That put me in the courtyard by our stables, which were now darkened with twilight’s shadows. Servants bustled about here, winding things down for the night, and no one noticed me as I huddled in the darkness. This was the most dangerous part of this endeavor, the part where it could all fall apart if anyone got a good look at me. I had to walk across the courtyard, toward the stable’s back gates. The spring weather had cooled considerably, and I wasn’t the only one with a hood. I just prayed no one would take a look at my face as I walked.
The stable boy guarding the back gate was busy whittling, his attention turned to anyone trying to get in, not out. If he noticed me, he saw only the back of one of the servant girls who came and went about the household’s tasks. Once I was out of the enclosure, I hurried around the corner of our home, out toward the busy thoroughfare of our front street. Traffic on it had slowed since earlier in the day, but there were still horses and pedestrians out for the evening, their steps clattering on the cobblestone street. Most didn’t give me a second glance. I was a lady’s maid, not a lady.
An errant priest of Uros stood on a corner, preaching against the Alanzan heretics. He pointed accusingly at me, his finger right up in my face. “You wouldn’t worship the sun and moon, would you, girl?”
There was a fanatic, feverish gleam in his eyes, and I was so astonished that I froze before him.
“You! Stay right there!”
I gasped as two city sentries came running toward me. I was barely across the street from my home! How had they known to come for me already?
But it wasn’t me they were after. They seized the priest, one holding the thrashing man while the other bound his wrists. “How dare you lay hands on one of Uros’s chosen!” bellowed the priest.
One of the sentries snorted. “You’re no true follower of Uros. See how strong your faith is after a few nights in prison.” He dragged the shrieking priest away while the other sentry turned to me. I quickly looked down, feigning shyness, so he wouldn’t see my face.
“You all right, miss? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine. Thank you. Sir.”
He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what the world’s coming to when heretics walk the street. You’d best get back to your master’s house before it gets darker.”
I bobbed my head and quickly walked away. The religious atmosphere was dangerous in Osfrid these days. These radical wandering priests might claim to worship the one god Uros, but their practices challenged the established church almost as much as the Alanzans and their fallen angels. The orthodox priests and officials were no longer as tolerant as they’d once been, and it took very little to make you suspect.
It was a relief when I reached the Glittering Court’s carriage. It was two blocks away in the opposite direction, exactly as Cedric had told Ada it would be.
It was all black, sleek and shiny, with the Glittering Court’s seal on the outside: a circle of golden chain with little jewels interspersed between the links. The carriage was of modest size, not nearly as grand as the one my grandmother or I rode in, but I supposed it would be extraordinary to a girl who knew no different. I walked around to the front where a driver sat waiting over four white horses. I called a greeting to him, loud enough to make my voice heard over the noise from the street but hopefully not enough to attract the attention of the great house on the other side of it.
“Hey,” I called. “You’re here to pick me up. My name is Adelaide.”
I’d decided on that when I concocted this plan. I’d made Ada disappear and received her promise that she wouldn’t mention any of this, but as far as the Glittering Court officials knew, they had the right girl. Calling myself Ada didn’t seem right. What I was doing already felt like theft, but I certainly couldn’t go by my own name anymore. So, I’d use the beautiful name Ada had been given at birth, the one she had trouble spelling. I felt like I deserved it, just as I deserved this opportunity that terrified her.
The driver gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well, hop in. We’re meeting Master Jasper and Master Cedric along the way.”
Master Cedric.
As much as I’d enjoyed looking at him, seeing him now could most certainly create a problem in this brilliant plan I’d created . . . but I’d have to deal with that later. For now, I had other issues.
“Hop in?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “Aren’t you going to come down and open the door for me?”
The man gave an amused snort. “Listen to you, acting like a lady already. You aren’t a ‘jewel’ yet, missy. Now get in—we’ve got two more stops to make, and one’s by the Sirminican district. I don’t want to be out there any later than I have to. Those Sirminicans will rob you blind if you’re not watching ’em.”
I fumbled with the coach’s handle and finally figured out how to open it. Ungracefully, I half-stepped, half-tumbled into the carriage’s interior, without the benefit of a stool or pillow offered by a servant. Inside, the carriage was dim, lit only by what light made its way in through the smoky windows. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that the cushioned seat I sat on was made of a burgundy velvet of middling quality.
Without bothering to make sure I was comfortable, the driver set the horses on their way, causing me to jerk forward. I gripped the walls for support, staring out the darkened glass as the lights of my family’s home moved farther and farther away. I held my breath as I watched the retreating house, expecting a group of servants to come tearing out at any moment, swarming the carriage until it stopped and released me. No one came, though. The house went about its nighttime duties, soon vanishing into the night. Or maybe I was the one vanishing. Maybe I would be forgotten quickly, my face and voice gone from the minds of those I’d once known. The notion made me sadder than I’d expected, and I had to shift my focus back to the plan.
Presuming no one thought to check on my headache tonight, I’d have until morning before my absence was discovered, at which point I’d hopefully be long gone into the country. And that was assuming, of course, that Ada didn’t get cold feet and come back—if she’d even left the city. If things were on track, she’d have already bought passage with some group of travelers heading north.
