Midnight Jewel
Page 15
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We’d be assigned gemstone ranks based on the order of our scores. It wasn’t an exact system. It was more of a fanciful theme the Thorns had come up with to present us in Adoria. They wanted to dress us up in striking colors and embellishments and use the gemstones as a guide to who the more “valuable” girls were. Some jewel ranks were flexible, but the diamond was unquestionably the top one—and girls from the other three manors would be competing for it as well.
“We think you’re already the best,” Adelaide said loyally.
Tamsin managed an indulgent smile. She fretted about the jewel ranking constantly, and we reassured her each time. “I just need everyone else to think so too. There are forty girls involved now. I at least have to make the top three. I have to meet the best men.”
“You will,” I said.
“And we’ll do anything to help you.” Adelaide’s sober mien began to turn mischievous. “Including not distracting you with Mira’s amazing accents. I guess I’ll go read up on Female Studies.”
Even Tamsin laughed at that, and although she never broke her studying that night, I noticed she seemed to smile a little more.
But the tension doubled the following morning when our first round of exams began. Even Adelaide felt the heavy mood. Cedric came to stay with us for the week and offered words of encouragement if we passed in the hall. Mostly, he tried to stay out of our way.
Some exams were written while others required performances and demonstrations. For Professor Brewer’s, we each had to stand in front of the class and read a passage aloud that we’d never seen before. I held my paper tightly, trying not to ruin it with my sweaty palms. It described the wool industry in northern Osfrid and contained several words I’d never heard. I used what I knew of Osfridian phonetics and hazarded guesses at their pronunciation. When I finished and looked up from the paper, Professor Brewer’s proud expression told me I’d done well.
After that, I felt as though a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I still worked hard on the rest of the tests. I served tea with grace. I played simple tunes on the piano. I whirled across the ballroom, counting steps in my head. I wrote essays on Osfridian culture, history, and fashion. When the week finally ended, I knew I hadn’t done everything perfectly, but my scores would be solid. I would pass. The question would be where I landed in the ranks, but that was mostly a curiosity. What mattered was getting to Adoria.
The whole house breathed a collective sigh of relief at our hard-won freedom. Smiles returned, and spirits lifted—especially when Mistress Masterson told us we could have a party to celebrate Vaiel’s Day. It was the day the orthodox church of Uros honored Vaiel, one of the six glorious angels, with feasts and parties. It was also the shortest day of the year and was celebrated by Alanzans with prayers and rituals to Deanziel, one of the six wayward angels, as they contemplated the return of the light. Both groups treated the day as a major holiday. Each one thought the other had corrupted it.
Cedric slipped quietly away after sunset, trekking out into the snowy night to honor all twelve angels in his own manner. He made it back for dinner and the party that followed, and I let myself truly enjoy the festivities. A few of our instructors celebrated with us, and we all played games and drank sweet wine after eating. Future husbands dominated the conversation, and I didn’t mind. There was such a feeling of hope and excitement buzzing through us all. It made me believe anything was possible. I’d find Lonzo. Maybe even a husband I liked. And I’d have Tamsin and Adelaide in my life forever, no matter where our marriages took us. After seeing so much darkness over the years, I now had a world opening up before me that was filled with joy and possibility.
Moods stayed cheery in the following days as we waited for results. The exception was Adelaide, which surprised both Tamsin and me. Our friend spoke little and often seemed lost in uncharacteristically dark thoughts. She was also one of the first to race downstairs when the announcement came that our results were in. We all nearly tripped over each other as we crowded into the library, only remembering our manners when we caught sight of Jasper, Mistress Masterson, and a dressmaker named Miss Garrison standing in a line before us. We fell into neat rows, listening in respectful silence as Jasper made one of his inspiring speeches. Then, Mistress Masterson set out the list of scores with a smile, and order broke as we rushed forward.
I found my name and could hardly believe what I saw. Seventh. Seventh of forty. A rush of pleasure and pride swept over me. Apparently I’d learned more than just linguistics. After Tamsin, I had the highest score in our house, though there was a considerable point difference between us. Her score had been nearly perfect. Adelaide had landed right in the middle at nineteen, and Clara—shooting me a scowl—came in at eight.
Adelaide and I hugged, breaking when a familiar voice cut through the din. “How am I ranked third? The girls above me have the same score as me!”
I turned around—along with half the room—to see Tamsin confronting Mistress Masterson. “Yes. You all tied—it was very impressive. Really, what it came down to is aesthetics,” Mistress Masterson explained. “Winnifred, the first girl, would look so lovely in the diamond coloring. Ruby’s the next most precious stone, and that obviously wouldn’t suit you with your hair. So third, as a sapphire, seemed like—”
“Sapphire?” interrupted Tamsin. “Sapphire? Everyone knows green is my best color. Isn’t an emerald rarer than a sapphire?”
“They’re close enough. And my green fabric hasn’t arrived yet,” said Miss Garrison. Several of her assistants had already entered with bolts of cloth, ready to start taking our measurements. “Isn’t likely to show until about a week before you sail.”
