Word reached me later that Cedric had won out against his father: I wouldn’t be meeting Warren until the ball. I suspected Jasper had caved in the hopes that, seeing me with other men, Warren might end up offering more. In the coming days, as the household was whipped into the frenzy Cedric had predicted, I found I had mixed feelings about what had happened with Warren. I respected what Cedric had fought for. On the other hand, I worried I might have cost Cedric the commission he needed. Really, what else was there to look for? Marrying Warren would put me in the closest position I could get to my former lifestyle here in the colonies. Hadisen was in no danger from the Icori. It was simply unsettled land needing a society to thrive in it and work its gold mines.
Somehow, amidst the pre-ball tumult, I found a chance to finish the painting when Mistress Culpepper was away. A small window in the cellar offered remarkably good light, and stepping back one day, I was astonished that I really had captured Thodoros’s style. It was my greatest work. An inexperienced buyer certainly wouldn’t know any different. An art expert probably wouldn’t.
The cellar door creaked open, and I turned with a start, relaxing when I saw Cedric come down the stairs. He stopped next to me and stared.
“That’s it,” he said.
“That’s it,” I confirmed.
“Amazing. I thought the poppies were incredible the day we met, but this . . . this is something else altogether.” He continued studying it, transfixed. “I’ll smuggle this out of here tonight, over to my agent. He’ll evaluate it and let me know what he thinks it’ll get, but something tells me it’ll be high. Enough to cover my Westhaven stake.”
“You know what else would’ve helped with your stake?” I asked archly. “A twenty percent commission on one thousand gold.”
Cedric turned from the painting and met my eyes. “Really? You came all this way and prepared for a season of galas only to skip them and marry the first man who wants you? Without even meeting him?”
“I would’ve met him eventually,” I argued. “And I never said that’s what I want. I’m just surprised you’ve taken such a stand. I thought securing an offer like that was top priority.”
“Securing your self-respect is top priority. I didn’t bring you into the Glittering Court so that you could be packed off to the first man who demands you.”
“Hey,” I retorted. “I brought myself into the Glittering Court.”
“You’re confirming my point. You’re too strong, too opinionated, to just let yourself go with the first offer. You deserve more. You deserve to have them lined up in front of you. Maybe you’ll want him after all, and that’s completely fine—even if it results in a lower fee. Or maybe you’ll like some other man. Maybe a few other men. Maybe there’ll be a bidding war. Maybe someone will beat his offer.”
“Maybe . . . but I find that last one unlikely. And I bet your father thinks it’s unlikely too.”
Cedric’s sighed. “He does. The substantial sum aside, he thought it best we get you signed and engaged before you open your mouth and ruin your chances—his words, not mine.”
“What?” I said, not even bothering to hide my indignation. “We’ll see about that. There are going to be plenty of men who like a woman who speaks her mind.”
“I agree. I certainly like your mouth.” Cedric suddenly seemed to reconsider his words. “Er, that’s not what I— Look. I just want you to have all your options. You deserve that.”
“And I want you to stay alive.”
“Me too.” He turned back to the painting and sighed. “And between this, your charms, and a little luck, we might just pull it all off.”
Chapter 14
The days to the opening ball somehow managed to fly by . . . and yet feel endlessly long.
I still grieved for Tamsin, but the pre-ball frenzy allowed me to keep those dark feelings at bay. This was what everything in the Glittering Court had been building up to. It wasn’t unheard-of for girls to make marriage deals on that first night. Others would go through the season assessing and accruing offers.
“I just want to get out of this house,” Mira said when the day finally came. “We’re here in the biggest, most cosmopolitan city of the New World but haven’t seen any of it!”
I thought of the ramshackle houses and muddy roads we’d passed on our first day. “I think ‘cosmopolitan’ might be an exaggeration.”
“We only saw the harbor. The city’s center is entirely different. Lively and busy and full of wonders.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Word of mouth.”
I paced in front of the large mirror in our bedroom, a luxury in Adoria. We’d been outfitted for hours and were now waiting for the call to get in the coaches. Mistress Culpepper had wanted no last-minute wardrobe surprises.
Mira and I stood in stark contrast to each other. I wore silk of brilliant white, just like a bride. Silver lace peeped around the low neckline and spilled from the elbow-length sleeves. Tiny crystals—echoing diamonds—decorated the bodice in a filigree pattern and then spilled across the overdress’s skirts like stars. Actual diamonds hung from my neck and ears, coming from a shared collection of jewelry used each year. Elaborate, often colored, wigs were fashionable in Adoria, but both Miss Bradley and Mistress Culpepper had been adamant I not wear any.
“Keeping with your theme would put you in white or gray,” Mistress Culpepper had explained. “We don’t want that. We need to show you as young and vibrant.”