The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(33)

Mistress Masterson nodded in approval. “Sounds like you’ve got it well in hand, dear.”

“And holly,” I suddenly said, looking at the mantel. “We should’ve gotten holly to make boughs. We always used to do that for winter parties in the capital.”

“That would’ve been nice,” Mistress Masterson agreed. “I didn’t even think about it with everything going on. Too late to get any now—the sun’s almost down.” She nodded toward a darkened window and, seeing my disappointed face, added, “Don’t worry. Clara had the foresight to go get fresh ivy and make some garlands. That’s almost as good.”

That only made things worse, knowing that Clara had one-upped me. Mistress Masterson left, and Mira gazed at the window for long moments before turning to Cedric. “Weren’t there some things you needed to take care of?”

“Yes . . . I should do that soon.”

When he made no motions to leave, Mira added, “You’ll have plenty of time before the party. Everyone’s very busy right now.”

“Yes . . . yes.” His smile returned, but I could see a tightness behind it, reinforcing that odd sense I’d gotten from him. “I’ll take care of that now.”

He started to walk out of the room and then paused by me. “Here.” I smiled as he pressed a set of dice into my hand.

“Of course. Of course you have a set.”

“It’s my spare, actually. We play all the time at school.”

“Are you any good?” I asked. “Never mind. I already know you are. It’s a game that involves reading people and manipulating them.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You’d be a natural.”

Despite that jest, he still seemed tense. “He’s acting very strangely,” I told Mira when he was gone.

“Is he? I don’t know him well enough to know.”

“Don’t you?” I asked pointedly.

Her face was completely innocent as she shook her head. “I’m sure everything’s fine. Do you want me to help you move the sofa before I leave?”

She and I lugged it across the room, both of us surprised at its weight. “I’m starting to agree with Tamsin,” I said. “It’ll be nice to have flocks of servants to do this for us.”

Mira grinned back. “We’ll see. I don’t know if I did well enough to get a husband with one servant, let alone flocks.”

“Not like Tamsin,” I said.

“Not like Tamsin.” She laughed. Her face grew serious. “But I hope I did well enough to get . . . I don’t know. A choice. Or at least someone I can respect.”

“Still want to buy out your contract?”

She helped straighten the sofa. “I think Tamsin was right about that. I’d need some sort of job on the side—and I’m guessing that’s not allowed.”

“Um, yeah. Jasper would probably frown on that kind of thing. But it won’t matter. I know you’ll have your pick of amazing men. And if you’re worried about your scores, you can always retake the tests.”

“Right. They were so fun the last time.” She stepped back and joined me to survey our work with the sofa. “Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Not unless you can make some holly materialize,” I said wistfully. “It just doesn’t feel like winter without it.”

“I wouldn’t know, since we don’t have it in Sirminica, but I think this room will be fine.”

After she left, her remark made me feel worse—as though I owed her holly for a true Osfridian experience. When I finished with the drawing room, Mistress Masterson released me from my duties early to go get ready for the party. Neither Tamsin nor Mira had returned yet. I put on my best dress, a full-skirted gown of sky-blue brocade scattered with pink flowers. A pink chemise was worn under it, peeping through the slashed sleeves and around the boned bodice. As I laced it up, I thought ahead to what it would be like when we switched to Adorian fashions. The skirts were slimmer and more maneuverable, the bodices less structured.

I wandered downstairs, looking for ways to help. No one needed me, and Cedric was gone. I’d kind of wanted to brag to him about having laced up the dress in under a minute. So, I busied myself by going over my decorative handiwork but found no flaws in it—except the absence of holly. A check of the clock told me I had an hour until dinner, and I made an impulsive decision.

I traded my delicate party shoes for sturdy boots and donned a wool cloak. Even so, I wasn’t prepared for the blast of cold that hit me when I went outside through one of the back doors. I questioned my decision for a moment, watching as my breath made frosty clouds, and then plunged forward.

I knew what Mistress Masterson would have said about me traipsing alone through the woods at this time of day. My grandmother would have said the same thing. But I’d been all over Blue Spring’s property in my time here, taking walks and picnics with the other girls. No dangerous animals roamed the grounds, and we were too far out of the way to have any vagabonds coming by. The only person I was likely to see was the kindly old groundskeeper.

It was the shortest day of the year, and sunset had come early. The light was almost gone from the western horizon, and the rest of the sky already glittered with stars. A rising moon and my own memory of the way to the holly trees made navigation easy. The cold was my biggest obstacle, and I regretted not bringing gloves. A thin coat of snow crunched softly as I passed over it.