The Glittering Court
Page 60
She rolled her eyes. “I got trapped in conversation by one of those men who wanted to know if he could get a ‘deal’ on me.”
I studied her carefully. Her tone and expression seemed honest enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding something back.
The next day, we found out that Caroline had finalized a contract, bringing our numbers down further. Jasper, though excited by the progress, felt the need to give the rest of us a pep talk.
“Although your contract gives you three months to choose,” he said at breakfast, “it rarely takes any girl that long. Most are settled in a month’s time. I’d be very surprised if the rest of you didn’t have many offers at the festival tomorrow night.” His gaze lingered on me the longest. “Very surprised.”
The Flower Festival, dedicated to the glorious angels Aviel and Ramiel, was the biggest spring holiday in the Osfridian calendar. It coincided with the Alanzan Spring Rites, and there was some controversy over the holiday’s true nature. Devotees of Uros claimed the heretics had taken the traditional holiday and corrupted its veneration of healing and pure love by adding in worship of the wayward angels Alanziel and Lisiel. The Alanzans believed it was an ancient celebration of passion and fertility and that the orthodox worshippers had sanitized it.
Regardless, it was second only to Vaiel’s Day as our most celebrated holiday. Elaborate parties and banquets were commonplace, even here in Cape Triumph. We’d be at the large town hall again, in a splendid ball paid for by the governor and several other politicians. Even the engaged girls were going. Jasper claimed he didn’t want them to miss out, but I suspected he wanted to show off the girls with their fiancés to any undecided men. The gala would have a masquerade theme, which was common in Osfrid, less so here. Mistress Culpepper hadn’t been prepared for that and had to hastily make the necessary arrangements.
As usual, her “hasty” work was meticulous, no matter her grumbling. I had a delicate half-mask of silver filigree adorned with crystals. It was more of an enhancement than a true mask, since Jasper wanted us readily identifiable. The mask was the perfect accompaniment to my gown, an off-the-shoulder vision of white satin embellished with silver roses and ribbons.
“You know,” Mira told me slyly, adjusting her own glittering red half-mask, “the tradition of masquerades goes back to the Alanzans conducting Spring Rites in masks. They put on masks of leaves and flowers, or dress like animals of the forest. Men and women dance without even knowing who their partner is.”
I hadn’t seen Cedric all day but had heard him speaking about the ball, which I assumed meant he’d be skipping any Alanzan rites— unless he’d be joining them extremely late. Had he ever participated, I wondered? And to what extent? The whole notion of dancing with a mysterious partner was pagan and improper, of course, but after the Star Advent, I felt a flush spread over me as I thought about him pulling me against him in some dark, wild place.
We entered the hall amidst much fanfare, and I was impressed to see it had been decorated to levels rivaling our initial gala. Flowers, of course, were the main décor, though not all of them were real. Some had been crafted of silk and jewels, hanging in elaborate wreaths and garlands that sparkled in the candlelight. The attendees consisted of more than just potential suitors, the occasion drawing out the finest citizens of both Cape Triumph and Denham at large. I felt certain my companions and I were the grandest in the room, simply because of our greater access to luxury fabrics, but all of the masked guests were fascinating to behold.
Cedric arrived right as things started and, rather than send me off to a scheduled partner, he swept me into the first waltz himself. “Your father won’t like this,” I teased.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll soon have a lot more to be upset about,” Cedric told me. “Besides, from a distance, he might not even know it’s me with the mask. It’d require him paying attention to something besides himself.”
I recognized the tone, the lightness. It was my cue to throw a quip back. But instead, I found myself saying, “I’d know you anywhere, even with your face covered. It’s in the way you move and smell. The way you feel . . .”
His hand tightened around my waist, bringing me fractionally closer. “You’re not making this easy. Especially since I’m here to tell you that Nicholas Adelton has agreed to marry you tomorrow.”
“I’d hope there isn’t any way to say that that’s easy.”
“No, there isn’t.”
We fell into silence and let the music and the hum of conversation surround us, our eyes locked on each other as we glided through the room. I had the overwhelming urge to rest my head against him, but that wouldn’t really help maintain our disinterested cover. Also, that wasn’t an appropriate action in a waltz.
