The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(42)

I threw up my hands. “Tamsin, enough! I’ve gone along with your theatrics for nine months, but this is going too far. Exactly what in your life has been destroyed? You can converse about current politics, eat a seven-course meal, and play the piano! Maybe you’ll miss out on a few parties, but you’re still going to marry some rich, prestigious man in the New World. You’ve come a long way from being a laundress’s daughter, and if you were my friend, you’d be happy at how far I’ve come too.”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I can’t tell how far you’ve come. I’ve lived with you all these months but don’t know anything about you. The only thing I’m sure of is that you’ve been lying to us all, and this ‘triumph’ of yours just proves it!”

There was a jumble of emotions in my chest. Anger. Sadness. Frustration. I hated the lies and subterfuge. I wanted to tell Tamsin and Mira about everything. My title. Lionel. Ada. Cedric. Westhaven. Those secrets burned within me, wanting—no, needing—to get out. But I couldn’t let them. The consequences were too great, and so I had to bury them back within me and let that terrible animosity hang in the air.

“Tamsin,” said Mira, speaking up at last. “That’s not fair. What’s wrong with her wanting to do well? It’s what we all want. And she told you, nerves always got the best of her—”

“That’s the biggest lie of all. She’s been fearless from the first day, facing down Clara and traipsing out in the night for holly. The jokes, the carefree air . . . it’s all been a cover.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “Nerves aren’t your problem. I refuse to be sucked into your web of lies, and I will never have anything to do with you again.”

That drew even diplomatic Mira to her feet. “Isn’t that a little extreme? You’re being irrational.”

“And you’re acting like a child,” I added. The stress of today’s events was catching up with me. Between the shocking announcement, Cedric, and now this, I was having a hard time remaining calm.

Tamsin turned on Mira, ignoring me. “I’m refusing to let her manipulate me like she has everyone else. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do the same.”

“Tamsin,” pleaded Mira. “Please stop and talk this out.”

“No.” Tamsin moved toward the door and paused to fix me with a stony glare. “I’m never speaking to you again.”

My control snapped. “Should be easy enough—seeing as we’ll be hanging out in different social circles in Adoria.”

She took it like a physical blow but held good to her threat. She didn’t say a word to me, and the only response I got was the slamming of the door as my first real friend stormed away from me.





Chapter 10


I honestly didn’t believe her. After months of wild emotions and dramatics, I figured Tamsin would calm down and make amends. But she never did.

The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Fittings continued at an accelerated pace as the seamstresses worked around the clock to finish up everyone’s wardrobes. It was a daunting task for our house alone, and I knew it had to be just as busy in the three other manors. Tamsin’s green fabric arrived, and I caught sight of her at one of her fittings. She looked stunning in it, and I told her so, but she acted as though I hadn’t spoken.

My clothes were equally beautiful. I’d loved the purple attire, but this new set transcended even that. Some of the dresses, particularly the daytime ones, were of purest white, made of delicate fabrics that rivaled those I’d worn in my former life. The evening and ball gowns were radiant confections of velvet and satin, done in gleaming white and glittering silver, embellished with jewels and metallic lace.

The Adorian styles took a little getting used to. Although the long skirts were full and layered with petticoats like ours, there was no extra bustle to pad the hips. I didn’t mind that so much; it made them infinitely more maneuverable. Adorian sleeves were close fitting to the elbow, with a spill of lace or other embellishment at the cuffs, rather than a chemise revealed through slashing up the arms. It was the bodices, however, that gave me the most pause. They were significantly lower cut than Osfridian fashion, with a scoop neckline that could reveal a lot with a particularly ambitious corset.

“It’s how they do it there,” Miss Garrison said when I’d remarked upon it. “It’s a New World, so they claim—a bolder world. They’re trying not to be held back by our ‘stuffy’ ways here.” Her tone suggested she didn’t entirely approve, even if creating such things was part of her job. “Well, at least it’s done where you’re going in Cape Triumph. Up in the northern colonies? Where those crazy Heirs of Uros live? I hear that’s a whole other story.”

I nodded politely, more concerned with my cleavage than a conservative group of Uros devotees. Honestly, with the threat hanging over Cedric for his Alanzan faith, I kind of felt that my life would be a lot simpler avoiding religion of any kind.

If not for the fight with Tamsin, all this preparation would’ve been an enjoyable time. “She’ll come around,” Mira told me one day. “I know she will.” Mira had still been playing diplomat, talking insistently with both of us in the hopes of mending the rift.

“Will she?” I asked. “Has she given any sign she will?”