Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(17)

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.

“Tamsin! You are out of line. You will take sapphire and be grateful that you’re among the top three. And you will watch your language.”

Even Tamsin realized she’d gone too far. “Yes, Mistress Masterson. I apologize. But I can retake the exams I did poorly on, right?”

“Yes, of course. Every girl can. Though, I’ll be honest, with a ninety-nine percent rating, there’s isn’t much else to achieve.”

Tamsin lifted her chin proudly. “Perfection.”

“Poor Tamsin,” I murmured. I didn’t like seeing my friend upset, but it was hard to feel too bad for her. No one could doubt her excellence, and although the top three girls attended more exclusive events, I knew Tamsin would have no difficulty meeting elite men. When Adelaide didn’t respond, I glanced over and saw her watching Mistress Masterson with a pensive expression.

“I’m going to ask if I can retake them too,” Adelaide finally said.

“Really?” Her face was too earnest for me to suspect her of joking, but I couldn’t imagine she’d want to go through all of that stress again. “You scored in the middle. That’s not bad.”

Adelaide simply shrugged and walked over to get Mistress Masterson’s attention. Someone tugged at my sleeve, and I found one of the dressmaker’s assistants standing by me. “You’re Mirabel, right?” She held up an armful of gold and yellow fabric in all sorts of textures and sheens. “I’m here to measure you. They assigned you topaz.”

The fabrics looked so unreal, I was afraid to touch them. I’d been in awe of the clothes we’d worn so far at Blue Spring, but this was a whole new level. A storybook level. The seamstress had just finished measuring my waist when Miss Garrison strolled up and made a click of dismay.

“This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”

Mistress Masterson, overhearing, joined us. “What’s the matter?”

Miss Garrison gestured to a swathe of goldenrod velvet I held. “She can’t wear these kinds of yellows with an olive complexion. Do you want her to look sick? Her skin is flawless. You need to show it off and change her stone. Give her a deeper color. Or even a brighter one.”

After more petitioning, the seamstress convinced Jasper and Mistress Masterson to change me to a garnet and clothe me in reds. Clara, formerly a garnet, hated yellow and regarded me with open contempt. I kept a dignified expression until I heard Jasper say, “Garnet is a little more of a common stone, so it might be fitting.”

The afternoon became a nonstop whirl. Along with our measurements, Miss Garrison assessed all sorts of details. She’d brought more fabric samples in each color palette than she needed and had to fine-tune which looked best in each girl’s set. She draped us in silks and velvets, pairing them with gems and jewelry that made my head swim. She even took notes on our faces and figures, determining what types of necklines and sleeves would be most flattering.

“Well, well,” she said, scrutinizing my figure, “aren’t you a standout.”