House of Salt and Sorrows(17)

“And me!” Verity chimed in, eager to be included.

“Of course,” Morella said with a smile. “We’ll have to look through it.”

Mercy and Honor sprinted in, out of breath and sticky from their treats.

“Rosalie said the fairy shoes are here?” Mercy asked, immediately spotting the boxes.

We’d all taken to calling them fairy shoes. Though I knew they were only little leather slippers—beautifully dyed and styled leather slippers—we’d imbued them with a touch of magic. These shoes would be the beginning of our new start. Once we wore them, we couldn’t help but be different from who we were before.

Morella swatted at Mercy’s hands. “Wait for your father.”

“And me,” Camille said, bursting into the room with Papa.

We all piled around the sofa, giddy with anticipation.

“How do we know whom each box is for?” he asked.

“We each chose a different color,” Honor explained.

“Except us,” Rosalie said, speaking for the triplets. “Ours are a matching silver.”

“Well, shall we see if these fairy shoes were worth such a fuss?” Papa flipped the latch, and we all gasped as the box opened.

They were Camille’s, a sparkling rose gold. Metallic flecks were embossed into the pink leather, creating a shimmering luster. I’d never seen anything so exquisitely sophisticated.

Next were the triplets’ shoes. The leather glinted like Mama’s precious wedding silver. The ribbons were different shades of purple, matching the girls’ dresses. Ligeia’s were a soft lilac, Rosalie’s violet, and Lenore’s such a deep eggplant they looked nearly black.

Honor’s slippers were a dark navy twinkling with silver beads like the night sky.

Mercy had picked a frosty pink to match her favorite flower, sterling roses. She’d even asked the dressmakers to trim her gown with silk versions of them.

Morella had chosen a pair of gold slippers, glinting brighter than the sun. She beamed up at Papa as he presented them to her with a look of such tender admiration, I couldn’t help but smile.

Verity crept up to Papa as he brought out the smallest box. She leaned on his leg, pressing in to see her shoes the moment the box opened. As the lid came off, she clapped her hands with delight.

“What fine fairy shoes these are,” Papa praised, plucking out the purple slippers. Flecks of gold scattered across them like gilt trim.

“Oh, Verity! They’re beautiful!” Camille said. “They might be the prettiest of them all.”

Verity pulled off her boots and slipped them on, springing into a happy pirouette as we all applauded our tiny prima ballerina.

“These must be Annaleigh’s,” Lenore said, pulling out the last box.

Nestled on a bed of navy velvet were my shoes. I’d selected a jade leather, and the cobbler had added glittering seafoam and silver bits, concentrated heavily at the toes and fading as they swept across the slipper. They would match my gown perfectly.

Papa smiled as he handed them over to me. “I don’t think these are fairy shoes at all. They look fit for a sea princess.”

Verity frowned. “Mermaids can’t wear shoes, Papa.”

“Silly me!” he said, tapping her nose. “Are we all satisfied?”

Everyone chimed in with our happiness, and Morella grasped his hand. “With shoes like these, no one will be able to tear their eyes away from our girls. They’ll be dancing out of the house before we know it, Ortun.”

Camille stiffened. “Out of the house? What do you mean?”

Morella blinked once. “Only that you’ll be off and married, of course. Running your own households, just like me.”

Papa frowned.

“This is my household.” A bite crept into Camille’s voice.

“Until you’re married,” Morella filled in. Met with Camille’s stony face, her smile began to wane. “Isn’t that right?” Morella looked over to Papa, seeking clarification.

“As the Thaumas heir, Camille will stay at Highmoor, even once she’s married. I know it’s a nasty bit of business to think over, my love, but when I die, she inherits the estate.”

Morella tugged on one of her pearl drop earrings. “Only until…” She trailed off, holding her stomach as her face grew flushed. “Surely you girls ought to be somewhere else?”

The Graces all stood to leave, but Camille grabbed Mercy’s arm, stopping her. “This concerns them too. We should all stay to hear it.”

Papa looked uncomfortable. He turned toward Morella, trying to create a more intimate conversation. “You thought any sons we may have together would inherit Highmoor?”

Morella nodded. “That’s common practice.”

“It works that way on the mainland,” he allowed. “But on the islands, estates are passed to the eldest child, regardless of sex. Many strong women have ruled over the Salann Islands. My grandmother inherited Highmoor when her father passed away. She doubled the size of the Vasa shipyard and tripled the profits.”

Morella’s lips pressed together into an unhappy line. Her eyes raced over us, counting. “So our son would be ninth in line, even though he’s a boy? You never mentioned anything about this.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t realize I needed to.”