The Glittering Court

  “Who are they?” I asked, curious as to who else was going to the New World. One man, with black hair whipping in the wind, was studying me. If he’d shaved and put on unwrinkled clothes this morning, he might have been dashing. When he saw I’d noticed him, he gave a polite nod and looked away.

  “Mostly merchants. A few adventurers. The ones I’m rooming with are nice enough—terribly curious about you girls, as one might imagine.”

  “Any potential suitors?” I asked. “Should I be putting on the charm?”

  “I didn’t know it ever went away.” Cedric studied the men a few moments and shook his head. “Well, I don’t think they’re that successful yet. None of them could afford any of you.”

  A few girls standing nearby overheard his words and turned speculative gazes to the cluster of men. Maybe this group wasn’t wildly successful, but some of them looked like they were doing well enough with their lives. I could guess my peers’ thoughts. For most of them, coming from impoverished backgrounds, any of these gentlemen would be a great step up in the world. What was in store if the men in Adoria surpassed this?

  After the thrill of our departure wore off, most of the girls retired to their rooms. Not long into our journey, some returned above deck once seasickness set in. I felt a little queasy now and then but soon overcame it. Mira never went through it at all.

  Miss Bradley preferred we stay down below but didn’t discourage our strolls, so long as we did them in groups. Her biggest concern seemed to be that we apply daily moisturizers to our faces, lest the salt water roughen our skin before we got to Adoria. Mira was particularly restless and hated being cooped up. I accompanied her as often as I could, though I knew she sneaked up on her own sometimes.

  “What do you think Tamsin’s doing?” I asked one day. Mira and I stood at the rail, watching the Gray Gull. It was never out of our sight, and I squinted, hoping to catch sight of red hair.

  “Making plans,” said Mira. “Sizing up the other girls and figuring out how to best them.”

  I smiled at the thought, knowing she was right. “Her rivals are there, aren’t they? The girls who tied her?”

  Mira nodded. “Maybe this was all a ruse so that she could spy on the competition.”

  “I wish it was.” There was always an ache in my chest when I studied the other ship. It was amazing how much I missed Tamsin’s calculating ways, and the rift between us seemed to overshadow any pleasure I might have taken from this journey.

  Mira, brave as ever, walked right up to the railing and peered down at the water. It made me shiver. I had a constant fear of her being pulled over the edge. Averting my eyes from her, I studied the far reaches of the bluish-gray sea. Not unlike Cedric’s eyes, I supposed.

  “So beautiful,” I murmured.

  “Your first voyage?”

  I turned and saw the man who’d been watching me that first day, the one who either needed to shave or just grow a proper beard. In fact, the more I studied him, the more I just wanted to . . . well, neaten him up. His rumpled clothing was respectable enough but, as Cedric had pointed out, hardly in the class of someone who could afford us.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, smiling. “We’re not supposed to talk without a formal introduction, right?”

  “Well, these aren’t very formal settings,” I said as Mira came to stand beside me again. “I’m Adelaide Bailey, and this is Mira Viana.”

  “Grant Elliott,” he replied. “I’d take my hat off if I had one, but I learned long ago that it’s not even worth wearing one out in this wind.”

  “You’ve been to Adoria before?” Mira asked.

  “Last year. I have a stake in a store that outfits people for exploration and wilderness survival. My partner ran it over the winter, and now I’m coming back.”

  Mira’s eyes lit up. “Have you done much exploring yourself, Mister Elliott?”

  “Here and there,” he replied, turning from her and focusing back on me. “Nothing you’d find interesting. Now, help me understand how your organization works. You’re ranked by gemstone, right? And you’re the top one?”

  “The diamond,” I affirmed. “And Mira’s a garnet.”

  “So, that means you’ll get to go to all sorts of—”

  “There you are.” Cedric strolled up to us, smiling when he saw Grant. “Looks like the three of you have already met. Mister Elliott is one of the men who shares a cabin with me. Adelaide, I need to borrow you for a moment.” He nodded toward another group of our girls a short distance away. “Mira, will you be able to go back down below with them when they leave? I think they’re going soon.”

  “Of course,” said Mira. “And perhaps Mister Elliott could tell me more about his business.”

  Grant shook his head. “I’d love to, but I just remembered something I have to follow up on.”

  He walked away, and Mira wandered over to the other girls. Cedric beckoned me to follow him, and I expected us to simply find some private part of the deck to talk. Instead, he went below, leading me through the ship’s narrow inner passages until we reached a cargo hold piled high with crates.

  “What in the world are we doing here?” I asked as he shut the door behind us.

  He waved me forward past several rows of crates and then gestured grandly. “Your art studio, madam.”

  I peered into a narrow space shielded by a large stack of boxes and found a canvas and some paints.

  “I smuggled them aboard and waited until I could find a place seldom visited,” he explained, clearly proud of his cunning.

  I knelt down to look at the paints, spreading my skirts around me. I examined the pots one by one. “Oils.”

  “Does that make a difference?” he asked.

  “It affects what I can do. I can’t do a Florencio. His medium’s different.”

  Cedric’s earlier pride faltered. “I didn’t know. Will you be able to do something?”