There were a lot of “if”s in this plan, a lot of things that could go wrong.
The rocking carriage made its way through the city, into parts I’d never seen before. I was terribly curious about it all, but as the evening deepened, I could see less and less by the glow of the gas lamps used to illuminate the streets. The carriage finally came to a halt, and I heard a muffled conversation. Moments later, the door opened, and a girl my age stood framed in the doorway, her fiery red hair shining even in the twilight. She shot me a calculating look and then, like me, climbed in without benefit of a stool. Only she managed it better. She shut the door, and the carriage continued on its jerky ride.
We sat there, sizing each other up in silence as we moved down the cobblestone streets. Light from outside lamps came and went, creating a flickering show of shadows inside. When that intermittent illumination came, I could see that her dress was even plainer than mine, threadbare in some places. At last, she spoke, her voice tinged slightly with a working-class accent: “How’d you get your hair like that? All those curls lying just so?”
It wasn’t a question I’d expected. It also seemed blunt until I realized she thought we were of equal social rank. “It’s naturally wavy,” I said.
She nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes. I can tell, but the way those curls are all arranged so perfectly . . . I’ve tried that myself, like the highborn ladies do? I think I’d need half a dozen hands to do it.”
I nearly said I had had half a dozen hands helping me and then bit off the words. I’d thought I was so clever changing into Ada’s dress, but had gone off on this adventure with the same elaborately styled hair I’d had from this morning—which my maids had helped curl and pin in the latest fashion, cascad
ing all around my shoulders. I gave my companion a tight smile back.
“Someone helped me,” I said. I thought about Ada’s backstory and tried to make it my own. “Since it’s a, uh, special occasion. I worked as a lady’s maid, you see, so I have friends who are really good at this kind of thing.”
“A lady’s maid? Well, that’s bloody lucky. I wouldn’t want to leave that post. Explains why you talk so well—you’ll have a leg up on the rest of us.” She sounded impressed . . . and also a little envious.
“It’s not a competition,” I said quickly.
There was another fleeting flash of light from outside, showing me a wry expression on her face. “The hell it isn’t. How we do and how well we learn affects who they offer us to as wives. I’m going to be a banker’s wife. Or a statesman’s. Not some farmer’s.” She paused to reconsider. “Unless he’s some dirty rich plantation owner, where I can order around the servants and the household. But an ordinary farmwife? Sweeping floors and making cheese? No, thanks. Not that any old farmer could afford one of us. My mother heard from one of her friends that the Glittering Court got a marriage price of four hundred gold dollars for one of their girls. Can you even imagine that sort of money?”
Vaguely, I recalled Cedric talking about suitors making “offers.” The contract had further elaborated how the Glittering Court’s agents made a commission off each girl’s marriage price. Cedric might have spoken in lofty tones about his new nobility providing a service to the New World, but it was obvious this was a huge money-making venture for the Thorn family.
The other girl was regarding me strangely, waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry—you’ll have to forgive me if I sound scattered. This was all kind of last-minute,” I explained. “The family I worked for was dismissing most of their staff, and so when Ced—Master Cedric was looking for girls, someone referred me to him.”
“Oh, you’re one of his, huh? I heard about that too,” my companion said. “He hasn’t ever recruited before, you see. His father’s one of the best procurers, and Master Cedric made a big deal about how he could be just as good, so his father let him pick a couple of girls. Caused a big family stir.”
“You sure do know a lot,” I said. She’d apparently received a more extensive pitch than Ada and me.
“I was delivering laundry to their house,” she explained. “My mother washes clothes, and I helped her. But no more.” She held up her hands and studied them, but I couldn’t get a good look. “I’m not meant to be a laundress. I’m never washing anyone’s damned clothes again.”
Her ambition radiated off her. I wasn’t sure if that sort of initiative would be useful to me or not, but when in doubt, I’d found friendliness was usually the best course of action.
“I’m Adelaide,” I told her warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss . . . ?”
She hesitated, as though deciding if I was worth the next piece of information. “Wright. Tamsin Wright.”
The carriage began to slow, bringing us to our next stop. Both of us dropped the thread of our conversation as we waited to see who would enter next. When the door opened and revealed a girl standing outside, Tamsin’s breath caught. At first, I thought the poor lighting was distorting the newcomer’s appearance. Then, I realized the tawny hue of her skin was natural. It was almost like caramel. I recalled the driver saying we were going near the Sirminican quarter. It was one of the poorest districts in the capital, and I could just make out a few dirty, run-down buildings in the distance. I knew by reputation that it was overcrowded with refugees from Sirminica, which had been locked in civil war for the last few years. Once, it had been a great nation, and its monarchy had even intermarried with ours. Rebels had recently overthrown the royal family, and now the country was generally avoided as a chaotic war zone. This girl waiting by the coach’s door, with her lovely skin and luxurious black hair, bore all the signs of being one of those refugees.
She was also stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful.
The driver had hopped down to admit her, giving her a wary look as she stepped forward. She carried herself with dignity and, after glancing between Tamsin and me, settled in on my side of the carriage. Her dress was even more worn than Tamsin’s, but a shawl around her shoulders, stitched with intricate embroidery, was exceptional.
