The Glittering Court

  Cedric was reluctant to stay at first, but as the rain turned into a nonstop sheet of water and the wind wailed around us, he finally conceded. “You wanted a storm,” he told me as we ate dinner. Everyone was tense as the storm grew in ferocity outside. Every so often the little cabin shuddered from a particularly strong blast of wind.

  I couldn’t sleep when we went to bed. The little girls around me were scared, and I told them soothing things I didn’t entirely believe, like that the storm was almost over and the cabin would hold. They eventually drifted off, but I still couldn’t manage it and got out of bed. Downstairs, I found I wasn’t the only one awake. Cedric sat on the kitchen table’s bench while Mister Marshall paced restlessly around. He glanced over but didn’t chastise me. “Stay away from the windows” was all he said before resuming his vigil.

  I sat down next to Cedric and laced my fingers with his. “Your home won’t survive this. You should have gotten that tarp.”

  “I don’t think a tarp could’ve stopped this. But we’ll be okay as long as the gold doesn’t blow away.”

  I stared off as the storm raged and felt old memories consume me. “It’s just like the ship.”

  “No.” He squeezed my hand. “You’re safe here. Your friends are safe.”

  I nodded, but it was hard not to shake that unease. I remembered that feeling of being knocked around at sea, my stomach rolling as the world turned on its side. And off on the dark water, the Gray Gull tossed to and fro . . .

  The storm eventually quieted, but I didn’t trust it. “The eye,” Mister Marshall confirmed. “We’re halfway through.”

  Sure enough, the lull passed, and the storm renewed its fury. I grew tense again. Cedric sat on the floor (now covered in straw) and put his back to the log wall. He beckoned me down, and I sat between his outstretched legs, leaning back against his chest. Mister Marshall glanced at us but didn’t seem particularly interested, even when Cedric wrapped his arms around my waist.

  Cedric smoothed my hair back. “Get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  A particularly powerful blast of wind slammed into the cabin, making the walls shake. I flinched, and Cedric readjusted his hold on me.

  “The ship,” I said. “I just can’t stop thinking about it. And you know what else? I can’t stop thinking about Tamsin thinking about the ship. I know that sounds weird. But if they’re getting some of this back in Cape Triumph, she must be so scared.”

  “She’s in a house better built than this one. And she’s with Mira. Surely Mira can fight the forces of nature.”

  “Mira is a force of nature.”

  Somehow, amazingly, the raging wind and rain faded to background noise over time. I stopped jumping at every loud sound, and dozed against Cedric. I woke to him gently helping me to stand. “The worst is over. It’s getting quieter. Let’s get to real beds.” Stifling a yawn of his own, he guided me upstairs to the girls’ room. I climbed into bed with them and fell asleep before Cedric even shut the door.

  When morning came, the blue sky and bright sunlight would have made anyone believe the storm had been a dream. Closer scrutiny proved otherwise. Trees and limbs had fallen all over the property, but none had hit the buildings. Mister Marshall’s diligent work on the cabin had paid off, though the barn roof had sustained some damage, as had the fence surrounding his fields. He and his family immediately set to work on repairs, and Cedric and I rode off to White Rock.

  There, we found a wide array of storm damage. The more hastily thrown-together businesses and homes hadn’t fared well, though most of their owners had been able to seek shelter with neighbors whose structures were sturdier. Residents now worked side by side to rebuild, uniting in a way that stirred up that feeling within me about the promise this new frontier held.

  With everyone so busy, it was a difficult time to recruit workers for Cedric’s claim. When we heard that Warren had fought through the storm and arrived late last night from Denham, we decided to change plans and appeal to him directly. We still didn’t know if Elias had been responsible for the harness accident, but Warren had seemed legitimately interested in our success.