  “Sure.” I ran through a mental list of various artists’ works I’d seen, including the types of pigments and canvases used. I had a pretty good memory for detail. The question would be choosing which style was within my skill set. “Thodoros,” I said at last. “A Myrikosi painter. I can do one of his. A lot of their trade goes through Sirminica, and with all the chaos there right now, a rogue painting being smuggled out wouldn’t be that extraordinary.”

  “Can you do it in a little less than two months?”

  I hesitated. “I suppose—especially if I can get a couple of hours each day.”

  “I’ll make sure of it,” he said adamantly. “We’ll make this happen.”

  When he simply stood there and watched me expectantly, I exclaimed, “What, right now?”

  “Why not? We’re short on time.”

  “I can’t just jump into a major work. Especially with you staring at me the whole time.”

  He backed up—but not by much. “Well, I can’t leave you. I need to be around in case someone comes in.”

  “Well, if they do, it’s not going to save us from being caught in art forgery,” I snapped.

  “It’ll save you from some wandering sailor. Now. Is there anything else you need?”

  “More space. More time. A ship that isn’t constantly swaying. And maybe something to eat that isn’t dried out and preserved. I’d kill for a honey cake.” Seeing his exasperated look, I said, “Hey, you try just jumping into reproducing one of the greatest artists out there. I want to help you, but I need to think this through.”

  After pondering Thodoros’s works for the better part of an hour, I finally set to sketching charcoal on the canvas and began planning out the scene. Thodoros was famous for a series of four paintings called The Lady of the Fountain. Each also had a number. They were all different angles and poses of a young woman standing by a fountain and had been created at different times. Occasionally, another person would be included—a
man, a child. Passing off a fifth, just-discovered one would hopefully be viable.

  My marks were tentative at first. The bizarre, cramped setting didn’t help any. Neither did the constant rocking of the ship. I finally decided a back view of the woman would be easiest, and I had to remember the exact position of the fountain and number of trees around it. As time passed, I grew more confident and was happy to get lost in the work. It took my mind away from the deception I was enmeshed in and that constant ache over Tamsin.

  I forgot Cedric was there and jumped when he spoke. “Adelaide, we’ve got to go.”

  “Do we?” I nodded toward the canvas. “I’m not done with the sketch.”

  “We’ve already been gone longer than we should have. It’s nearly dinnertime, and I’m hoping Miss Bradley hasn’t been looking for you.”

  I reluctantly surrendered the charcoal and watched as Cedric neatly concealed everything away. “Be careful,” I warned. “Don’t tear that canvas.”

  “Maybe it’ll just add to the authenticity of being smuggled out through dangerous conditions.”

  “Maybe,” I said, stretching my cramped muscles. “But a painting that makes it out intact will fetch a better price for poor, penniless heathens. A buyer won’t question the miracle to have something neat and tidy hanging in his home.”

  “Well, this poor, penniless heathen is grateful.”

  We left the cargo room but stopped again in the narrow corridor just before we reached the Glittering Court’s set of rooms. He lowered his voice. “Where did you learn to do that anyway? The painting? Lots of people know how to paint. Not many can do that kind of imitation.”

  Another weighty question. “My father,” I said after several long moments. “It was a game we played. To test my memory.”

  He quickly noticed the change in me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something upsetting. But he must have been remarkable to have that kind of faith in you. From what I’ve seen, most noblemen just care about their daughters behaving politely and marrying well.”

  “He was interested in those things too. But I don’t think what I’m about to do is exactly the marriage he had in mind. Do you know about Rupert, First Earl of Rothford?”

  “Of course. All Osfridians know about him.” Cedric gave me a meaningful look. “And I know who his direct descendants are.”

  “Throughout my entire life, I’ve had the importance of that drilled into me. What a responsibility that title is.” I leaned against the rough wooden wall, thinking of Grandmama. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m tarnishing that heritage. I don’t know.”

  Cedric’s expression softened. “Well, I know two things. For you to be countess, he’s one of the rare progenitors to let his title be passed to his female descendants. Most don’t do that, which means he wasn’t someone who believed in abiding by archaic rules. You should be proud of that.”

  “You don’t need to pitch me on my own ancestor. What’s the other thing you allegedly know?”

  “There’s no ‘allegedly’ about it. Rupert left a comfortable life back on the continent, sailing west to a savage land he knew little about. He didn’t do it because it was the safe choice or because it was the easy choice. He did it because it was the right choice, because he knew in his bones that staying in the old land was draining him and he had to move on to greater things. He didn’t tarnish his heritage. He was brave and bold.” Cedric looked at me meaningfully. “Sound like anyone we both know?”

  “Are you talking about yourself?”

  I started to turn away before he could see my smile, but he caught my hand and pulled me back. When I looked at him, I felt my mirth vanish. There was something disconcertingly serious in his face. The hall suddenly seemed very small, the space between us even smaller.

  “Never underestimate your own worth,” he told me. “I certainly never have.”

  I wanted him to smile again or make a joke, and when he didn’t, I broke away. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.” I hurried off to my room, afraid of what I’d see if I looked back.