As the song wrapped up, Cedric lifted his eyes from my face. He’d been contemplative while watching me, but now his brow furrowed. “The governor-to-be has just spotted you. Let me get you over to Adelton for the next song. He’s on board with everything but wanted to ask you something first.”
Puzzled, I let Cedric lead me to Nicholas, just in time for the next song. Cedric was all politeness as he spoke to the attorney but cast me a lingering look as he walked away.
“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch,” Nicholas told me as we moved into the new dance. His half-mask was a simple one of blue fabric. “My client is a cousin’s friend, and he’d been greatly wronged in a trade matter. I couldn’t abandon him.”
“I think it’s admirable,” I said truthfully.
“I can’t fight all the injustice in the world, but I try to do what little I can. But enough business.” He smiled down at me. “Mister Thorn has explained to me there’s, ah, some urgency in what we have planned and that we’d have to manage a few tricks to make a wedding happen in time. We should be able to pull it off, but first I need to know . . .” His expression turned uncertain. “Are you sure you’re willing? I don’t want you rushed into this. I don’t want you doing something you’re not absolutely sure about. You should choose who you want.”
I felt a pang in my heart, not only because of his consideration but also because of the truth it skirted around. Who did I want to choose? Cedric, of course. But he couldn’t afford even the stake that would keep him alive, let alone my price. Anything else would be a breach of contract and create a great deal of scandal.
You could do a lot worse than Nicholas Adelton, I told myself. Even if it means becoming Adelaide Adelton.
Viola, across the room, caught my eye just then. It only strengthened my resolve, and I turned back to Nicholas. I pushed away my heartache, trying to ignore the way every part of my being cried out for Cedric. “Yes,” I said to Nicholas. “I’m certain. If Mister Thorn can take care of the technicalities, I want to do it. And he will. He always does what he says he will.”
I finished the dance with a heavy heart and expected my next one to be with Warren. Instead, it was Viola who swept me to the side of the room. “Adelaide, dear, I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages.”
That was true. While I’d dutifully spent time with Warren, I’d gone out of my way to avoid her.
I studied her carefully. Her tone and expression seemed honest enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding something back.
The next day, we found out that Caroline had finalized a contract, bringing our numbers down further. Jasper, though excited by the progress, felt the need to give the rest of us a pep talk.
“Although your contract gives you three months to choose,” he said at breakfast, “it rarely takes any girl that long. Most are settled in a month’s time. I’d be very surprised if the rest of you didn’t have many offers at the festival tomorrow night.” His gaze lingered on me the longest. “Very surprised.”
The Flower Festival, dedicated to the glorious angels Aviel and Ramiel, was the biggest spring holiday in the Osfridian calendar. It coincided with the Alanzan Spring Rites, and there was some controversy over the holiday’s true nature. Devotees of Uros claimed the heretics had taken the traditional holiday and corrupted its veneration of healing and pure love by adding in worship of the wayward angels Alanziel and Lisiel. The Alanzans believed it was an ancient celebration of passion and fertility and that the orthodox worshippers had sanitized it.
Regardless, it was second only to Vaiel’s Day as our most celebrated holiday. Elaborate parties and banquets were commonplace, even here in Cape Triumph. We’d be at the large town hall again, in a splendid ball paid for by the governor and several other politicians. Even the engaged girls were going. Jasper claimed he didn’t want them to miss out, but I suspected he wanted to show off the girls with their fiancés to any undecided men. The gala would have a masquerade theme, which was common in Osfrid, less so here. Mistress Culpepper hadn’t been prepared for that and had to hastily make the necessary arrangements.
As usual, her “hasty” work was meticulous, no matter her grumbling. I had a delicate half-mask of silver filigree adorned with crystals. It was more of an enhancement than a true mask, since Jasper wanted us readily identifiable. The mask was the perfect accompaniment to my gown, an off-the-shoulder vision of white satin embellished with silver roses and ribbons.
“You know,” Mira told me slyly, adjusting her own glittering red half-mask, “the tradition of masquerades goes back to the Alanzans conducting Spring Rites in masks. They put on masks of leaves and flowers, or dress like animals of the forest. Men and women dance without even knowing who their partner is.”
