The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(22)

“Hmm?” The lady bit into the last strawberry.

“How are you going to handle the extra work that needs to be done for the next week while we host the Lange ladies?”

“What do you mean?” Marigold asked, walking into the room with her sister in tow.

“I have no magic.” Lie. “I can’t ready enough food and help host this many people in this house.” Truth. She wouldn’t have enough time. Worry gnawed at her belly.

“Wait…what?” Violet paused, melon dribbled down her pointed chin.

“Usually houses this large have multiple servants, many of whom have magic,” Ellie provided.

To her surprise, Lady Irene nodded. “I’d never contemplated that. We only have you to serve our needs. Your skills are paltry enough with just the three of us women, I shudder to think how much you’d fail us if we had six more for you to care for.”

Ellie balled her fist in her skirts.

“True.” Marigold set the empty fruit bowl on the tray and bit into a slice of buttered bread. “Plus, Dame Lange doesn’t approve of people who can’t do magic. It’s embarrassing to admit to having a dull servant.”

Lady Irene paled.

“Ellie’s not dull,” Violet said, coming to the rescue.

Ellie smiled at her favorite stepsister.

“We need to hire another girl, someone who can do magic.” Lady Irene sipped her tea and looked blankly around her polished bedroom. “Whom do I know that can lend out a servant?”

“Everyone’s so busy, Mama. I bet Ellie has a working-girl friend who can help us out,” Marigold said.

“Good idea.” Lady Irene turned to Ellie. “Clean up breakfast and sweep the entryway, then run into town and pick up one of your servant friends. We’ll pay her for her time.”

“Right away,” she bit out. With a quick curtsey, Ellie marched down the steps with the breakfast tray, set the dishes in the sink to soak, glanced at the already cleaned front entryway and hustled to the Citadel. Rachel would be glad to help if it meant making up for the pay she was losing at the palace.

Ellie burst into Meera’s Tea Emporium, where Rachel usually spent her free time.

“Whoa there, girlie, slow down.” Rufus caught her by the shoulder.

Ellie panted. She’d seen Dame Lange and her daughters load themselves into a magic-propelled carriage as she’d passed the castle. They could be at the manor estate in minutes. “I need Rachel, is she here?”

“In the back.” Rufus pointed.

“Is that Ellie I hear?” Rachel poked her head out from the velvet curtain with a charismatic smile.

“Come, I need you. Now.” Ellie grabbed her friend’s hand and ushered her out of the tea shop and through the crowded town square. She shuddered at the sight of the broken glass windows which lined the central square of the Citadel. No one had chased her down, yet.

“What’s this about, Ellie?” Rachel asked and tugged her hand.

She paused and looked back at her curious friend. “Sorry, Rach, I’m stressed. Dame Lange and her daughters are moving in to my home in a matter of minutes, and Lady Irene finally admitted I needed more help in the house.”

“My help?”

“Yes, I need your expertise and your magic.”

“Of course!” Rachel replied.

Ellie tugged her friend through the crowded streets and along the forest path. She pulled Rachel in through the backdoor of the kitchen.

“Ellie!” Violet slid into the room on her dainty leather slippers. “They’re here!” A red flush darkened her cheeks.

“Okay, okay.” Ellie panted, untying her cloak and tossing it on the hook.

“What do you need me to do?” Rachel tore off her own wool and traipsed to Violet’s side. “Calm, dear.”

“Mother is angry that it took you so long. She says there are leaves on the front steps.” Violet wrung her plum silk dress with her pink fingers.

Ellie bit the inside of her cheek. “Why don’t you go brush them away with your magic?”

“Oh, I suppose I could do that,” Violet said.

“Where’s my father?” Ellie asked, looking around.

“Mother insisted he stay in his green parlor while they’re here. They need not be made aware that he has no magic ability.” Violet raised her chin and straightened her shoulders, her tone changing to mimic her mother’s. “He’s not as elite as us.”

Ellie had to hold back a snort. The whole reason Lady Irene had married her father was because he could elevate her in society through his dead wife’s title.

“Okay, Violet, let’s get you in the receiving line with your mother.” Rachel ushered Violet from the room.

Ellie closed her eyes and counted backward from ten. She squared her jaw and headed to the lion’s den.

Lady Irene, Marigold, and Violet stood in a curved line at the front door in order of rank. Rachel stood in the background, almost invisible in her charcoal gray work dress. Ellie walked resolutely to her friend’s side.

The doorbell rang.

“Ellie, the door,” Lady Irene hissed.

Ellie hastened to the wide iron bolt and slid it back. The door clicked open. Lady Irene waved her arms and a golden flourish of sparkles shadowed the door as it swung wide. Ellie shifted back to her spot.