Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(32)

“That’s not what I’m— Look, I know it’s weird. I just want to know how you do it. How you get them to open up to you.”

She returned to her dress. “I don’t know how I do it. I don’t even really think I’m flirting that much. But I mean, common ground is a place to start. Find a connection over something you both relate to. Be interested. Make them feel special.”

“That’s it? Just those things?”

“It’s more in how you do them. You can’t overthink it.” She straightened up and smoothed her skirts. “Oh, and confidence. I mean, sometimes you need to be demure. But if you’re ever in some situation that needs a crazy solution, just be confident. If you act like you’re completely convinced about something, people will go along with it.”

I nodded, running through a mental list of passengers and what interests we might share. “Wow, you look great,” I said, suddenly noticing what she had on. It was one of her nicer Adorian dresses, certainly not a ball gown, but a few steps up from the day frocks we wore on the ship.

“We’ve got that dinner tonight—the one with other passengers?”

I groaned. Miss Bradley had decided we needed to stay up to date on our lessons, so she’d arranged to have some of “the more respectable passengers” dine with us in our common room. She’d instructed us to put on our most formal manners—and elegant clothes. The bulk of our wardrobe, especially the truly grand pieces, was in storage. I sifted through what I had in my trunk and produced a burgundy, embossed velvet dress meant to be worn over a frilly white chemise. The velvet pattern hid the wrinkles acquired from being kept folded for so long.

“Watch that shoulder,” Adelaide teased as I searched for hairpins. “Miss Bradley’ll have a fit over such indecency.”

I glanced up from the hairpins and realized what she meant. The dress’s wide, scooped neckline—cut low, in the Adorian style—had slipped off my left shoulder. Hardly indecent, but Miss Bradley would chastise me for sloppiness. I tugged it back up. “I don’t remember this being so loose.”

“It’s the food around here. We’re all losing weight. When we get there, you’ll have to make up for it in Adorian pastries or get your wardrobe altered.”

“Ugh, don’t mention pastries. I wonder if Miss Bradley’s going to dress up tonight’s food too.”

Adelaide grinned. “Sure. Maybe a nice butter and wine sauce to go over the hardtack?”




We arrived in the common room early and found a few of the guests already seated, including my acquaintance Mister Kent. I was pondering whether to use tonight as my big flirting opportunity when a fretful Miss Bradley said, “Mira? Will you go round up the others? They should be here by now.” We had a half hour until dinner, but she was treating this like a royal banquet.

I knocked on a few cabin doors and passed on her message. Sylvia and Rosamunde were still unaccounted for, which meant they’d probably lost track of time above deck. I headed for the end of our corridor, and as I turned toward the steps that would lead up, I nearly ran into Grant coming from his section of the ship. I froze a moment, surprised to see him over here at all and dressed up. He had on the fine suit he’d worn at our departure, with the linen shirt and suede vest, but it had been further embellished with a dinner coat and black cravat.

“You’re one of the better passengers?” I blurted out.

“What?” He looked equally rattled.

“Miss Bradley said she was only inviting the, uh, elite passengers tonight. I didn’t expect you to see you.”

His face settled into its characteristic wryness as he leaned against the ladder. “She must have been desperate to fill those seats with whatever vagabonds she could find.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and immediately felt the dress slip again. Grant’s posture didn’t change, but his eyes tracked the fabric’s movement as it bared the top of my shoulder. It didn’t surprise me that he noticed it; he noticed everything. But it seemed to me he studied it more intently than he needed to. And he certainly didn’t need to examine the rest of the dress’s lacy neckline as it ran along my cleavage—but he did anyway. I left the rebellious sleeve where it was and took a step closer.

Even a brilliant man will get stupid with a pretty girl.

“They are going to think you’re a vagabond if you don’t neaten yourself up,” I scolded. He practically jumped when I lifted his collar and began retying the cravat. Aside from our fight in his cabin, we’d never touched before. “Wasn’t the whole point of you going to Osfro to get some polish? You should know how to do this.”

“I do know how to do it. I just don’t like taking the time with the details.”

“You took the time with your Flatlander disguise.”

“That’s different. That was a riskier job. But a comfortable shopkeeper? A few wrinkles aren’t going to raise anyone’s suspicions.”

I finished the cravat and tucked it down under the vest, making sure my fingers also grazed the skin on his neck. “A few?” I let my hands run slowly down his chest as I smoothed out the soft fabric. “You’d better brush up on your counting skills before we arrive. Seems like a necessary ability for a spy who’s supposed to be collecting information.”