Chapter 12

Docking in Adoria was a blur. I stood on the deck with the other girls, watching as the shore loomed closer and closer. Vaguely, I noted I’d never seen so many trees in my life. Though Cape Triumph was one of the oldest Osfridian cities in the New World, it was clear that the wilderness still wasn’t tamed. And the trees were huge, like sentinels guarding this strange shore. Mira stood beside me, our hands tightly clenched. Her face, as I’m sure mine did, wore a haunted look.

I should’ve felt excitement. My heart should’ve hammered with anticipation. After all, this was what I’d been waiting for—the culmination of all my planning, starting with the day I’d sent Ada away. But I could take no joy in this moment. There was a leadenness inside of me, a coldness I was certain would never go away.

“Raise our banner,” ordered Jasper.

His brisk command penetrated my haze, and I slowly turned my head. He’d been as stunned as the rest of us upon discovering the wreckage of the Gray Gull. Soon, he’d shifted to anger, berating the other ship’s captain and crew for the great material and human loss he’d just suffered. That had ended when our captain curtly remarked that if anyone was to blame, it was Jasper himself for insisting upon a late-winter crossing, putting us at risk for storms like the one from last night.

And so, Jasper had soon shifted back to his indifferent, businesslike mode, almost as though the storm had never happened. The crew raised the Glittering Court’s banner, positioning it just under the great Osfridian flag. Jasper surveyed it with satisfaction and then turned to Miss Bradley.

“Once that’s spotted, the word’ll spread like wildfire.” He jerked his head toward where the other girls and I huddled together. “We’ll reach shore in a few hours. Make sure they’re ready.”

Miss Bradley’s face was ashen in the gray morning light. “Ready, sir?”

“Half of our potential buyers will be down there, waiting to see what we’ve brought. I need this group dolled up to their finest, showing off everything they’ve learned last year. What happened to the Gray Gull changes nothing.”

“Yes. Of course, sir,” she replied, her face paling further. “Girls, you heard him. Let’s go belowdecks and get you changed. You’re a bedraggled lot.”

The others started to move, used to following instructions, but I stood rooted to where I was. I stared incredulously at Jasper, grasping not for courage but for the right words to express my outrage. “Changes nothing? How can you say that? It changes everything! A ship full of people just died. Half our girls. My best friend. Don’t you care? Do you really expect us to just prance off this ship and start flirting and smiling?”

Jasper regarded me unblinkingly. “I expect you to do what you came here to do—to make a match that’s beneficial to you and me. The Gray Gull is a great loss. I’m perfectly aware of that, and my business will take a huge hit because of it. The rest of you are still able to carry out our purpose here. You’ll put on the clothes I’ve bought you and walk off this ship looking as though you’re happy to be here.”

I took a step toward him, undaunted by neither his size nor status. “Well, I won’t, and I’m not! I get that I’m here to play a part—that I’m here to be a doll you can display for the highest bidders. But nothing in my contract says I have to shut down my feelings—that I can ignore that tragedy. Maybe you should have added heartlessness to our curriculum, since you seem to be such an expert.”

“Adelaide,” said Miss Bradley, aghast. “How dare you speak to Mister Thorn that way?”

“You are certainly entitled to your opinion,” Jasper told me coolly. “And Uros knows you’ve never hesitated to express it. But you signed a contract taking on this purpose—and this purpose is about to begin. If you’d rather opt out and return to a workhouse in Osfrid, that can be arranged.”

“Maybe I will.”

I turned my back on him and stormed away, ignoring Miss Bradley’s protests. I paid little heed to where I was going, pushing past startled crew and passengers. I reached one of the entrances to the ship’s interior and moved through the labyrinthine passages until I found myself back in the cargo room with the painting. I hadn’t realized this was where I was headed, but I wasn’t entirely surprised this was where my heart led. On this voyage, it was really the only space that had been my own.

I sank to the floor against the wall, burying my face in my hands as great sobs racked my body. Tears of anger mingled with sadness as I raged at the world. I hated the fickle winter weather that had brought us to this point. I hated Jasper for making us go on as though everything was normal. And I hated myself.

I hated myself most of all because if not for me, Tamsin would have never been on that ship.