  The governor’s home was a newly built estate, boasting luxuries like wallpaper and brass sconces. Elias’s snide words rang in my head as a servant led us to a fine rug in the foyer: “From a distance, I wouldn’t even think you’re a woman at all.” My practical attire was worn, my skin darkened from the sun. The only styling attempt I made anymore was halfheartedly tying my hair back.

  I felt particularly inadequate when I caught sight of Warren in his typically impeccable attire. He was walking out a man I didn’t know, saying, “I assure you, the rumors are just that. There are no Lorandians moving across the western colonies. No Icori either. Times are becoming stable, and so people start creating phantoms.”

  When the visitor was gone, Warren turned his attention to us. A brief, raised eyebrow was his only indication of surprise at our appearance. “I’m so happy to see you again, Adelaide.” Then, belatedly to Cedric: “And you too, of course.”

  “How was your journey?” I asked politely.

  “Rough.” Warren’s face fell. “The storm blew up while we were crossing the bay last night. We . . . lost a few people.” He studied me a few moments before going on. “I would’ve stayed in Cape Triumph had I known the risks, but here we are. Elias tells me you two have some exciting news.”

  Like a conjured demon, Elias slinked into the room. Cedric held out the gold nugget. “I found it after only a little digging.”

  Elias took the nugget but held it at arm’s length, like it might be toxic. “Bigger than that last bit you came flashing around. And it seems authentic.”

  “Of course it is,” said Warren, snatching it away. Enthusiasm filled his features. “And this could make both our fortunes. Have you told anyone?”

  I hesitated. “No . . . but we were hoping to hire some men today now that this is confirmed. Of course, with the storm—”

  “Don’t,” interrupted Warren. “Don’t tell anyone yet.”

  “I understand the need for control of the situation,” said Cedric. “But I also need to get moving on this.”

  “Don’t speak to Mister Doyle that way,” snapped Elias.

  Warren gave him a withering look. “He’s right. We do need to move—but I’m not delaying because of any need for control. I’m delaying for your own safety.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “As much as I want to believe Hadisen is a wonderful, righteous place . . .” Warren shook his head. “Well, the lure of gold is irresistible to some—it makes them do terrible things. There are still raiders and bandits who’ll swoop in on prosperous claims to scavenge what they can—and aren’t afraid to hurt those who own them. Aside from having the proper workers and equipment, I’d like to make sure you have proper security before this project begins.”

  It was a hard argument to counter. We’d all heard stories of claim-raiding brigands, but I’d never expected we’d run into them. I’d never expected our claim would have the potential to be so rich.

  “That’s very kind of you,” Cedric said at last.

  Warren gave him a wry smile. “And don’t worry—I will make sure this is done expediently. Don’t worry about your timeline.”

  I hoped he was as sincere as he seemed. “Thank you.”

  Warren promised he’d have news for us soon. A servant came forward to show us out, but I lingered a moment with Warren, unable to hold back my curiosity.

  “How is your search for a bride coming?” I asked softly. “I expected you to be married by now.”

  “I expected it too,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m considering a few possibilities, but . . . well, you’re a tough act to follow.”

  I found it odd he’d be considering any possibilities, seeing as how certain things had seemed with Tamsin when I left. ?
??I’m sorry,” I said, needing to say something.

  “No need to be. It’s over and done.” He regarded me speculatively. “Have you heard any news from Cape Triumph? From the other girls in your cohort?”

  “I had a letter from Tamsin that she sent a while ago. Nothing from Mira yet.”

  “Mira . . .” I’d seen him have several conversations with her, but the confusion on his face seemed legitimate.

  “My Sirminican friend,” I prompted.

  “Ah, yes. Her. Of course. The one interested in books.”

  Now I was lost. “Books?”

  “Whenever we hosted events at my parents’ home, she was always asking about books. Mother isn’t as . . .” He paused to give me an apologetic look. “She isn’t as open-minded as we are, so she was more than happy to let your friend stay in the library as long as she liked.”

  “Of course she was,” I said. Typical Viola, hiding away “unsavory” elements from her party.

