The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(32)

After the tests ended on the third and final day, we were all worn out, even those who hadn’t studied as much as Tamsin had. Everyone was weary and drawn, and I gratefully went to bed as soon as we were excused from dinner. Neither my roommates nor I said much of anything, choosing instead to drop into sleep with a sigh of relief.

The next morning was a different matter. Rested and free of exams, we were hit by the truth: We had done it. We’d completed what we set out to do when we’d joined the Glittering Court. We didn’t have our results yet, but the triumph of our accomplishment was heady. Mistress Masterson gave us the whole day off, with plans for our first big celebration that night in honor of Vaiel’s Day, greatest of the winter holidays. We’d all been assigned specific tasks to ready for the party, and none of us minded applying our hard-won abilities.

“I love Vaiel’s Day,” Tamsin said as we put on our day dresses. “The food. The smells. The decorations. Seems a shame we’re doing it all so last-minute.”

She was right. Usually, winter festivities started weeks ahead of the angel of wisdom’s holy day, allowing the cheerful atmosphere to last most of the month. “Well, if Jasper hadn’t moved up our timeline, our celebrations wouldn’t have gotten shoved aside for his profit,” I reminded her.

“At least we get some sort of celebration. You know those poor heretics of Uros—the barefoot priests? They don’t celebrate at all. Say it’s idolatry. But maybe nothing at all is better than what the Alanzans do. Who’d want to be out there worshipping trees in this weather?”

“Among the trees,” corrected Mira. “Vaiel’s Day is Midwinter for them—the longest night of the year. The Alanzans pray outside to Deanziel for insight and then will give thanks tomorrow to Alanziel for a return of the sun and the days getting longer.”

I regarded her with some surprise. It wasn’t often she pulled out a fact I didn’t know, but then, she’d also probably met real Alanzans. Like so many areas, her religious beliefs were something I never inquired about. She attended orthodox services to Uros with us, which was really all that mattered.

“Doesn’t matter what they worship. It’s all pagan superstition.” Satisfied with her appearance, Tamsin turned toward the door. “Well, time to get to work. I can’t wait until we have other people to do this for us.”

Most of the girls—like Tamsin—had been assigned to cooking the formidable feast that Mistress Masterson had planned. A few were in charge of games and music, and I was on decorating duty, along with Clara, of all people. She and I managed the task by splitting the rooms and staying out of each other’s way.

When it came time to decorate the drawing room, I was surprised to find Cedric and Mira talking inside. He’d made himself scarce during our exam days.

“You’re respectable today. Back to being a proper Adorian,” I said. He’d been dressed that way at our first meeting but often slipped into Osfridian styles for informal occasions. His overcoat, made of a heavy blue fabric edged in gold, hung nearly to his knees, as opposed to the shorter ones more common here. His boots were also higher than those of continental fashion trends. He didn’t just look proper. He looked dazzling—not that I’d ever tell him. “It’s like you’ve been to finishing school.”

“Well, some people might have trouble dressing themselves, but I never have,” he said. “We’ll be on our way in another month, so I figured I should look the part. My father and I need to be nearly—though not quite—as grand as the rest of you if we’re going to show we’re legitimate brokers. It’s all about image, or so my uncle says.”

In the months that had passed, I’d given little thought to Clara’s malicious accusations about Cedric and Mira. Now, having walked in on the two of them talking, my curiosity was piqued. “Are you distracting Mira from her tasks?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

Mira exchanged a knowing smile with him. “Cedric is explaining a game called hexbones to me. Mistress Masterson put me in charge of entertainment, but I don’t know many Osfridian games.”

“Hexbones?” I asked incredulously. “That’s just a dice game stableboys and messengers play.” I bit off any other words as Cedric shot me a sharp look.

“It’s a game played by many people,” he amended. “Most girls here grew up with it. The elite classes don’t play it, true, and it’s smart of you to be thinking ahead like that. But I’m sure for one night we can all relax a little.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. It’d been a while since I’d slipped like that. “But where are you going to get the dice? You think Mistress Masterson has a spare set?”

“Oh, I think Nancy Masterson might be more of a rebel than we think.” Although he still smiled, Cedric had an unusual air about him tonight. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but he seemed almost melancholy—certainly not a mood I generally associated with him.

“Did you call for me?”

Mistress Masterson stuck her head in the doorway, having just been passing by at that moment.

“Ah, no,” said Cedric. Mira and I tried not to laugh. “Adelaide was just discussing her plans for the room and was hoping you’d approve.”

Mistress Masterson looked at me expectantly, and I tried not to glare at Cedric for shifting the focus to me. Quickly, I mustered a plan. “Uh, candles in all the windows and those gilt-edged blue runners for the tables. And if I move that sofa over there, it’ll open up that corner for conversation. It’d be nice to get some of that spiced incense too.”