I didn’t notice Cedric coming in until he was right beside me. “Adelaide.” When I didn’t respond or look up, he repeated: “Adelaide.”

My sobs diminished, but I was still sniffling as I finally lifted my head.

“The others are looking for you,” he said, his face grave. “Miss Bradley’s beside herself. She thinks some sailor carried you off.”

“Then tell her I’m fine. That I needed to be alone.”

“But you aren’t fine.”

That previous anger surged up in me, and I shot to my feet. “Why? Because I can’t go through with this charade? Because I want to mourn, like a feeling human being?”

He rose to stand before me. “Everyone wants to mourn. No one’s dismissing what happened.”

“Your father is,” I pointed out.

A pained expression passed over Cedric’s face. “He’s not . . . entirely unfeeling. But he’s dominated by his business sense. And his business sense is telling him we need to make the same grand entrance that the Glittering Court always makes. Once we reach the house, I heard him telling Miss Bradley, we’ll take a little more downtime than usual before the ball season kicks off.”

“And then we go on like nothing’s ever happened,” I stated. “Dancing. Smiling. Dressing up.”

“Adelaide, what do you expect? Yes, my father’s callous, but he’s right that we’re here for a reason. We can’t just call it off because of what happened to the Gray Gull.”

I slumped against the wall and closed my eyes. “Tamsin was on that ship.”

“I know.”

“Do you know why?” I asked, focusing back on him. “Because of me. Because of what I did. Because of that stunt I pulled with the exams.”

“Adelaide—”

“I don’t regret helping you,” I continued. “I owed you. But I should have told her. I should have told her about my past and trusted that, as my friend, she would keep my secrets. But I was too proud—too stubborn and caught up in my own importance. And now she’s dead. Because of me.”

He gently put his arms around me and tried to draw me to him. A fleeting memory of our moment with the honey cakes stirred within me, and I pushed back from him. I couldn’t deal with that, not right now.

“You can’t think like that,” he said. “It’s not your fault.”

“Really? Then whose fault is it? Whose fault is it she was on that ship?”

“Hers. She made that decision, and she was just as stubborn as you. We’re all in charge of our own lives—and we have to live with the consequences of the choices we make.”

Those tears threatened to return, and I blinked, refusing to let them have power over me. “Just like I have since I traded places with Ada. And now you’re saying I need to keep on with what I started. That I need to go catch my wealthy husband.”

“I’m saying . . .” He paused, brow momentarily furrowed. “I’m saying I don’t want you to go to a workhouse.”

“Me either,” I admitted. Here was that precipice, and the choice was solely on me: Grit my teeth and push on to Adoria, or skulk back to Osfrid. “Fine. I’ll go play the game and get ready.”

I started to turn toward the door, and he blocked my way. “Adelaide . . . I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know,” I said. “I am too. But it can’t change anything.”

Back in the Glittering Court’s wing, I found girls rushing between their own rooms and the common room, everyone too busy with hair and clothing to stop and speak to me. Few made eye contact, though I noted several giving me sidelong glances when they thought I didn’t see.

In my room, I found Mira buttoning up her overdress. It was made of a rich, scarlet satin embroidered with golden flowers. Silk petticoats in that same gold flashed underneath the dress. She looked exotic and mysterious. Seeing me, she instantly stopped buttoning and swept me into her arms. I leaned into her and had to fight the tears back again.

“You have no problem doing this?” I asked. With her independent streak, I’d almost expected her to rebel too.

“Of course I do,” she said matter-of-factly. As I studied her more closely and took in the emotion in her eyes and lines of her face, I realized that her calm tone masked a swelling of rage and sorrow. She was just better at keeping it locked down than I was. “But getting shipped back to Osfrid isn’t going to accomplish anything. I need to go forward, get to the next stage. And you do too.”

I pulled back and nodded. “I know. And I mean . . . I really do understand what I signed on for. I want to do it. But Tamsin . . .” I started to choke up, unable to go on. Mira squeezed my hand.

“I know,” she said. “I feel the same way. But it’s not your fault.”

Cedric had said the same thing. I couldn’t believe either of them.