  Cedric and I returned to White Rock’s central district with mixed feelings. “More delays before we can get married. More sleepless nights,” I teased.

  “Well, I think the sleepless nights will actually come after we’re married, but yes . . . it’s frustrating.” We came to a stop, and he stared off at the busy White Rock residents and their rebuilding. “And he’s not wrong about bandits. Sully was telling me about some. It happens.”

  “I really need to meet this Sully.”

  Cedric smiled fondly. “He’s a character, that’s for—”

  “Mister Thorn?”

  We both turned around at the unfamiliar voice. But when I got a good look at the speaker, I realized he wasn’t so unfamiliar after all. I immediately froze up, but Cedric recovered quickly.

  “Mister Garrett,” said Cedric, extending his hand in greeting. “A pleasure to see you. I didn’t know the McGraw Agency had business out here in the wilderness.”

  Silas Garrett, the royal investigative agent, regarded us speculatively. “His Majesty has business in all the colonies, and I am but his humble servant. You . . .” He frowned, taking in my rough clothes and disheveled hair. “You were one of the girls at Wisteria Hollow?”

  I was getting tired of having the difference in my state constantly being reinforced. “Yes. I’m Adelaide Bailey.”

  I stated my assumed name firmly. I didn’t know what had happened with the search for my former self, but if he’d seen my portrait, I was pretty sure he would’ve identified me immediately. Surely I hadn’t changed that much.

  “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you girls married up? Unless you’ve found some successful prospector . . .” Again, his tone told me he found that hard to believe, given my appearance.

  “Things change,” I said. “And you never know—anyone can make their fortune out here. But it’s certainly a lot of hard work.”

  “Hard, sweaty, dirty work,” Cedric confirmed. “Not like the glamorous life of a McGraw agent.”

  Silas guffawed. “Not that glamorous. Lots of hard and dirty work there too.”

  Cedric wore the bright, dazzled look of someone in the throes of hero worship. “Come on, don’t ruin it for us. I don’t suppose you can tell us anything about what you’re working on? The case you mentioned that was so top secret?”

  “Still top secret,” said Silas. His tone was gruff, but I got the impression he liked the attention.

  I picked up on Cedric’s lead. “What about your associate’s case? That missing noblewoman? You can tell us about that, can’t you?”

  “Not much to tell, I’m afraid. That other agent got delayed up north, and I’m sure last night’s storm hasn’t helped things. But I expect he’ll arrive soon. He may end up out here, for all I know. Rumor has it the lady in question might have fled to some of the outer settlements.” Again, his eyes fell on me, and I laughed.

  “I have a hard time believing that—at least if she’s anything like the noblewomen I worked around. I remember our household was in an uproar when my lady cracked a nail just before some fancy gala. Someone like her could never handle this.” I held out my hands and pulled off some of the wrappings. The bleeding had stopped overnight, but they still looked pretty terrible. Silas actually flinched.

  “My goodness,” he said, looking away. “That . . . must hurt quite a bit.”

  “That’s life out here, Mister McGraw.” Cedric gave him a polite nod of farewell. “And now we’ve got other things to attend to. Good luck with your case.”

  We strolled away casually, but I groaned as soon as we were out of earshot. “Why do I have the feeling that the latest ‘rumor’ he heard came from Viola Doyle?”

  “Because, as previously established, you’re a smart and intelligent woman. And Viola Doyle is a vindictive one.”

  I came to a halt in front of some shops where men busily hammered away, making conversation difficult. “If that picture gets shown in Cape Triumph, the other agent doesn’t even have to come to Hadisen himself. All it’ll take is some enterprising bounty hunter trekking out here to claim his prize.”

  “You need to get married.”

  “A conversation we keep having over and over.”

  He started to respond, but then his eyes fell on something across the dusty road—or, more specifically, someone. “I know that man . . .” Cedric murmured. His brow furrowed and then smoothed out. “It can’t be. I need to go talk to him.”

