Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(17)

Nomi’s eyes widened. There was so much about this world she didn’t know.

Rosario noticed Nomi’s look and nudged the girl on her other side, smirking, her good humor apparently restored. “Did we all look that stunned when we were chosen?”

Embarrassed, Nomi dropped her gaze to her plate. She stabbed at a piece of melon.

“Don’t worry, flower,” Rosario said, her honeyed voice teasing. “You’ve got time to get used to it here. It’s mostly dress fittings and dance lessons until the Heir’s birthday. That’s when the fun really begins. I wonder which of you he’ll choose to celebrate with?”

“Maybe all three?” someone else suggested, laughing.

Cassia sipped her espresso, a little smirk on her face. Maris looked stony-eyed out to sea.

“Why does the fun begin on his birthday?” Nomi asked.

Cassia arched a brow. “Don’t you know? That’s when our positions become official. There’s a ceremony and everything. The Heir won’t consummate”—she said the word with a purr—“his union with us until then. The girl he chooses to entertain him that night is the one to have first chance at becoming Head Grace. Just look at Ines. She was one of the Superior’s very first Graces.”

Nomi’s face flamed. She knew if Serina were in her place, she’d be competing with Cassia to have the Heir’s first male child and become his Head Grace. But the thought made Nomi’s stomach turn. Still, she saw value in becoming Head Grace. When the Superior died, Ines would have the comfort of knowing her son would decide her fate.

Rosario leaned forward. “Ines isn’t just the Heir’s mother; she’s the second-born son’s as well. She’s a legend.”

Cassia’s eyes lost focus as she, presumably, imagined a similar life for herself.

“Do Graces raise their own children?” Nomi asked. She couldn’t remember anything from Serina’s lessons about it; then again, she’d never paid close attention. She’d always been elbow-deep in laundry water or scalding herself on the stove.

Rosario looked at her like she’d sprouted another head. “Raise children? Do you see any children here?”

Cassia rolled her eyes. “That’s what nursemaids are for.”

Nomi had never felt a desire to have children, and yet a strange surge of grief still gripped her at the thought that if she did, they would be taken from her. Did Ines ever look at her sons across a crowded ballroom and yearn for those lost moments? Those lost years?

“I heard Malachi will be hosting a masquerade ball for his birthday,” Rosario shared.

The girl across from her grinned eagerly. “Really? A masquerade? Those are always delicious.”

The Graces reminisced about other masquerade balls, other Grace ceremonies, but Nomi stared at her plate of fruit and pastries, lost in thought. Serina filled her mind, every worry and fear leading back to her. Was she okay? Was she hurting? Did she hate Nomi for stealing the book?

Nomi swallowed around the lump in her throat. Of course she did. All of this was Nomi’s fault.

Ines stepped out onto the balcony. “Good morning, Graces,” she said. Her gold-flecked dress sparkled in the late-morning sunlight. “The Superior has requested the presence of Eva, Aster, and Rosario at luncheon. There’s a concert this evening for a delegation from Azura. His Eminence requests only his most senior Graces to attend. Ysabel, you are to play the harp.” Down the table, a woman in her thirties with coppery-red hair nodded. Ines turned to Nomi and the other new Graces. “The Heir has requested an audience with each of you today,” she said. “While you’re waiting your turn, I’d like you to go through your gowns with your handmaidens and set aside the ones that need altering.” She eyed each girl in turn, ending with Nomi. “You’re first.”

Nomi gulped down the piece of bread caught in her throat. “It will be my pleasure,” she managed.

She didn’t miss Cassia’s look of envy as she stood up and followed Ines inside.

Ines took Nomi down a long tile corridor to an ornate wooden door carved with crashing waves and leaping fish. “Don’t ask about your sister,” she said before opening the door. “It will not please him.”

Nomi nodded, but felt a flare of defiance. “So what should I do?”

Ines looked at her as if the answer were obvious. “You do whatever he says.”

She opened the door and nudged Nomi into Malachi’s rooms.

The large sitting area flowed to a wide balcony. Through an open doorway to her right, she caught sight of a massive bed. Heat crept up her cheeks.

“Good afternoon, Nomi,” the Heir said, rising from one of two leather chairs arranged in the center of the room. His tall muscled frame filled the space. He wasn’t close enough to touch her, and still she felt his presence pushing toward her, stealing all the air from the room.

“Good afternoon, Your Eminence,” she echoed, with a wobbly curtsy. Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress too tightly. Just seeing him brought her fury to the surface. His ancestors were the reason women weren’t allowed to read to begin with. His father was the reason Serina wasn’t here. He was the reason Nomi was.

Malachi said nothing, and Nomi stared at the ankles of his linen pants with a fixed attention so he wouldn’t see the hatred in her eyes. How could she hope to please this man, even to find out what had happened to Serina? She could barely look at him.