Recalling his slurs, I wondered if the driver had come down to ensure she didn’t rob us blind. When he continued waiting by the open door, I realized more was happening. Soon, two male voices carried to my ears—one of which I recognized.
“—pretty enough, I suppose, but you have no idea how hard it’s going to be to sell a Sirminican.”
“That’s not going to matter—not over there.”
“You don’t know ‘over there’ like I do,” came the biting reply. “You just threw away your commission.”
“That’s not—”
The words were abruptly cut off when the two speakers reached the carriage’s doorway. One of them, an older man in his forties, had only the faintest touch of silver in his brown hair. There was a dashing look about him, and he bore enough resemblance to Cedric Thorn to make me realize this must be his father, Jasper.
The other man joining us was, of course, Cedric Thorn himself.
My mouth went dry as our gazes locked. Even while being chastised by his father, Cedric had swaggered up to the carriage with that same self-assured ease I’d seen previously. Now, he came to an abrupt halt, so suddenly that he nearly tripped over his own feet. He stared at me like I was an apparition. His mouth opened to speak and then shut abruptly as though, perhaps, he didn’t trust himself.
Jasper beamed when he saw Tamsin, oblivious to the silent drama occurring between Cedric and me. “So lovely to see you again, my dear. I trust your pickup was fine?”
Tamsin’s earlier calculation and wariness vanished as she returned his smile. “Oh, everything’s been lovely, Mister Thorn. The carriage is beautiful, and I’ve already made a new friend.”
His eyes fell on me, and I had to drag myself away from Cedric’s pinning gaze. I noticed that Jasper, at least, regarded me with approval. “And you must be our other lovely companion. Ada, right?” Jasper extended his hand to me, and after several awkward moments, I realized he expected to me to shake it. I did, hoping my unfamiliarity with the gesture didn’t show. “You, I have no doubt, will have men beating down our door in Adoria.”
I wet my lips, having difficulty finding my voice. “Th-thank you, sir. And you can call me Adelaide.”
Somehow, that comment seemed to snap Cedric out of his daze. “Oh. Is that what you’re calling yourself now?”
“It’s an improvement,” I said pointedly. “Don’t you think?”
When Cedric didn’t answer, Jasper nudged him. “Stop delaying. We need to get going.”
Cedric studied me a beat more, and I felt as though we both stood on a precipice. He was the one who’d determine which way we tipped. “Yes,” he said at last. “Let’s go.”
Jasper entered ahead of him, sitting beside Tamsin and taking up most of the seat on that side. Obligingly, the Sirminican girl scooted over on our side, creating extra space. Recognizing the cue, I moved as well. After a slight hesitation, Cedric sat down beside me. It still made for close quarters, and our arms and legs touched. My grandmother would have been scandalized. He barely moved, and I could feel that his body was as rigid as my own, both of us tense as we came to terms with this new situation.
Most of the subsequent conversation was carried by Jasper and Tamsin. I learned the Sirminican girl was called Mira, but she said as little as Cedric and I did. I commented once on the beauty of her shawl, and she drew it closer. “It was my mother’s,” she said softly, her words laced with a Sirminican accent. There was a sadness in her voice I understood, one that stirred up an ache in my chest that had never entirely gone away. Without knowing anything else about her, I ins
tantly felt a connection and asked her no more.
When the carriage came to a full stop after about twenty minutes, Jasper looked up with satisfaction. “Finally. The gates. Once we’re outside the city, we can get some real speed.” We could hear agitated voices on the other side of the carriage door, and as the delay increased, Jasper’s expression grew annoyed. “What’s taking so long?” He opened the door and leaned out, calling to the driver.
The driver hurried to the door, two gate guards behind him. “Sorry, Mister Thorn. They’re checking everyone leaving. Looking for some girl.”
“Not some girl,” corrected one of the guards harshly. “A young noblewoman. Seventeen years old. A countess.”
I stopped breathing.
“Who are these girls?” demanded the other guard, peering inside.
Jasper relaxed. “Certainly not countesses. We’re with the Glittering Court. These are common girls, bound for Adoria.”
The guard was suspicious, studying each of us in turn. I wished again I’d thought to change my hair.
“What’s this girl look like?” asked Jasper conversationally.
“Brown hair and blue eyes,” said one of the guards, his gaze lingering fractionally longer on me. “Same age as this lot. Ran away earlier this evening. There’s a reward.”
I almost felt indignant, since I liked to think my hair was more of a golden brown. But it was a common enough description that it could apply to half the girls in the city. The vaguer, the better.
“Well, we’ve got a Sirminican, a laundress, and a housemaid,” said Jasper. “If the reward’s big enough and you want to pass one of them off as a countess, be my guest, but I assure you, we’ve seen where they come from. Hardly posh conditions . . . although, Cedric, weren’t you in some noble’s house today? Isn’t that where you got Adelaide? Did you hear anything?”
The first guard’s gaze locked onto Cedric. “Sir? Where were you?”
Cedric had been staring straight ahead this whole time, perhaps hoping a lack of eye contact would render him invisible.