  I nearly said I’d follow, but then I realized we were standing in front of the courier’s office. “Meet me back here,” I said.

  The office had sustained only a little damage and was still operating. The mail chief recognized me from our first day and produced two letters he’d been holding, one each for Cedric and me. Cedric’s was from his associate, Walter, back in Cape Triumph. I tucked it into my pocket and tore into my envelope. It was from Mira.

  Dear Adelaide,

  I know it hasn’t been that long, but life without you feels so strange. I’ve had you by my side for the last year, and there’s an emptiness now that you’re gone. Having Tamsin back helps a lot. She won’t talk much about Grashond and seems troubled when it comes up. But aside from those moments, she’s her same old self.

  She kept good on her promise to not accept any offers until Warren’s return, but of course, she still entertained plenty of gentlemen while he was gone. That’s Tamsin—always keeping her options open. Since Warren came back, it seems as though her loyalty paid off. He was pretty smitten the last time I saw him, and excited to bring her back to show her around Hadisen.

  And so, it seems as if both of you are going off to great adventures while I stay here. Only a few of us aren’t engaged yet, and I know I’ll have to choose soon. None of my suitors have really inspired a burning passion within me, so it may come down to simply accepting the one—the only one—who offers me the most respect and freedom. Surely that’s as good as love. I rather liked that lawyer you knew briefly, but he’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in the Glittering Court right now.

  Write when you can,

  Mira

  I reread the letter before folding it up. I missed Mira as much as she missed me, and it saddened me that she might be forced into something simply because she had no better options. But I couldn’t think too much about that—not with the perplexing information she presented about Tamsin. Warren had given no indication he’d settled on any girl, but Mira claimed he and Tamsin almost had a match, so much so that he wanted to bring her to Hadisen. What was the truth? The letter was dated only a few days ago and must have come with the mail on Warren’s ship last night. I supposed anything could have happened. Had they quarreled in so short a time? Had Tamsin decided she didn’t want to live on the frontier after all?

  Cedric reappeared as I pondered all this. That excited, knowing look was on his face, which meant he had some brilliant plan in place
. “Come on,” he said, steering me back to where Lizzie was tied up. “Let’s go back to the claim.”

  I’d expected him to take me back to the Marshalls’ since part of the day was gone, but I had no objections to this change. I was curious about how his place had fared in the storm.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, once we were on the trail heading away from the town. “Who was that man?”

  “The man the Galvestons mentioned. The Alanzan magistrate.”

  “Did you talk to him about marrying your heathen fiancée?”

  “Yes, actually.” Again, I could tell Cedric was bursting with eagerness. “And he’s the one who’s going to perform our wedding.”

  “When the contract’s taken care of?” I asked. “You’re planning ahead.”

  “Not then. Now. Tonight.” Cedric hesitated. “I mean, if you want to get married.”

  I craned my head back and tried to determine if he was serious. “How is that possible? We aren’t allowed to.”

  “Only in Warren’s contract are we not allowed to. Legally, if a magistrate will do it, we can. Robert—that’s his name—will do it and keep it secret.”

  “Okay . . .” His enthusiasm was contagious, but I still didn’t understand the entire plan. “If it’s secret, what’s the point? I mean, aside from the obvious joy of us being bound forever.”

  “The point is that if Silas Garrett’s friend shows up and outs you, then Robert produces the documents that prove our marriage,” Cedric explained. “It’ll create a lot of hassle with Warren and his contract if we haven’t settled those financial matters yet, but your grandmother won’t have a claim on you anymore as a married woman.”

  “And that ‘hassle’ with Warren is the reason we have to keep it secret in the meantime,” I realized. “It . . . it’s a backup plan.”

  “Exactly. Assuming you’re okay with an impromptu marriage. Once this all works out, we can have another ceremony with our friends. If we find enough gold, Father might forgive us and let you wear one of your Glittering Court dresses.”