The Glittering Court
Page 21

Several people near us heard her. The more she drank, the more she had trouble regulating her volume. I couldn’t decide if Cedric had done me a favor in hiring her or not.
A carriage driver called for the first group of passengers, which included Tamsin’s family. She watched them walk out, grief-stricken. As soon as they were gone, she turned on her heels and fled from the foyer. There was so much commotion and buzz from the other guests still waiting for their rides that no one but me noticed her departure. Even Mira was distracted, speaking with one of the workers. Snaking my way through the bystanders, I hurried off to find Tamsin, ignoring Rhonda’s shouts that I’d better not forget to come visit her.
I found Tamsin in our room, crying on her bed. Her head shot up when I entered, and she furiously wiped at her eyes. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be telling your aunt goodbye?”
I sat down beside Tamsin. “She’ll do just fine without me. I came because I was worried about you.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay to be homesick,” I said gently. “You don’t have to be ashamed about missing them.”
“I’m not ashamed . . . but I can’t let them—the others—see me like this. I can’t show weakness.”
“Loving your family isn’t weakness.”
“No . . . but around here? I have to be strong. All the time. Always moving forward.” That familiar determined look gleamed in her eyes again. “I can’t let anything stop me from getting what I want. What I need.” I didn’t say anything. I just put my hand over hers, and after a moment, she squeezed it. “I know everyone thinks I’m cold and unfeeling. That I’m mean to people.”
“You’ve never treated me that way.”
She glanced up. “Well, of course not. How else am I going to learn that damned Belsian waltz if you don’t practice with me? I have to keep you on my good side. But seriously . . .” She pulled away and clasped her hands in front of her. “You have to understand that I’m not doing all this because I’m just inherently a bitch. There’s a reason I have to do this—keep pushing to be the best and get the best in Adoria. If you only knew what I had—what I had on the line—” Her voice started to crack.
“Then tell me,” I pleaded. “Tell me, and maybe I can help you.”
“No.” Tamsin brushed away a few more rebellious tears. “If you knew, you’d never look at me the same.”
“You’re my friend. Nothing’s going to change how I feel about you.”
Yet, as I spoke, I wondered if I’d be so quick to believe those words if someone wanted to pry my secrets out of me. I was pretty sure neither Tamsin nor Mira would act the same if they knew they were sharing a room with one of the mighty Rupert’s descendants.
“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t risk it.”
“Okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I’m always here. You know I am.”
Her smile was weary but sincere. “I know.”
The door opened, and Mira rushed in. “There you are. Everyone’s— Are you okay?”
Tamsin got to her feet. “Fine, fine. What’s going on?”
Mira glanced at me for confirmation, and I gave her a small nod. She studied Tamsin a few more moments in concern before continuing.
“Everyone’s gone—the families. Jasper’s calling for all of us to assemble back in the ballroom.”
The last of Tamsin’s emotional outburst vanished. She gave herself a cursory check in the mirror and then followed Mira. “I knew it. I knew something was happening.”
We hurried back downstairs and found everyone in the ballroom. Tamsin was by no means the only one suffering from her loved ones’ departure, and I had to wonder if Jasper’s plan would really have the outcome he’d hoped for.
Mistress Masterson brought us to attention as Jasper stepped forward to speak. “I hope you all enjoyed your day. It was a true delight for me to meet the wonderful people who helped raise you. But their visit isn’t the only surprise you’re getting today.”
He waited, building up the tension in the room. Although his disposition was sunny and reassuring, Mistress Masterson’s strained expression told me all wasn’t well. My sense of foreboding returned.
“I hope you’re all excited about Adoria, because we’re going there—two months earlier than planned.”
Chapter 7
No one spoke. Everyone was too stunned. It was Jasper’s next proclamation that really elicited a reaction.
“As a result, you will also be taking your exams early. They’ll start in one week.”
Beside me, Tamsin gasped and put a hand to her chest. Other girls, wide-eyed, turned to each other in alarm and began whispering. “Hush,” warned Mistress Masterson. “Mister Thorn isn’t finished speaking.”
“I know this change in plans is unexpected,” Jasper continued. “But really, it’s a reflection of your outstanding progress that we feel confident in bringing you to Adoria early. In just a couple of months, you’ll be in a whole new world—adored and coveted like the jewels you are. I know my brother will be overcome when he sees this year’s class.”
Charles Thorn, the Glittering Court’s chief financial backer, alternated procurement with Jasper each year. He was in Adoria now and would sail back to Osfrid in the spring to recruit the next batch of girls while Jasper oversaw our progress in Adoria.
“I have no doubt you’ll all perform excellently in your exams,” Jasper continued. “I’d love to stay but must check in on the other manors as well. Cedric, however, will be coming soon to supervise during your exams and offer moral support.”
I cleared my throat and stepped forward. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
Jasper frowned. “Cedric offering moral support?”
“No. Making the crossing in late winter. Isn’t that still storm season?”
“I like to think of it more as early spring. And I’d hardly make the journey myself if I thought we’d be in danger. Surely, Adelaide, you haven’t gained some sort of nautical knowledge I don’t know about, have you? Surpassing mine and that of the ship’s captains who agreed to take us?”
It was a ridiculous question to answer, so I didn’t. Of course I didn’t have any seafaring expertise, but I had read the countless books on Adoria’s history that were part of the curriculum here. And there’d been plenty of tales about early settlers learning the hard way that winter crossings weren’t advised.
We were dismissed to our rooms, and Tamsin, as I expected, had a lot to say. She flounced down on her bed, uncaring of wrinkling her lawn dress.
“Can you believe this? They’ve moved up our exams! To next week.”
Mira also looked uneasy, and I remembered to appear appropriately concerned. We could’ve taken them today, and it would have made no difference to me.
“That’s not a lot of time to study,” Mira said.
“I know!” wailed Tamsin. “But on our way out, I heard Mistress Masterson say that at this point, we either know it or we don’t.”