The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(31)

I rolled my eyes. “Honestly, was that the best you could dredge up? I think I would have been better off alone and pathetic.”

“Not true. You’re too likeable for anyone to believe you don’t have at least one friend who’d show up to support you. And I didn’t have much notice to find someone. I only heard about the schedule change at the last minute.”

“Why did it change?”

“Along with you girls, Father transports all sorts of goods for trade to the colonies. If he can get there ahead of the other spring ships, he can turn a better profit. When he finally got a couple of ships willing to make the early crossing, he jumped on it,” Cedric explained. “And so, I had to find an actress for you.”

“Not just any actress. A great star of some of the biggest theatrical productions in Osfro. Or so I hear.”

Cedric raised an eyebrow at that. “Trust me, I did not find her starring in a big theatrical production. But it was better that people noticed your crazy relative than wondered how you had no one in the world.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Grudgingly, I added, “Thank you.”

“I’m always at your service. But you’d better go before you’re late. I hope you do well.”

“I won’t. I’ll do just good enough.”

And I held to that as the exams began. All the information we’d been drilled in over the last eight months was suddenly condensed into three days. Some of the exams were written. Some, like dance, had to be conducted in a more hands-on way. It was exhausting, even for me, particularly as I had to pick and choose which areas to succeed in and which to do poorly in. It was definitely a balancing act, but I was certain I’d place comfortably in the middle. I’d make good on my promise to Cedric to attract no unnecessary attention.

“Adelaide, dear,” Miss Hayworth said, halfway into my dance exam. “What are you doing?”

“The waltz?” I offered.

She shook her head, making a few notes in her papers. “I don’t understand. You executed this perfectly last week and completely botched the new rigaudon. Today, it’s reversed.”

I tried to keep my face blank. “Nerves will do that to you, ma’am.”

“Continue,” she said, waving us on and wearing the exasperated look I often brought out in her.

Nearby, I saw Clara smirk at my critique. In her time here, she’d come to excel in this area, so much so that Miss Hayworth had suggested she lead the opening dances in Adoria. She needed these scores to offset the abysmal ones she had in academic areas, and really, I didn’t care what she thought anyway.

Tamsin’s thoughts, however, were something I deeply cared about. Farther across the room, I saw her watching me with a puzzled look. She soon slipped back into the rhythm of the dance, but I could’ve kicked myself for my error. Alternately excelling and failing was easy enough to do around here. Keeping track of which areas I was allegedly deficient in was more difficult. This wasn’t the first time I’d mixed something up—and this wasn’t the first time Tamsin had noticed.

Written tests followed dance, something that made me much more comfortable. No one but the instructors knew if I mixed something up. But another slip followed on the second day, during our music exam. While we weren’t expected to be experts on any one instrument, we were supposed to have a passing knowledge of each one. Rather than quiz us on all of them for our final, our instructor simply selected three and based our score on that. I hadn’t anticipated that. The first two, the flute and harp, were ones I’d always purposely performed poorly on. I assumed the last instrument she’d produce would be a harpsichord or lute—which I always showed my true proficiency on. Instead, she chose the violin. It wasn’t played much by women in Adoria, so I’d always regarded it as a safe choice to botch here. Now, I realized, to pull a decent music score, I needed to excel in something. And so, to the amazement of her and my peers, I produced a perfectly executed melody on the violin.

“Well, look at that,” Mistress Bosworth said, beaming. “You’ve been practicing.”

“You have not been practicing,” whispered Tamsin later, once the exam was over and we were on break to go to dinner. “Where did you learn to do that?”

I shrugged. “From her.”

“The last time she brought out the violin, you couldn’t even hold the bow straight!”

“Tamsin, I don’t know. Sometimes I get anxious and mess things up. What’s it matter? You’ve been doing great.”

As hoped, that distracted her. “I have,” she said proudly. “I answered all of those religious and political essays for Mister Bricker perfectly. And I know I got almost everything on the Adorian culture and society test right too. That’s one of the most important, you know.”

I smiled, genuinely happy for her. “You’ll get your diamond rank in no time.”

“If I can beat out the girls in the other manors. I know I’m the best here.” She said it as a fact, not even bragging. “But who knows about the other three houses?”

I wasn’t worried for her, particularly as the rest of the exam days went by. That zeal and intense resolve I’d seen since the first day were fully turned on, and she threw herself into each exam. When she returned to our room each night, she’d fight her exhaustion and study more.