“And the categories are flexible—it’s more of a gemstone range we’re going for,” added Mistress Masterson. “We thought it best just to go forward with sapphire so that she could start on your wardrobe. Otherwise, she’d be working at the last minute.”
“Well, maybe she could just sew a little damned faster,” snapped Tamsin.
“We think you’re already the best,” Adelaide said loyally.
Tamsin managed an indulgent smile. She fretted about the jewel ranking constantly, and we reassured her each time. “I just need everyone else to think so too. There are forty girls involved now. I at least have to make the top three. I have to meet the best men.”
“You will,” I said.
“And we’ll do anything to help you.” Adelaide’s sober mien began to turn mischievous. “Including not distracting you with Mira’s amazing accents. I guess I’ll go read up on Female Studies.”
Even Tamsin laughed at that, and although she never broke her studying that night, I noticed she seemed to smile a little more.
But the tension doubled the following morning when our first round of exams began. Even Adelaide felt the heavy mood. Cedric came to stay with us for the week and offered words of encouragement if we passed in the hall. Mostly, he tried to stay out of our way.
Some exams were written while others required performances and demonstrations. For Professor Brewer’s, we each had to stand in front of the class and read a passage aloud that we’d never seen before. I held my paper tightly, trying not to ruin it with my sweaty palms. It described the wool industry in northern Osfrid and contained several words I’d never heard. I used what I knew of Osfridian phonetics and hazarded guesses at their pronunciation. When I finished and looked up from the paper, Professor Brewer’s proud expression told me I’d done well.
After that, I felt as though a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I still worked hard on the rest of the tests. I served tea with grace. I played simple tunes on the piano. I whirled across the ballroom, counting steps in my head. I wrote essays on Osfridian culture, history, and fashion. When the week finally ended, I knew I hadn’t done everything perfectly, but my scores would be solid. I would pass. The question would be where I landed in the ranks, but that was mostly a curiosity. What mattered was getting to Adoria.
The whole house breathed a collective sigh of relief at our hard-won freedom. Smiles returned, and spirits lifted—especially when Mistress Masterson told us we could have a party to celebrate Vaiel’s Day. It was the day the orthodox church of Uros honored Vaiel, one of the six glorious angels, with feasts and parties. It was also the shortest day of the year and was celebrated by Alanzans with prayers and rituals to Deanziel, one of the six wayward angels, as they contemplated the return of the light. Both groups treated the day as a major holiday. Each one thought the other had corrupted it.
Cedric slipped quietly away after sunset, trekking out into the snowy night to honor all twelve angels in his own manner. He made it back for dinner and the party that followed, and I let myself truly enjoy the festivities. A few of our instructors celebrated with us, and we all played games and drank sweet wine after eating. Future husbands dominated the conversation, and I didn’t mind. There was such a feeling of hope and excitement buzzing through us all. It made me believe anything was possible. I’d find Lonzo. Maybe even a husband I liked. And I’d have Tamsin and Adelaide in my life forever, no matter where our marriages took us. After seeing so much darkness over the years, I now had a world opening up before me that was filled with joy and possibility.
Moods stayed cheery in the following days as we waited for results. The exception was Adelaide, which surprised both Tamsin and me. Our friend spoke little and often seemed lost in uncharacteristically dark thoughts. She was also one of the first to race downstairs when the announcement came that our results were in. We all nearly tripped over each other as we crowded into the library, only remembering our manners when we caught sight of Jasper, Mistress Masterson, and a dressmaker named Miss Garrison standing in a line before us. We fell into neat rows, listening in respectful silence as Jasper made one of his inspiring speeches. Then, Mistress Masterson set out the list of scores with a smile, and order broke as we rushed forward.
I found my name and could hardly believe what I saw. Seventh. Seventh of forty. A rush of pleasure and pride swept over me. Apparently I’d learned more than just linguistics. After Tamsin, I had the highest score in our house, though there was a considerable point difference between us. Her score had been nearly perfect. Adelaide had landed right in the middle at nineteen, and Clara—shooting me a scowl—came in at eight.
Adelaide and I hugged, breaking when a familiar voice cut through the din. “How am I ranked third? The girls above me have the same score as me!”
I turned around—along with half the room—to see Tamsin confronting Mistress Masterson. “Yes. You all tied—it was very impressive. Really, what it came down to is aesthetics,” Mistress Masterson explained. “Winnifred, the first girl, would look so lovely in the diamond coloring. Ruby’s the next most precious stone, and that obviously wouldn’t suit you with your hair. So third, as a sapphire, seemed like—”
“Sapphire?” interrupted Tamsin. “Sapphire? Everyone knows green is my best color. Isn’t an emerald rarer than a sapphire?”
“They’re close enough. And my green fabric hasn’t arrived yet,” said Miss Garrison. Several of her assistants had already entered with bolts of cloth, ready to start taking our measurements. “Isn’t likely to show until about a week before you sail.”
“And the categories are flexible—it’s more of a gemstone range we’re going for,” added Mistress Masterson. “We thought it best just to go forward with sapphire so that she could start on your wardrobe. Otherwise, she’d be working at the last minute.”
“Well, maybe she could just sew a little damned faster,” snapped Tamsin.