He took this in for several moments. “I assume this is about Adelaide? Look, I understand you’re disappointed, but getting caught up in petty drama with other girls is only going to distract you from success. Focus on your contract.”
“I will, Mister Thorn—when I’m in Adoria. And it seems like I’ll have better odds of that if I’m not miserable for the two months leading up to it.”
That brought a wry smile to his face. “I see.”
I waited, unable to read his thoughts. As the silence stretched, I had to repress the urge to beg further, to plead and wail about how I couldn’t be trapped in a small space with Adelaide for that long. But Jasper Thorn wasn’t indulgent or sentimental. He would make his decision with or without further persuasion.
“I normally wouldn’t even consider it,” he said at last. “You should be able to deal with this minor inconvenience. But honestly, I’m still reeling a bit too. Who’d have thought Cedric could bring in a girl capable of a score like that? When he showed up with her and the Sirminican, I thought for sure he was out of his mind. He still might be.”
Jasper gazed off, seeming to forget I was there. I didn’t fully understand the dynamics of the Thorn family, though I’d picked up a few things while delivering their laundry. They weren’t openly affectionate, but I still got the sense that Jasper cared about his son and wanted him to succeed in the world. The thing was, I felt like Jasper wanted to make sure he succeeded more than Cedric did.
Snapping his attention back to me, Jasper abruptly asked, “Did she cheat?”
“I . . . I beg your pardon?”
“Do you have any reason to think Adelaide might have pulled this off dishonestly? Yes, I’d like to parade a ‘perfect’ girl around, but I don’t want to discover some nefarious scheme later and unleash a scandal. Our reputation isn’t just built on teaching young ladies to be genteel. It’s also about them putting in the work and effort for it.” The intensity of his gaze made me take a step back. “You live with her. Did you see anything?”
I hesitated as an unexpected power now hovered within my grasp. What would happen if I said that I suspected Adelaide had indeed done something underhanded? Would she be removed? Would they take me at my word? I could back up my claim with her moody behavior before the retakes. Others must have noticed. It was no indicator of guilt, but it could be damning enough to cost her her rank . . . and win me back mine.
Except I truly didn’t think she’d cheated. She’d been dishonest—that I believed, though I still couldn’t put all the pieces together. We’d retaken some of the same exams, and I hadn’t seen any real way to cheat. No, Adelaide wasn’t fooling us by pretending to know everything. She’d fooled us by pretending to know nothing. And no matter how angry she’d made me, I couldn’t falsely accuse her.
“No, sir. I didn’t notice anything.”
He nodded and sighed. “Mistress Masterson thinks it’s all honest too. I suppose it could just be luck . . .”
As he fell into thought once more, I asked nervously, “So . . . does that mean I can switch?”
“We’ll see. I’m going to Swan Ridge tonight. If one of those girls will trade, you can do it. Our space is parceled out pretty tightly.”
“Thank you, Mister Thorn. I appreciate it. And I won’t let you down.”
“I’m sure you won’t. And despite this Adelaide situation, I have no doubt you’ll fulfill your contract in no time.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not going to just fulfill it. You can set a high starting price, and I promise you it’ll be met and exceeded. And my advance’ll be paid right away.”
“I don’t doubt that either. I hope the money’s been useful to your family.”
“Very useful,” I said, keeping my voice as level as possible. Like me, most girls here had worked a job or even two to help support their families. Losing that income for a year, even if it eventually resulted in a fortune, could seriously affect a family’s short-term well-being. So, on occasion, Jasper advanced money to a girl that she would pay back—with interest—upon getting married. Usually, he lent silver, but I’d bargained for gold.
Jasper didn’t know about Merry, of course. I’d told him we needed the gold for my sister’s medical expenses, which was only half a lie. Merry frequently suffered from coughing fits that could almost entirely cut off her air. The doctor had told us it would pass as she grew older, but until then, his fees and her medicine had racked up a debt we’d struggled to keep up with. The Glittering Court’s advance had lifted that burden and done so much more, now that Merry had her own ticket to Adoria.
“I’ll let you know about the switch.” Jasper’s eyes returned to his paperwork, and I recognized the dismissal. After thanking him once again, I left the office, satisfied I’d done all that I could with that problem. Now I just had to figure out how to avoid my bedroom as much as possible for the next two weeks.
* * *
Evading Adelaide didn’t turn out to be the problem. She made a few half-hearted attempts to talk to me but gave up when I kept refusing to even look at her. Mira was a different story, though.
In the time I’d spent here, Mira had always been unshakeable. And how could she be any other way? Her homeland had erupted into civil war, and she’d lived in horrific conditions while escaping to Osfrid, never knowing if she’d make it alive. And even after she arrived, survival had been a daily struggle.
But she’d endured, and her resiliency had allowed her to face the ups and downs of a household of ambitious girls with ease. I’d seen little faze her until this rift with Adelaide. Over and over, she begged us to forgive each other. It tore at my heart, realizing just how much she cared about us.
That just reaffirmed that I was doing the right thing. This had turned into a terrible, emotional mess that was drowning all of us.