I hadn’t seen Cedric all day but had heard him speaking about the ball, which I assumed meant he’d be skipping any Alanzan rites— unless he’d be joining them extremely late. Had he ever participated, I wondered? And to what extent? The whole notion of dancing with a mysterious partner was pagan and improper, of course, but after the Star Advent, I felt a flush spread over me as I thought about him pulling me against him in some dark, wild place.
We entered the hall amidst much fanfare, and I was impressed to see it had been decorated to levels rivaling our initial gala. Flowers, of course, were the main décor, though not all of them were real. Some had been crafted of silk and jewels, hanging in elaborate wreaths and garlands that sparkled in the candlelight. The attendees consisted of more than just potential suitors, the occasion drawing out the finest citizens of both Cape Triumph and Denham at large. I felt certain my companions and I were the grandest in the room, simply because of our greater access to luxury fabrics, but all of the masked guests were fascinating to behold.
Cedric arrived right as things started and, rather than send me off to a scheduled partner, he swept me into the first waltz himself. “Your father won’t like this,” I teased.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll soon have a lot more to be upset about,” Cedric told me. “Besides, from a distance, he might not even know it’s me with the mask. It’d require him paying attention to something besides himself.”
I recognized the tone, the lightness. It was my cue to throw a quip back. But instead, I found myself saying, “I’d know you anywhere, even with your face covered. It’s in the way you move and smell. The way you feel . . .”
His hand tightened around my waist, bringing me fractionally closer. “You’re not making this easy. Especially since I’m here to tell you that Nicholas Adelton has agreed to marry you tomorrow.”
“I’d hope there isn’t any way to say that that’s easy.”
“No, there isn’t.”
We fell into silence and let the music and the hum of conversation surround us, our eyes locked on each other as we glided through the room. I had the overwhelming urge to rest my head against him, but that wouldn’t really help maintain our disinterested cover. Also, that wasn’t an appropriate action in a waltz.
As the song wrapped up, Cedric lifted his eyes from my face. He’d been contemplative while watching me, but now his brow furrowed. “The governor-to-be has just spotted you. Let me get you over to Adelton for the next song. He’s on board with everything but wanted to ask you something first.”
Puzzled, I let Cedric lead me to Nicholas, just in time for the next song. Cedric was all politeness as he spoke to the attorney but cast me a lingering look as he walked away.
“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch,” Nicholas told me as we moved into the new dance. His half-mask was a simple one of blue fabric. “My client is a cousin’s friend, and he’d been greatly wronged in a trade matter. I couldn’t abandon him.”
“I think it’s admirable,” I said truthfully.
“I can’t fight all the injustice in the world, but I try to do what little I can. But enough business.” He smiled down at me. “Mister Thorn has explained to me there’s, ah, some urgency in what we have planned and that we’d have to manage a few tricks to make a wedding happen in time. We should be able to pull it off, but first I need to know . . .” His expression turned uncertain. “Are you sure you’re willing? I don’t want you rushed into this. I don’t want you doing something you’re not absolutely sure about. You should choose who you want.”
I felt a pang in my heart, not only because of his consideration but also because of the truth it skirted around. Who did I want to choose? Cedric, of course. But he couldn’t afford even the stake that would keep him alive, let alone my price. Anything else would be a breach of contract and create a great deal of scandal.
You could do a lot worse than Nicholas Adelton, I told myself. Even if it means becoming Adelaide Adelton.
Viola, across the room, caught my eye just then. It only strengthened my resolve, and I turned back to Nicholas. I pushed away my heartache, trying to ignore the way every part of my being cried out for Cedric. “Yes,” I said to Nicholas. “I’m certain. If Mister Thorn can take care of the technicalities, I want to do it. And he will. He always does what he says he will.”
I finished the dance with a heavy heart and expected my next one to be with Warren. Instead, it was Viola who swept me to the side of the room. “Adelaide, dear, I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages.”
That was true. While I’d dutifully spent time with Warren, I’d gone out of my way to avoid her.
