“We don’t, but sir, it’s—it’s the governor’s son. Warren Doyle.”
That caught even Cedric off guard. “Well, then. I guess you’d better show him to the sitting room.” She hurried off, and he glanced at me. “And I suppose you’d better scurry off to your spy post.”
I flashed him a grin and left the room. As I went upstairs, I caught sight of Jasper nearly running into the house. Apparently, word of the governor’s son’s visit had reached him. He might normally have no problem letting Cedric handle meetings alone, but this was clearly one Jasper wanted to be at.
All the girls gathered on the walkway above, even Mira, who tended to skip these covert viewings. We craned our necks, hoping to get a glimpse of the suitor who had caused both Cedric and Jasper to take notice.
“Not bad,” murmured Clara. I had to agree. Warren Doyle was only a few years older than us—something of a relief, since many gray-haired gentlemen had graced our door. Even from this height, I could see a face with strong, handsome features and jet-black hair pulled back into the short fashionable tail popular on both sides of the Sunset Sea.
“Mister Doyle,” said Jasper, taking the newcomer’s hand. “It is an honor.”
“Call me Warren, please. We might as well drop formalities since I plan on being quite straightforward here. It’s how I am—and, well, I hope you’ll forgive me. I’m no good with small talk.”
Jasper exchanged the briefest of looks with his son and then returned his smile to Warren. “Of course. Please—sit down.”
Warren did, clasping his hands in his lap. A daytime visit would have allowed more casual attire, but he was dressed formally in a russet coat and a vest of gold brocade. He could have attended our ball right now.
“I’m here about one of your girls. The top one—the one who led your procession, in the gray dress.”
I tensed.
“Do you mean Adelaide?” asked Cedric uncertainly.
“Is that her name?” asked Warren, brightening. “She is the best one, right? Isn’t that how your ranking works? She had brown hair—well, a golden brown. Very lovely.”
Mira grinned beside me. “He got your hair right. That should make you happy.”
“‘Best’ is a subjective term,” said Jasper delicately. “All of our girls are—”
Warren smiled kindly. “You don’t need to use your usual tactics on me. You don’t need to try to sell them all to me. I’m already sold. I want her. I need her. You see, I’ve been given governorship of the new colony of Hadisen.”
Jasper beamed, but I knew how he must be calculating. “Congratulations. That’s an incredible accomplishment for a man of your age, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Thank you,” said Warren, nodding eagerly. “I’m very, very fortunate. And that’s why it’s imperative I have an exemplary wife. She will be the first lady of the colony. Even in its rough stages, all will look to her as an example. And once we’re truly established, she’ll be the one in charge of all social affairs in my household. I need someone who excels in all areas—someone intelligent, cultured, and worthy of admiration. I assume, as your top girl—”
“Our diamond,” corrected Jasper. “We call her our diamond.”
“Your diamond then. I assume she must have surpassed all the others in every test. If I am to succeed in this venture, I must have an incomparable lady.”
I could feel the eyes of my companions upon me, trying to gauge my reaction. Mostly, I was stunned. After never hearing my name come up, I was shocked at this turn of events. There could be no greater position than a governor’s wife. And it hadn’t escaped my notice that it had been my inner qualities and aptitude that caught his attention as much as my looks. Most of the men who’d come through here had made beauty a top priority.
“She is certainly incomparable,” said Jasper. He managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “And I’ll tell you a secret—our opening ball is coming soon, so you only have to wait a few days to meet her.”
“I don’t really need to meet her,” said Warren. “I’m sure she’s exceptional. And I’d like to seal a marriage contract now.”
“That’s not . . . how it works,” said Cedric stiffly. “The girls meet all potential suitors in our social season. Then they choose.”
Warren was undaunted. “I don’t want to risk losing her to someone who might woo her with a lot of flash and no substance. I’ll put out a price to make it worth your while for removing her early—one I might not be willing to match if I have to wait. One thousand gold if you do the deal right now.”
Some of the girls near me gasped. There’d never been a sum like that offered in the Glittering Court’s history. It was double my starting fee.
Even Jasper couldn’t believe it. “That is a very generous sum, Mister Doyle. Warren.”
“I know what I’m asking is unorthodox,” explained Warren, almost sheepishly. “And that’s why I’m willing to compensate for altering your policy.”
“Understandable,” said Jasper, practically licking his lips. “And very considerate.”