I couldn’t let the fallout with Mira and Adelaide be a distraction. I loved them both—yes, even Adelaide—but Merry was my greatest love. Everything I had within me had to go into improving my life for my daughter, and I wasn’t going to be able to do that if I was also wrestling with the hurt of my rocky friendships.
Mira came to me that very last night with one final plea. “You two are ripping me in half! I’ve seen what happens when neither side backs down in a fight. No one wins, Tamsin, and I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of pain. I’m tired of loss. I can’t do it anymore—and I can’t lose you two.”
“Mira, you will never lose me. No matter what else happens or where we go in this world, I will always be there for you.” I took her hands and added reluctantly, “And whatever’s happened between Adelaide and me . . . well, I know she’ll always be there for you too.”
I didn’t say a word to her about trading ships, how a Swan Ridge girl named Martha had agreed to swap with me. I didn’t mention it to anyone at Blue Spring, but they all found out the morning of our departure. We left from Osfrid’s largest west coast port, Culver, and spent a blustery morning waiting by the docks as sailors readied our ships for boarding. I stared off at the churning gray waves as the other Blue Spring girls clustered nearby chatted about the adventures to come. Their chatter turned to gasps when my name was called with the Swan Ridge girls traveling aboard the Gray Gull. My manor—my former manor—was taking the Good Hope.
I couldn’t bear to look at Adelaide and Mira. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on the Gray Gull’s tallest mast as I walked forward. I tried to clear my mind of everything except the ship. I didn’t want to think about how I was leaving my friends behind. I didn’t want to think about how I was leaving my daughter behind and how—if I failed her— this agonizing separation would have been for nothing.
I knew how petty it must seem to everyone. It must have looked like I was having a temper tantrum, that I couldn’t handle the blow to my pride. They were all welcome to think whatever they wanted, though. Their opinions didn’t matter. What mattered was get
ting back on track.
Somehow, I made it on board without crumbling. And when the Gray Gull’s lines were let loose, I stood on the deck and clenched the rails, watching my homeland grow smaller and fainter until it disappeared entirely.
We were on our way.
* * *
After the excitement of departure, I climbed the narrow ladder below deck and sought refuge in my assigned cabin. It was tiny, almost the same size as the room I used to share with Olivia and Merry. I immediately began penning a letter but didn’t get very far because my three new roommates burst in.
“You’re the girl who got kicked out of the top three, aren’t you?” one of them asked. “Because of that—what’s her name? Adelaide? The one who came out of nowhere?”
Another girl regarded me with wide, intrigued eyes. “I heard you got in a fight with her! Did you punch her?”
“Bad luck, that whole affair,” said the third girl. The contrast of her long black hair against alabaster skin gave her an otherworldly beauty. “You and I got the same score, you know. I’m Winnifred. You think you got it bad? Imagine how I feel, losing the diamond!”
They all looked pleasant enough, their expressions bright and eager. And they seemed ready to welcome me too, but I didn’t want people who might like me and whom I might like in return. I didn’t want to deal with the pain that would follow if another friendship fell apart.
I met Winnifred’s expectant gaze unsmilingly. “Well, I have no idea how you feel, but I’m sure it’s pretty good, since you’ll still be at all the most exclusive events. Hopefully you’ll find a way to cope with the agony of being pampered and adored.” To the blonde girl who asked if I’d punched Adelaide, I said: “And of course I didn’t hit her. Do you think I’d be here if I had? Six. They should add common sense to our curriculum.”
“No need to be nasty about it,” Winnifred shot back. “We’re just trying to be friendly, that’s all. It’s a long trip.”
“I came to the Glittering Court because I wanted a husband, not friends,” I replied.
The first girl who’d entered leaned against the doorway and chuckled. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you? I’m sure men will be falling all over themselves when they get a taste of that sunny attitude.”
“Yes,” I told her, “they will be falling all over themselves. Because when I set my mind to getting something done, I fight for it with every bit of energy I have. And I don’t waste that energy on things that aren’t worth my time.” I glanced at each of them meaningfully.
“Well, it’s a good thing you aren’t looking for friends.” Winnifred moved to the doorway, beckoning the others with a jerk of her head. “Because something tells me you won’t be making many.”
They left me alone, and I stared off at nothing for a long time, wondering how someone could exist and feel so empty. And then I continued writing.
CHAPTER 4
DESPITE MY ROCKY FIRST IMPRESSION, I DIDN’T SPEND the entire voyage as a complete pariah. The trip was too long, the space too small. The other girls and I had to interact with each other, though it never went beyond the bare-minimum conversation needed to coexist. And as time passed, I found myself growing less angry at the world. That blazing fury diminished, instead becoming a cold, leaden depression that sat in the pit of my stomach.
With no social life, I didn’t have much to do during those long days. I had my letters, of course, and continued writing to Merry and my family at least once a day. I planned on giving Merry hers when she arrived in Cape Triumph, and I’d send the others back to Osfro when I found a ship carrying mail.
We had a meager library on board, but reading didn’t really improve my mood. The books Jasper had sent along for our “entertainment” were all about Adoria. Some simply contained dry inventories of plant life and geographical features. But a number included accounts of the struggles colonists had faced. Plague. Icori attacks. Famine. I would have eaten up such terrifying tales of a far-off land in my youth, but they lost their luster now that said land was not so far off anymore.
