The Belles (The Belles #1)(12)
Du Barry gives her a round of applause, and we all join in.
“See you first thing.” The minister saunters out, her mink trailing behind her.
“Young ladies, wonderful display of talent tonight.” Du Barry rests her eyes on each of us in turn. “Even your big sisters were mightily impressed. They look forward to helping you with your transitions once you learn your placements tomorrow. Several remarked how a few of you may not even need a full month with them to acclimate to court and teahouse life.”
I flush with anticipation, excitement, and a little fear.
“Tonight was one of the strongest debuts I think we’ve had since my maman was still alive.” She kisses two fingers and places them over her heart. We mimic her to show respect for the dead. She removes prayer beads from her dress pocket and wraps the string around her hands. “Your arcana levels will be checked and balanced. Then you will be dressed for bed.” Du Barry places a warm hand on each of our cheeks. “You must be sure to get plenty of rest. Tonight is your first time experiencing this much stimulation. You must rid yourselves of it, and reestablish your balance. Always remember that emotions are tethered to the blood, and the blood is where your gifts are. Any excess passion can cause contamination and too much pressure. It can damage the arcana. I cannot stress this enough.”
During the weeks leading up to our birthday and the Beauté Carnaval, I had heard this over and over again, as if a needle were stuck on a phonograph record. From our mothers, our nurses, and especially from Du Barry, as if I’d forgotten what I had been taught about the arcana my whole life.
Beauty is in the blood.
My sisters and I chanted the mantra even as we learned our letters and numbers.
She tugs a cord on the wall, then turns to me. “Camellia and Edelweiss, you both will be woken early.” Her tone is ominous. “We need to speak.”
7
My cheeks flame as my sisters gawk in my direction. A nervous sweat slicks my makeup. Elisabeth grins at me.
“Why?” I ask.
Du Barry bristles.
“Yes, I want to know as well.” Edel steps beside me.
“Camellia and Edelweiss, when I ask you for something, no explanation need be given. Whether at home or here. All of you should remember that.” She sweeps her skirts behind her and storms out of the room.
“Good night, girls.” Elisabeth blows us a kiss, then follows her mother.
“It’ll be fine,” Amber whispers, and takes my hand.
Edel starts to laugh.
“It isn’t funny, Edel,” Amber snaps.
Servants pour in. They herd us to the bathing onsen, where they feed us honey-soaked peaches to help reset our arcana levels, undo our Belle-buns, remove our expensive gowns, wash out our hair, and bathe us until we’re soft as tea cakes.
Nurses wait for us outside the baths. Their white uniform dresses make stiff noises. Their shiny Palace Infirmary emblems sparkle around their necks. There are a few pushcarts spilling over with towers of chocolate squares, pots of spiced tea, orange slices, sugar-coated blueberries, and skewers of smoked salmon and beef sprinkled with garlic and ginger. Other nurses hold arcana meters.
I sink into the chaise lounge, wondering what Du Barry wants to talk to me about. My mind races with all the things she might say. I hope she tells me how much she loved my exhibition. I hope she tells me that the crowd clapped the loudest for me. I hope she tells me my use of the second arcana was unique.
But a voice inside me whispers: She didn’t like it.
My sisters file into the room one by one and find seats.
The servants leave.
“Look at these.” Padma drops the Orléansian Times in my lap. The headlines scatter, then settle again. “I can’t read enough of them.”
LADY FRANCESCA CARNIGAN, OF HOUSE HELIE,
RUMORED TO HAVE A BEAUTY ADDICTION
QUEEN MIGHT LIFT SAILING RESTRICTIONS,
OPENING KINGDOM TO TRADE
SOME HAIR TEXTURES DON’T CATCH
THE BEAUTY-LANTERN LIGHT
SERVANT OF HOUSE CANNEN JAILED FOR ILLEGAL BEAUTY
WORK AND IMPERSONATION OF DUCHESS CANNEN
COUNTESS MICHELLE GIRARD OF HOUSE EUGENE TO WED
ROYAL MINISTER OF FINANCE LéA BOYER IN GLASS ISLES
Edel takes the paper from my hands as she crashes into the chaise lounge beside mine. “We’re in trouble, little fox.” She looks like a spirit; her snowy nightdress is the same shade as her skin and hair.
“Edel, you’re always in trouble,” Valerie says, as she sticks her nose into a cart of sweets and her wet hair gets frosting in it.
“Well, Camille, you too—maybe just a little bit. You don’t always follow instructions,” Padma adds, then smiles.
“I wanted them to remember me,” I say. “And my girl kept squirming.”
“Oh, so that explains why you made her your twin?” Valerie teases.
I laugh. “Not quite.”
“Your girl turned out so lovely, Camille,” Hana says through a yawn. Her straight black hair spreads around her body like tentacles. Her eyes fight to stay open, and when closed, fold so smoothly and neatly in the corners, like creases in paper.
“I didn’t plan on breaking the rules,” I say.
“Of course you did, Camille.” Edel’s mouth curves in the corner. “Du Barry looked absolutely pinched. Cheeks red as cherries. I was so proud. I should’ve refused to do beauty work at all. Let them put me on that platform, raise it all the way to the top, then do nothing. Can you imagine? Then Du Barry’s face would’ve been the ugliest in the entire kingdom. I really considered it, but I figured she would bleed me if I did it. She gives me the meanest sangsues. I swear she does.”