  Chapter 11

  Cedric was nervous in those first days. He’d expected me to put brush to canvas and start instantly creating people and scenery. Those things would come, but first, I had to do the groundwork. I sketched and laid base colors, and slowly, bit by bit, the work began to come to life. Each time I finished a session, I always felt as though I hadn’t had enough time. The minutes flew by, and I’d have a pang of worry that I wasn’t going to be able to finish before the end of our journey.

  Outside of my makeshift art studio, however, my painting time was noticeably long.

  “There you are,” exclaimed Miss Bradley one evening. I hadn’t been able to leave the storage room until some paint had properly set, making me late for dinner in our common room. All the other girls were seated, their eyes locked on me as I stood in the doorway. On a long trip like this, anyone getting in trouble was high entertainment.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.” I clasped my hands in front of me and tried to look contrite. “I was taking a walk on the deck, and when I started to come back, there was a group of sailors in my way in the stairwell—doing some sort of repair. I didn’t want to have to pass so close to them, so I waited—discreetly—until they were done. I thought that was the proper thing to do.”

  Miss Bradley tsked. “The proper thing to do would have not been to go above deck alone.” At least I wasn’t alone in this crime. A few other girls with cabin fever had been chastised repeatedly too.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I just needed some air. I get nauseous down here sometimes.”

  She surveyed me a moment longer and then nodded for me to take a seat. “Very well, but don’t let it happen again. And that goes for all of you.”

  Everyone nodded meekly, knowing full well this would probably happen again. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled next to Mira. Since this business with Cedric had started, I hadn’t been able to spend much time with her. At first, she’d commented on it and tried to include me in excursions, but she’d eventually given up. Now, when I wasn’t painting, I’d sometimes find her alone in our room rereading her Sirminican swashbuckling stories. Other times, I couldn’t find Mira around at all.

  “Another decadent meal,” she said, handing me a basket of hardtack.

  I picked up one of the stiff biscuits with a scowl and then added some pickled cabbage from a serving platter. Our lessons in fine dining and etiquette weren’t of much use at the moment as we subsisted on this simple ship’s fare. The food in and of itself didn’t bother me so much as eating the same thing each day did.

  I’d lifted the hardtack to my mouth when Clara suddenly said, “Isn’t it raining up above? Why aren’t you wet, Adelaide?”

  I froze as all eyes once again swiveled toward me. “I . . . kept under cover,” I said at last. “I knew Miss Bradley wouldn’t want us to ruin our clothes—or even our hair. Maybe we aren’t in Adoria yet, but we should still maintain certain standards.” Sure of my footing now, I smiled sweetly at Clara. “I can understand why you might not think of those things on a trip like this. But as our cohort’s diamond, I find it’s something I must constantly keep in mind.”

  “Excellent point,” said Miss Bradley. “Just because we’re in rough conditions, it doesn’t mean we should be any less diligent about our manners and appearances. You are going to have to be in best form the instant we reach Adoria. As soon as word of our ship’s arrival spreads, there’ll be prospective suitors down at the docks to watch you come ashore and size up this year’s group.”

  Those words took all of us aback for a moment. It wasn’t anything that had ever come up before. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, however. Everything we’d done had been scrutinized at Blue Spring Manor, with the understanding that we’d continue to be scrutinized in the New World. Why not from the first moment we stepped on shore? r />
  “Sized up like livestock.” Mira pitched her voice low, but Miss Bradley heard her.

  “There are young ladies begging in the streets of Osfrid who’d love to have the opportunity to be dressed up and ‘sized up,’” she said sharply. “I’m sure if you’d like to join them, arrangements can be made for you to return with the Thorns to Osfrid at the end of the summer.” While most of our household now accepted Mira, Miss Bradley obviously hadn’t come to terms with having a Sirminican in our cohort.

  “Of course not, ma’am,” said Mira. “Forgive me.” Her tone was as apologetic as mine had been, and like me, she wasn’t sincere.

  “I think if Mira had her way, she wouldn’t get married,” I told Cedric on our way to the cargo room one day. Long weeks had passed, and amazingly, this ocean journey was nearing its end. “Sometimes I just feel like she’s here because she has nothing better to do.”

  He put his hand on my back to guide me around a pile of netting taking up part of the hall. Since this enterprise had begun, we’d grown remarkably casual around each other. “Compared to Sirminica, this is probably better,” he said.

  “I suppose. But I wish she was more on board with what’s in store. Whatever the means, this journey ends in us marrying in Adoria. She’d be happier if she was excited about that, just like the rest of us.”

  As we neared the cargo room, we saw the captain and one of his men hurrying through. We stepped to the side, letting them pass. As they did, I heard the sailor say, “It’s no problem, Cap’n. I can handle it.”

  “I’m sure you can,” came the gruff response. “But I don’t like the looks of it. It came up too fast. I’ll steer us the next hour and then hand off.”

  Once they were clear of us, Cedric came to a halt. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “Which part exactly?”

  “The part about the captain taking the wheel.”

  “So?”

  Cedric’s face was alight with excitement. “So, it means he won’t be in his stateroom for a while. How would you like to add another crime to our growing list of offenses?”