I did, of course, have an unexpected opportunity before me. Sailing on the Gray Gull meant I was able to size up my competition ahead of our arrival in Adoria. Had I been on the Good Hope, I would have known nothing about these girls beforehand.
None of them were cutthroat—or if they were, they did an excellent job in hiding it. That didn’t mean they weren’t a threat, however. Some of the Glittering Court’s highest-ranking girls were here, and they wouldn’t need any sort of mastermind schemes to win over their suitors. But none of them were perfect, not even former-diamond Winnifred, so I just had to make sure that if I ever went head-to-head with anyone over a particular man, I was prepared.
“Have you noticed how Mistress Baxter fusses over Mister Baxter’s clothes all the time?” remarked Polly one day. She was chatting with a group of girls in our common room while I worked on a letter in the corner. “She picks out everything he wears, lays it out each morning.”
“It’s cute,” said Vanessa. The Baxters were an elderly merchant couple sailing with us. “Well, mostly. I heard he never gets to decide anything for himself about what he wears.”
“It’s smart,” Polly stated. “You can’t leave decisions like that to men. You’ve got to take things like that well in hand early on. It’s what I intend to do.”
I lifted out a piece of paper from underneath the letter I was writing to Merry. It was a list of cryptic notes, and I added: P.A.: controlling, especially with appearance. If Polly and I ever vied for a suitor who liked choosing his own clothes, I’d make sure that quirk of hers came up. And if we both happened to want a man who liked having everything dictated to him, then I’d know to play even more domineering than her.
Another time, during dinner, some girls were complaining about how tired they were of hardtack—the bland, biscuit-like staple of shipboard life. Winnifred said, “You know, if you marry a plantation owner, you’ll have a stockpile of food like this. When you live outside of town, you’ve got to have backup in case some delay keeps you from getting supplies from the city.”
“That’s why I’m not going to live outside the city,” declared Maria.
Winnifred’s smile was skeptical. “Yeah? At least half of Adoria’s richest men are landowners. You’re going to pass on all of them?”
“Of course not. But lots of them also own homes in town. I’ll marry one like that. If he doesn’t have one, I’ll insist that he rectify that immediately.”
I made a note after dinner that potential suitors of Maria’s had best be prepared for certain expenses.
And then, on still another day, I was enjoying the sun above deck and overheard Damaris engaging with one of the sailors. We weren’t supposed to talk to them, but her father was a fisherman, and she constantly broke the rule.
“Why’re you using a square knot?” she demanded of the man. “Shift that load, and it’ll come right loose.”
The sailor, under orders not to talk to us either, grimaced and ignored her as he worked.
“If it were me,” she continued, “I’d use a sheet bend for that.”
He jerked his head up. “You can’t tie no sheet bend.”
“The hell I can’t.”
This quickly escalated to a knot-making contest between the two, which drew the enthusiastic attention of half the ship. When it also drew Miss Quincy’s attention, however, the competition came to an immediate halt. Damaris was banned from the deck for a week.
Back in my cabin, I wasn’t really sure what to record, but I found myself smiling—and hurting. I was lonely. I missed my own friends terribly and wished I’d listened to Mira’s pleas for peace. I’d raged because Adelaide had endangered something she hadn’t even known about, but in those long, seafaring days, I began to wonder if perhaps she’d had reasons for besting everyone that I hadn’t known about either. Had we both suffered unnecessari
ly because we’d been too afraid of confiding in the other? It was a sobering thought, and the fact that this question consumed me stood as proof of how distracting friendship was.
And, of course, I missed Merry the most. No amount of letter writing or reconnaissance ever chased away my longing for her. Merry and I had shared a bed for almost her entire life. In the days leading up to my departure for Blue Spring, we’d had her start sleeping with Olivia to make the transition less of a shock. I’d felt Merry’s absence keenly at the manor, but I’d also been so busy with my work that I’d usually passed out pretty quickly at night. Here, in my narrow, rocking bed, I’d lie awake long into the night, aching for Merry’s warmth beside me, wishing I could be sure her breathing stayed deep and steady.
* * *
We grew so used to the monotony on the Gray Gull that the storm took us completely by surprise.
It took the sailors by surprise too. I was above deck when a lookout spotted an ominous line of gray on the horizon. I’d been gazing moodily at the Good Hope, which always sailed nearby. Our crew came to life with an alacrity I’d never seen before, shouting and running as they scrambled to follow the captain’s orders. Those of us by the rail squinted at the clouds and tried to understand what had spurred this urgency.
“Doesn’t look like much to me,” said Joan.
Her roommate, Maria, nodded in agreement. “Seems like a lot of fuss for nothing.”
Even Miss Quincy expressed skepticism when one sailor curtly ordered her out of his way. She crossed her arms and glared at his back, muttering, “I shall have a word with the captain once this has all settled down. That sort of behavior is not appropriate, and he must do something to keep his men in line.”
But beside her, Damaris stared at the horizon for a long time, her brow lined with thought. At last she turned around and said very quietly to us, “Go below deck.”