But I followed Mira’s lead, trying to go forward and on to the next stage. I put on a gown of gray velvet, worn over a chemise and petticoats of purest white. Bows of glittering silver decorated the sleeves and bodice, and a shawl of white lace covered my shoulders. The shawl would do little against the damp, cold weather, but Jasper had been adamant we not go out covered in heavy cloaks.

We pulled our hair up into elaborate buns and chignons, and my wavy hair allowed fine tendrils to frame my face. On board the ship, fires were limited, so those who didn’t have naturally curly hair couldn’t heat up the curling wands we usually used. Miss Bradley assured us that even if we weren’t done up to our regular level of precise detail, we were still by far and away more than what usually came ashore in Denham Colony.

By the time we’d finished and come up to the deck, the Good Hope had nearly reached the docks. Sailors and the other passengers stopped and stared. My grief still weighed heavily on me, but I kept my expression cool as I assessed the approaching shore. Triumph Bay was a huge expanse of water, enclosed by land that “hooked” around it. Cape Triumph was located on the inside of the top of the hook. A great deal of our education had focused on the strategic location of this large port city, in an area protected by the worst of sea storms, creating safe waters for docking ships. The rest of Denham was accessible overland or by sailing along the coast. Opposite the city, on the far side of the bay, lay uncolonized lands whose rocky shore made docking more difficult.

I again studied the large and towering trees, many still standing despite years of colonists clearing them for lumber and farmland. This close, I could see some of the city’s buildings now. I couldn’t help but feel fascinated, despite my desire to remain indifferent. There was an entirely other feel, compared to Osfro. There, in Osfrid’s capital city, everything was old. Stone castles and churches that had been around for centuries marked the skyline, surrounded by well-established wooden houses and shops that were sometimes fortified with stone or brick. Of course new construction and renovation took place all the time, but Osfro’s overall feel was one of solidity and prestigious antiquity.

Cape Triumph was . . . new. Hardly any buildings had that venerable feel. Most were made of wood, with the planks’ light color showing their young age. Much was still under construction as Cape Triumph grew in size and importance. None of the buildings, even some of the older ones, were very tall. There were no castles here as a memory of ages past. The largest structure I could see was a fort far off on a hill, and it too was mostly made of fresh timbers. That lack of stone, that lack of wear . . . it made everything feel so young. With such newness and instability, it seemed as though this town was fighting fiercely for its survival.

A crowd had gathered at the wharves, by far and away made up of men. These docks too had that same young feel, though some aspects were the same as in Osfrid’s ports. Water lapped against the wooden posts, darkened by the gray sky overhead. The smell of fish and refuse washing up to shore filled the air.

The sailors tied up our ship, and much went into securing it before we were allowed to disembark. By then, the crowd had further increased. I could see men dressed in finery, who might very well be legitimate suitors, lined up with those in common clothes who’d simply come to see the show. All wore heavy cloaks and coats against the weather, and I regarded them with envy as a bitter wind cut through me.

A group of burly men with guns strode up to the dock, and Jasper walked down to meet them. I gathered by what little of the conversation I could hear that these were men hired by Jasper to see us around safely. While I was used to being escorted in Osfro, seeing that squad of rough-and-tumble men drove home what a different world we were in. I’d dreamed of the excitement and adventure of Adoria, but this was still a dangerous and untamed place.

When we were given permission to leave, Miss Bradley lined us up and put me at the head of the line. “You’re the diamond,” she explained. “You must be the lead.”

I stared, speechless. I didn’t fear the attention, exactly, but after everything I’d been through, this seemed like too much. Before I could protest, Mira asked, “Why are you putting me third?”

Miss Bradley fixed her with a look both hard and sad. “Because you are third now. Everyone else above you was on the Gray Gull.”

The world swayed around me, as thoughts of Tamsin and that ship bobbing like a toy filled my mind.

“Adelaide,” said Miss Bradley. “You need to go. Now.”

I shook my head, rooted to the spot, and then I felt Cedric’s steady presence beside me. “Follow me,” he said. “We’re just going straight to my father, that’s all. Keep your eyes ahead.”

