The Glittering Court
Page 6

After much deliberation, she turned to me. “What do you think I should do, my lady?”
The question caught me unprepared, and suddenly, all I could think of was my grandmother’s words: You’ll have people making choices for you your entire life. Get used to it.
I felt myself softening. “You have to make your own choices—especially since you’ll be on your own once you leave my service.” I looked over at Cedric, and for the first time, I saw uneasiness on those striking features. He was afraid Ada was going to opt out. Did the Glittering Court have quotas to meet? Was he on the hook to come back with someone?
“Mister Thorn has made it all sound very lovely,” she replied. “But I kind of feel like some trinket being bought and sold.”
“Women always feel that way,” I said.
But in the end, Ada accepted Cedric’s offer anyway because, as she saw it, she had nowhere else to go. Over her shoulder I scanned the contract, which was mostly a more formal explanation of what Cedric had told us. When she signed, I did a double take.
“That’s your full name?” I asked. “Adelaide? Why don’t you go by that?”
She shrugged. “Too many letters. It took me years to learn to spell it.”
Cedric seemed to struggle to keep a straight face. I wondered if he was starting to question this choice and if Ada could really be made into part of his “new nobility.”
Contract in hand, he stood up and bowed to me. To her, he said, “I have other contracts to deliver this afternoon and some errands to run at the university. You can take the day to pack your things, and our carriage will come to retrieve you this evening and take you to your manor. My father and I will join you along the way.”
“Where is this manor?” I asked.
“I’m not sure which one she’ll be assigned to,” he admitted. “I’ll know by tonight. My uncle maintains four for the Glittering Court, with ten girls each. One is in Medfordshire. Two are in Donley, another in Fairhope.”
They were true country houses then, I noted, placing each location on a mental map. They were each at least half a day from where we were in Osfro.
He delivered a few more last-minute instructions before making motions to leave. I offered to walk him out, which was a bit unorthodox, and took him back toward the garden I’d been in earlier. “University. So you’re a student then, Mister Thorn.”
“Yes. You don’t sound surprised by that.”
“It’s in your manner. And your coat. Only a student would set his own fashion standards.”
He laughed. “I didn’t. It’s actually an Adorian fashion. I’ve got to look the part when I go with the girls.”
“You get to go too?” Somehow, that made this entire thing even more agonizing. “You’ve been there before?”
“Not in years, but—”
He drew up short as we rounded a corner and heard more sniffling. Old Doris the cook was trudging toward the kitchen, trying not to cry as she walked.
“Don’t take this the wrong way . . .” Cedric began. “But there are a lot of tears in your household.”
I shot him a wry look. “Much is changing. Doris won’t be going with us either. She’s blind in one eye, and my cousin doesn’t want her.”
He turned to study me, and I averted my gaze, not wanting him to see how much this decision pained me. In her condition, Doris wasn’t going to have an easy time finding work. It was another argument Grandmama had won. I was losing my edge.
“Is she good?” Cedric asked.
“Very.”
“Excuse me,” he called out to her.
Doris turned in surprise. “M’lord?” Neither of us bothered to correct her error.
“Is it true that your services are for hire? I can understand if someone else has already hired you on.”
She blinked, her one good eye focusing on him. “No, m’lord.”
“There’s an opening over in one of the university’s kitchens. Four silvers a month and room and board. If you’re interested, it’s yours. Although if the thought of cooking for so many is daunting—”
“M’lord,” she interrupted, pulling herself up to her full but short height. “I have overseen seven-course dinners hosting a hundred nobles. I can handle swaggering boys.”
Cedric’s expression remained dignified. “Glad to hear it. Go to the university’s north office tomorrow and tell them your name. They’ll give you more information.”
Old Doris’s mouth dropped, and she looked to me for confirmation. I nodded encouragingly.
“Yes, yes, m’lord! I’ll go right after breakfast’s served. Thank you—thank you so much.”
“Well, that’s lucky,” I told him, once we were alone again. I certainly wouldn’t say so, but I thought it was incredibly kind of him to offer such a thing, let alone notice her. Most didn’t. “Lucky that there was an open position.”
“There isn’t, actually,” he said. “But I’ll stop by and talk to the office today. By the time I’m done, they’ll have an opening.”
“Mister Thorn, something tells me you could sell salvation to a priest.”
He smiled at the old adage. “What makes you think I haven’t?”
We reached the garden and were nearing the exit when he halted again. An expression of disbelief crossed his face, and I turned toward what had caught his eye. My poppies painting.
“That’s . . . Peter Cosingford’s Poppies. I saw it in the National Gallery. Except . . . ?” He trailed off, face full of confusion as he took in the canvas and the pigments beside it.
“It’s a copy. My attempt at a copy. I have others. It’s just something I do for fun.”
“You make copies of great works for fun?” Belatedly, he added, “My lady?”
“No, Mister Thorn. That’s what you do.”
The smile on his face was genuine, and I found I liked it better than the show ones. “Well, I’m pretty sure I could never copy you.”
We’d reached the front gate, and his words made me come to a halt. It was less about their meaning than the way he’d said them. The tone. The warmth. I tried to think of a witty retort, but my normally quick mind had frozen up.
“And if you won’t take offense at me speaking openly . . .” he added quickly.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“It’s just . . . well, I’m a little disappointed I probably won’t ever get a chance to see you again.” Perhaps realizing that was too open, he gave a hasty bow. “Farewell, and best of luck to you, my lady.”
One of the guards outside the gate unlocked it for him, and I watched him walk out the gate, admiring the way the velvet coat hugged his body.
“But you will be seeing me again,” I murmured. “Just wait.”
Chapter 3
The plan had been forming in the back of my mind ever since Ada had tearfully signed her contract. I had a chance to outsmart the bad things looming over me. And, as my father had advised, I needed to act quickly. As more and more details became clearer, my excitement grew, and it was all I could do not to shout it to the heavens.