The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(47)

“Excellent point,” said Miss Bradley. “Just because we’re in rough conditions, it doesn’t mean we should be any less diligent about our manners and appearances. You are going to have to be in best form the instant we reach Adoria. As soon as word of our ship’s arrival spreads, there’ll be prospective suitors down at the docks to watch you come ashore and size up this year’s group.”

Those words took all of us aback for a moment. It wasn’t anything that had ever come up before. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, however. Everything we’d done had been scrutinized at Blue Spring Manor, with the understanding that we’d continue to be scrutinized in the New World. Why not from the first moment we stepped on shore?

“Sized up like livestock.” Mira pitched her voice low, but Miss Bradley heard her.

“There are young ladies begging in the streets of Osfrid who’d love to have the opportunity to be dressed up and ‘sized up,’” she said sharply. “I’m sure if you’d like to join them, arrangements can be made for you to return with the Thorns to Osfrid at the end of the summer.” While most of our household now accepted Mira, Miss Bradley obviously hadn’t come to terms with having a Sirminican in our cohort.

“Of course not, ma’am,” said Mira. “Forgive me.” Her tone was as apologetic as mine had been, and like me, she wasn’t sincere.



“I think if Mira had her way, she wouldn’t get married,” I told Cedric on our way to the cargo room one day. Long weeks had passed, and amazingly, this ocean journey was nearing its end. “Sometimes I just feel like she’s here because she has nothing better to do.”

He put his hand on my back to guide me around a pile of netting taking up part of the hall. Since this enterprise had begun, we’d grown remarkably casual around each other. “Compared to Sirminica, this is probably better,” he said.

“I suppose. But I wish she was more on board with what’s in store. Whatever the means, this journey ends in us marrying in Adoria. She’d be happier if she was excited about that, just like the rest of us.”

As we neared the cargo room, we saw the captain and one of his men hurrying through. We stepped to the side, letting them pass. As they did, I heard the sailor say, “It’s no problem, Cap’n. I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can,” came the gruff response. “But I don’t like the looks of it. It came up too fast. I’ll steer us the next hour and then hand off.”

Once they were clear of us, Cedric came to a halt. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

“Which part exactly?”

“The part about the captain taking the wheel.”

“So?”

Cedric’s face was alight with excitement. “So, it means he won’t be in his stateroom for a while. How would you like to add another crime to our growing list of offenses?”

I eyed him warily. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on.” He linked his arm through mine and turned us in a different direction from the cargo room. We soon entered the part of the ship used mostly by the crew. It made me uneasy, but Cedric walked with self-assurance. It seemed to make the crew members assume we were supposed to be there, and most of them were hustling about and preoccupied anyway.

We reached an ornate door that marked the captain’s chambers. After a furtive glance around, Cedric pushed it open and hurried me inside. “I’m surprised it’s unlocked,” I said.

“He usually only locks it when he sleeps. During the day, most crew wouldn’t have the nerve to come in.”

“And we do?” Even so, I couldn’t help being fascinated by what I saw. The captain’s room was a combination office and bedroom and was more than twice the size of my room at Blue Spring Manor. An ornate desk immediately drew the eye to the center of the room, as did the window behind it. I couldn’t even believe there was a window in here. Gray sky and a deeper gray sea showed through it. Brocade cloth hung around a bed on the room’s far side, and other rich furnishings warmed the space as well: candelabras, leather-bound books, and more. It was incredible to believe such a room existed when the rest of us were crammed into such humble quarters.

Another wave sent us rolling, and Cedric put a hand on the desk to steady himself. “I know you once said I could sell salvation to a priest . . . but there are some things even I can’t get a captain to barter for. So . . . we’ll just, ah, take them.”

“We steal now?” I asked.

“He won’t miss it. You’ll understand soon.” Cedric walked up to a wall covered in shelves, directing his gaze to a closed cupboard up by the ceiling. He glanced around, expression turning puzzled. “We want to get in there . . . but the ladder’s gone. There was a small one in here the last time Father and I ate with him.”

I walked over to the desk’s chair, but it was bolted down. Perhaps I should’ve viewed that as a sign we needed to get out, but I was too intrigued. I had to know what would actually reduce him to stealing. Seeing no other options, I returned to Cedric’s side.

“Okay, then. Lift me up.”

“Hold on, what?”

“I can climb on those bookshelves—use them for footholds. I’ll just need you to get me started. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”