-and-tumble folk in worn jackets and beaver hats. Men, women, children. I’d seen hangings in Osfro that drew less attention than we did—and those were pretty popular spectacles.
And a few in this group—the less mannered, at least—didn’t hesitate to share their thoughts about us. Leers, vulgar remarks. Propositions. Some comments were directed toward our group as a whole. One woman referred to us as the “Glittering Harlots.” Other onlookers singled us out. Amelia, ahead of me, was easily visible with her auburn hair, and I saw her flinch over one particularly lewd comment about “that ginger.” I, of course, was also conspicuous as the “Sirminican girl”—though “girl” wasn’t always the word they used.
“You’re so strong,” she said.
Then why was I the one too afraid to show how I felt?
We gathered on deck with the other passengers, and Miss Bradley gave us a brief reminder of what to expect. The captain had already raised a flag as we neared Cape Triumph, one that residents would recognize as the Glittering Court’s. Every year, potential suitors and curious gawkers would gather at the piers to watch us disembark. Jasper, ever the showman, turned it into a big procession, building up the drama and glamour to make sure we were a sensation the moment we literally set foot in Adoria. I hated him for making us do it, and yet, some small, detached part of me understood his reasoning. He was here to conduct business. My companions and I were here to find advantageous marriages. Trudging off the ship in black, with heads hung low, wasn’t really a promising start to that venture.
The shore grew closer and closer. Cape Triumph sat just inside the tip of a piece of land that curled around Denham Bay. Its inner location offered the port city some protection from storms but still kept it easily accessible to ships sailing in from across the sea or along the coast. It was one of the oldest and most important ports in the Osfridian colonies, but the collection of houses, churches, and commercial buildings coming into view seemed like they’d hardly made a dent in that wild coastline. Great forests surrounded it, both towering evergreens and deciduous trees still leafless from the winter. It reminded me of the mountain ranges in northern Sirminica: miles and miles of nature in its purest, hardiest form. This wilderness looked invincible, as though no human hands could ever tame it. But, I supposed, Osfrid had once looked that way too.
I wasn’t surprised when Grant materialized beside me in that way he had. With everyone in the crowd so transfixed by Adoria, no one noticed him seeking me out.
“Mirabel—”
“I know, I know,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the coastline. “And don’t worry. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll still do what you need me to.”
He stayed quiet for so long that I had to glance over and make sure he hadn’t left. “That’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to say . . . I’m sorry. And to tell you to be careful about carrying another ghost.”
“You think I should forget my friend?”
“No. I think you shouldn’t forget that you’re still alive.”
He melted into the other passengers, and I felt a brief pang of envy. People complicate things. They can be dangerous if you get attached to them. He’d told me that in our first real talk, and I’d been dismissive. Now, I understood what he meant. Losing Lonzo and Tamsin wouldn’t hurt as much if I didn’t love them. But my life would be so much emptier without that love.
Miss Bradley strode up, clapping her hands for emphasis. “Girls, girls. Let’s get ready. We’ll be the first ones off once the ship is secured.”
The Good Hope glided nearer the pier. This side of Denham Bay boasted smooth, easy waters for ships to dock, again adding to Cape Triumph’s ideal placement. The bay’s far side flanked other colonial territories and was much less hospitable. Its shallow and rocky water allowed smaller boats to get in but nothing like our ship.
I found myself squeezing Adelaide’s hand again as the sailors carefully maneuvered the ship and began throwing ropes to the wharf. I’d spent so much of the past few years trying to blend in that the sight of all those people watching and waiting for us on shore was more intimidating than the untamed city and wilderness behind them. Once securely tied, we had to wait for port officials to come aboard and talk to the captain. Customs officers followed them to begin their arduous inventorying, and before I knew it, we were ushered off to the shore and lined up.
After so much time at sea, solid ground felt nearly as disorienting as the rocking deck once had. Miss Bradley lined us up by rank, and Adelaide went first, bravely taking up that conspicuous position. Amelia, a girl from the other manor, came after her. And then Miss Bradley summoned me.
“Why are you putting me third?” I asked.
Her face was grim. “Because you are third now. Nearly everyone else above you was on the Gray Gull.”
The top three. What Tamsin had most coveted. I met Adelaide’s eyes and had to look away from the anguish I saw in them. Because if I looked at her too long, I was going to have to acknowledge my own pain. And if I did, I didn’t know how long I could keep my hardened façade.
“Adelaide, you need to go now,” said Miss Bradley, not unkindly.
Adelaide threw her shoulders back and lifted her head high as she stepped forward. The transformation was remarkable. One would never have guessed that her heart was broken or that she was being paraded off like some prize animal at market. She walked—no, glided—with a regality that seemed to embody the new nobility the Thorns were always going on and on about. She acted as though this type of display was nothing to her, like she’d done it her entire life.
Inspired by Adelaide’s example, I fell into step behind Amelia. It was hard to keep looking straight ahead—not so much out of fear as curiosity. I wanted to study this new world and its people. The glimpses I stole showed a variety far surpassing everything I’d expected. Dignified citizens in velvet and silk. Rough-and-tumble folk in worn jackets and beaver hats. Men, women, children. I’d seen hangings in Osfro that drew less attention than we did—and those were pretty popular spectacles.
And a few in this group—the less mannered, at least—didn’t hesitate to share their thoughts about us. Leers, vulgar remarks. Propositions. Some comments were directed toward our group as a whole. One woman referred to us as the “Glittering Harlots.” Other onlookers singled us out. Amelia, ahead of me, was easily visible with her auburn hair, and I saw her flinch over one particularly lewd comment about “that ginger.” I, of course, was also conspicuous as the “Sirminican girl”—though “girl” wasn’t always the word they used.
