The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(11)

One of the sentries snorted. “You’re no true follower of Uros. See how strong your faith is after a few nights in prison.” He dragged the shrieking priest away while the other sentry turned to me. I quickly looked down, feigning shyness, so he wouldn’t see my face.

“You all right, miss? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Thank you. Sir.”

He shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know what the world’s coming to when heretics walk the street. You’d best get back to your master’s house before it gets darker.”

I bobbed my head and quickly walked away. The religious atmosphere was dangerous in Osfrid these days. These radical wandering priests might claim to worship the one god Uros, but their practices challenged the established church almost as much as the Alanzans and their fallen angels. The orthodox priests and officials were no longer as tolerant as they’d once been, and it took very little to make you suspect.

It was a relief when I reached the Glittering Court’s carriage. It was two blocks away in the opposite direction, exactly as Cedric had told Ada it would be.

It was all black, sleek and shiny, with the Glittering Court’s seal on the outside: a circle of golden chain with little jewels interspersed between the links. The carriage was of modest size, not nearly as grand as the one my grandmother or I rode in, but I supposed it would be extraordinary to a girl who knew no different. I walked around to the front where a driver sat waiting over four white horses. I called a greeting to him, loud enough to make my voice heard over the noise from the street but hopefully not enough to attract the attention of the great house on the other side of it.

“Hey,” I called. “You’re here to pick me up. My name is Adelaide.”

I’d decided on that when I concocted this plan. I’d made Ada disappear and received her promise that she wouldn’t mention any of this, but as far as the Glittering Court officials knew, they had the right girl. Calling myself Ada didn’t seem right. What I was doing already felt like theft, but I certainly couldn’t go by my own name anymore. So, I’d use the beautiful name Ada had been given at birth, the one she had trouble spelling. I felt like I deserved it, just as I deserved this opportunity that terrified her.

The driver gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well, hop in. We’re meeting Master Jasper and Master Cedric along the way.”

Master Cedric.

As much as I’d enjoyed looking at him, seeing him now could most certainly create a problem in this brilliant plan I’d created . . . but I’d have to deal with that later. For now, I had other issues.

“Hop in?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “Aren’t you going to come down and open the door for me?”

The man gave an amused snort. “Listen to you, acting like a lady already. You aren’t a ‘jewel’ yet, missy. Now get in—we’ve got two more stops to make, and one’s by the Sirminican district. I don’t want to be out there any later than I have to. Those Sirminicans will rob you blind if you’re not watching ’em.”

I fumbled with the coach’s handle and finally figured out how to open it. Ungracefully, I half-stepped, half-tumbled into the carriage’s interior, without the benefit of a stool or pillow offered by a servant. Inside, the carriage was dim, lit only by what light made its way in through the smoky windows. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that the cushioned seat I sat on was made of a burgundy velvet of middling quality.

Without bothering to make sure I was comfortable, the driver set the horses on their way, causing me to jerk forward. I gripped the walls for support, staring out the darkened glass as the lights of my family’s home moved farther and farther away. I held my breath as I watched the retreating house, expecting a group of servants to come tearing out at any moment, swarming the carriage until it stopped and released me. No one came, though. The house went about its nighttime duties, soon vanishing into the night. Or maybe I was the one vanishing. Maybe I would be forgotten quickly, my face and voice gone from the minds of those I’d once known. The notion made me sadder than I’d expected, and I had to shift my focus back to the plan.

Presuming no one thought to check on my headache tonight, I’d have until morning before my absence was discovered, at which point I’d hopefully be long gone into the country. And that was assuming, of course, that Ada didn’t get cold feet and come back—if she’d even left the city. If things were on track, she’d have already bought passage with some group of travelers heading north.

There were a lot of “if”s in this plan, a lot of things that could go wrong.

The rocking carriage made its way through the city, into parts I’d never seen before. I was terribly curious about it all, but as the evening deepened, I could see less and less by the glow of the gas lamps used to illuminate the streets. The carriage finally came to a halt, and I heard a muffled conversation. Moments later, the door opened, and a girl my age stood framed in the doorway, her fiery red hair shining even in the twilight. She shot me a calculating look and then, like me, climbed in without benefit of a stool. Only she managed it better. She shut the door, and the carriage continued on its jerky ride.

We sat there, sizing each other up in silence as we moved down the cobblestone streets. Light from outside lamps came and went, creating a flickering show of shadows inside. When that intermittent illumination came, I could see that her dress was even plainer than mine, threadbare in some places. At last, she spoke, her voice tinged slightly with a working-class accent: “How’d you get your hair like that? All those curls lying just so?”