“Our policy,” declared Cedric, shooting his father a warning glance, “is that she gets to see her options and choose. We can’t just sell her behind her back.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Warren. He seemed a little taken aback by Cedric’s tone. “I can meet her today and then seal our deal.”
“It would be a breach of our normal policy,” said Jasper. “But I’m sure, given the circumstance, there’d be no harm in her at least meeting him now and—”
“She gets to see her options and choose,” repeated Cedric. “It’s in her contract. No preemptive deals.”
I could tell Jasper was having a very difficult time maintaining his genial façade. He turned to Warren. “Forgive me; it’s clear this is a matter we must discuss at more length. Let us do so, and we’ll be in touch once we’ve made some decisions.”
Warren looked hesitant about leaving with things up in the air but finally gave a conciliatory nod. “Very well then. I look forward to your reply—and an early meeting before the ball. Thank you again for indulging me in my unorthodox approach.”
As soon as the Thorns had walked him out, Jasper pulled Cedric into their private office and shut the door. The rest of us retreated to our wing, where I was immediately accosted with questions and comments. I had no answers to give, and the chatter soon began to make my head ache. It was a relief when I was able to shut myself in my room with Mira. She gave me a sly smile.
“Well,” she said. “That was certainly an exciting turn to the day.”
I stretched out on my bed, still reeling. “That’s an understatement.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I don’t think I can do anything. The Thorns will decide.”
She sat down beside me. “If you went downstairs right now and said you’d take the deal, there’d be no protest. Not even from Cedric.”
I straightened up. “Do you think I should?”
“It’s not what I think that matters. But I know you’ve had your sights set high. And this is about as high as you can get.”
“It would certainly speak well for my future. I mean, that is what we’re here for.” Although we didn’t have to take the highest bidder’s offer, a man putting down a lot of money generally suggested he had the means to provide generously for his wife. It gave the Thorns a higher commission and also increased the bride’s surety money. “Although . . . it was kind of presumptuous, coming in here like that, wanting to buy ‘the best’ right now.”
Mira laughed. “It certainly was—though even he seemed to recognize that. There was a brazen and bumbling charm to it. At least he wasn’t one of the ones asking if he could buy ‘the Sirminican’ at a discount.”
I squeezed her hand. That was an offer we’d heard many times. “It was nice
that he seemed more concerned with my character than my looks.”
“He already saw you. He doesn’t have to worry about your looks.”
“But you wouldn’t take the deal. You still want to pay off your own contract.”
She shrugged. “I told you, it’s not about what I think. But no, I’d do as Cedric said and see the rest of my options. You can still choose him later.”
“Tamsin would’ve taken the deal,” I said sadly.
“Tamsin would’ve called for a priest and offered to marry him on the spot,” Mira said.
My heart sank. “Tamsin should have been the one getting the offer. She should have been the diamond.”
Word reached me later that Cedric had won out against his father: I wouldn’t be meeting Warren until the ball. I suspected Jasper had caved in the hopes that, seeing me with other men, Warren might end up offering more. In the coming days, as the household was whipped into the frenzy Cedric had predicted, I found I had mixed feelings about what had happened with Warren. I respected what Cedric had fought for. On the other hand, I worried I might have cost Cedric the commission he needed. Really, what else was there to look for? Marrying Warren would put me in the closest position I could get to my former lifestyle here in the colonies. Hadisen was in no danger from the Icori. It was simply unsettled land needing a society to thrive in it and work its gold mines.
Somehow, amidst the pre-ball tumult, I found a chance to finish the painting when Mistress Culpepper was away. A small window in the cellar offered remarkably good light, and stepping back one day, I was astonished that I really had captured Thodoros’s style. It was my greatest work. An inexperienced buyer certainly wouldn’t know any different. An art expert probably wouldn’t.
The cellar door creaked open, and I turned with a start, relaxing when I saw Cedric come down the stairs. He stopped next to me and stared.
“That’s it,” he said.
“That’s it,” I confirmed.
“Amazing. I thought the poppies were incredible the day we met, but this . . . this is something else altogether.” He continued studying it, transfixed. “I’ll smuggle this out of here tonight, over to my agent. He’ll evaluate it and let me know what he thinks it’ll get, but something tells me it’ll be high. Enough to cover my Westhaven stake.”
“You know what else would’ve helped with your stake?” I asked archly. “A twenty percent commission on one thousand gold.”
Cedric turned from the painting and met my eyes. “Really? You came all this way and prepared for a season of galas only to skip them and marry the first man who wants you? Without even meeting him?”
“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 Cedr
ic 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.