The Glittering Court
Page 44
“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.
“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.
