The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(99)

“Technically, you sent me to finishing school. So you’ve got no one to blame if you want me to behave differently.”

He drew me in for a kiss. “Now why would I ever want that?”

So there was no more shared sleep between us for the remainder of the trip. I missed it—achingly so—but I kept reminding myself this was all just another step along the path to our future. We would endure.

“You and your young man didn’t have a fight, did you?” Mistress Marshall asked me one day. We were both riding in the wagon, and I was wondering if I should be concerned that I no longer noticed the rattling.

“Why do you think that?”

She gave me a knowing look. “Just noticed you’ve been sleeping by our wagon again these last few days.”

I felt a flush sweep over me. “Mistress Marshall—it’s not—it’s not anything like that. Nothing happened. We were just sleeping together. I mean, like, actually sleeping. Then we decided it’d be best to stop after the watches increased.”

“Very sensible of you,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she really believed me.

“I mean it,” I insisted. “We’ve behaved—that is, well, exactly as we should. And we’ll keep doing that.”

Her smile was kind, despite a cracked tooth. “Perhaps. But you’re very young. And I know how hot young blood can run. While you’re under my roof, I’ll make sure you’re respectable and keeping with the virtues dictated by Uros. But when you’re not under my roof . . .”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Mistress Marshall, we intend to behave with the utmost decorum until we’re married.”

“Intentions and actions rarely line up. And in the event your intentions go awry, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She handed me a small burlap bag with a spicy smell. “These are cinnamon thorn leaves. You know what these are for?”

I gulped and, impossibly, felt my blush heat up even more. “Yes, ma’am. Our teachers at Blue Spring Manor—back in Osfrid—told us.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “Saves us both from an embarrassing conversation.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. As it was, I really didn’t think my mortification could get any worse at that moment. I tried to hand the bag back to her.

“Thank you, but I really don’t think I’ll need these.”

She refused the bag. “I’ve got plenty. They’ve kept me at six kids. If they keep you from having one before you’re ready, it’ll be well worth it.”

I might have tried handing it back to her again, but then I heard a shout from farther up in the caravan. “The eastern tributary! We’re at the eastern tributary!”

Cheers sounded, and I looked back to Mistress Marshall. “What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear, that we’re about to cross into Hadisen.”





Chapter 23


Aside from the tributary itself, there was no ostensible difference between Hadisen and the far reaches of Denham. We crossed the shallow water and continued on. Certainly, the land had shifted from what we’d left in Cape Triumph and its outskirts. Vegetation had thinned out, and the peaks of a low mountain range grew clearer in the distance. The famous gold mines were located in the foothills of those mountains. The lowlands contained greener farmlands, such as those the Marshalls claimed.

We’d been traveling for just over a week when we arrived in White Rock—Hadisen’s capital city, such as it was. Excitement and a renewed sense of energy filled our party as we crossed into the town’s limits. Had I seen it immediately after Cape Triumph, I would’ve been disappointed. But after days and days of trees, it felt as urban as Osfro. In reality, it was still a city in its early stages, with dusty tracks for roads and at least half the businesses being run out of tents. As in Cape Triumph, a mix of people walked the streets, but there were no elite well-to-do in this group. All belonged to the rough working class.

There was one fairly large house noticeable on a hill in the distance, almost as nice as Wisteria Hollow.

“That’s the governor’s house,” Warren said, riding up on his white horse. He dismounted effortlessly. “Where I’ll be staying.”

The words hung between us a moment, and I regarded the fine house with a moment of envy. “Tamsin will be pleased,” I said at last.

He gave me a small smile. “I hope so.”

In White Rock, a new sort of chaos ensued. This was the launching point for all the settlers. Some already had claims and plots assigned to them. They looked over maps and surveys, trying to determine where their lands were and how long it would take to get to them. Other settlers had come here blindly, carried along by a dream. They either solicited Warren’s agents for land to buy or lease, or else they sought work among those more established. Residents of White Rock, seeing new blood, were eager to come and sell their wares.

“I’m going out to my claim tonight,” Cedric told me later. He’d been consulting a map with several other men. “Ours are near each other, and we’ll go together.”

“I wish I could go too,” I said.

“I saw where the Marshall place is. It’s only about two hours’ ride by horse.”

“A regular horse or Lizzie?” I asked.