He walked down the dock, and after a few deep breaths, I worked up the resolve to follow. My legs felt unsteady at first, accustomed to weeks in a rocking ship. Solid ground had become a foreign thing. I kept my eyes focused on Cedric’s back as I put one foot in front of the other and tried to block out the gawkers around me. Even though I knew there was a whole line of other girls following me, I felt alone and vulnerable. Jasper, on the far side of the crowd, might as well have been miles away. His men had cleared a space where the dock ended, glaring threateningly at anyone who dared take a step closer.

But that didn’t stop the whistles or catcalls. “Hey, girlie, hike up that skirt, and show us what a real jewel looks like!” and “Did they bring that Sirminican for the rest of us? When do I get my turn?” were only a few of the taunts. An angry flush swept over me, offering a small warmth against the cold. My rage was directed not just at the uncouth men but also at Jasper. Surely there were better ways of acquiring husbands for us than parading us around like the livestock Mira had remarked upon. All that training and culture, the alleged improvement of our minds, meant nothing when we were put on display in this wild land and judged by our looks alone.

And yet, was it any different than when I’d been shown off in the grand ballrooms of Osfro? Would this always be a woman’s lot?

I had half an urge to tear the expensive clothing and dishevel the carefully styled hair. Instead, I held my head high and followed the scarlet of Cedric’s coat. I wished I hadn’t packed his dagger away in my trunk—not because I intended to use it, but simply because feeling the cold blade against my skin seemed comforting. I’m better than these people, I told myself. Not because of my bloodline—but because of my character.

At last, after what probably only lasted a few minutes, I made it to Jasper. He stood with more of his men and some carriages, which were thankfully enclosed. Jasper nodded in approval. “Excellent, excellent,” he said, beckoning us to the coaches. “I can already see the potential buyers. I suppose having half the set might drive up the prices.”

I came to a halt, my jaw dropping. Mira pushed me on, into the coach. “How can you ignore that?” I exclaimed to her as we took our seats. Surely even her tight control had its limits.

“I’m not ignoring it,” she said, rubbing her ankle. Fury simmered in her eyes. “But I pick my battles. Nothing can change what happened. Nothing’s going to change his nature. But we can control our futures—that’s what we must focus on.”

I leaned back against the seat, wrapping my arms around myself. Now that the tension of that terrible procession was gone, the cold was hitting me again. I strived to be as calm as Mira, but it was hard. I wanted to go back outside and scream at Jasper, letting out all the tumultuous emotions trapped within me.

But it wouldn’t bring back Tamsin or the Gray Gull.

So I sat in seeming complacency, letting my feelings boil within me. Two other girls joined us, and the carriage started off. I’d noted the lack of cobblestone streets here, even in a busy part of the city. The storm we’d faced had brought rain here, and I could feel the carriage struggle through the irregular, muddy roads. Once, our driver had to stop and get one of our escorts to help release a stuck wheel.

By the time we reached our lodging, it was late afternoon. Our temporary home in Adoria was a house called Wisteria Hollow. It seemed small and plain after the venerable Blue Spring, but I was told that by Adorian standards, it was a grand residence. It boasted a rare three floors and had real glass windows, which were also uncommon in Adoria. The land had mostly been cleared around it, but a few apple trees grew prettily near the front door, as well as the wisteria that gave the place its name. The wisteria vines were brown, and the buds on the apple trees were barely discernible, unlike the fuller ones back in Osfrid. Adoria’s more severe climate brought a slightly later spring.

Warmth hit us inside the house, and we were finally offered blankets and cloaks to shake off the cold. A middle-aged woman with tightly bound dark hair and a pointed chin waited in the foyer, along with a well-dressed older man in spectacles. He embraced Jasper and Cedric, and I realized this must be Charles Thorn. He beamed at all of us until Jasper murmured something in his ear. Charles paled, and I realized he was learning about the Gray Gull.

“This is a tragedy beyond words,” he said.

Jasper nodded but then shared his earlier revelation. “Indeed. It will increase the demand for this group.”

Cedric shot his father a withering look and then turned to Charles. “Uncle, we told the girls they could have some time before beginning their social season.”

“Yes, yes, certainly,” said Charles, nodding his head. “My poor jewels—of course you must recover. But then you will have such fun once the season begins! Your promenade was only a taste of the delights to come.”

Mira and I exchanged glances at that. Charles had seemed totally sincere. He might be more kindhearted than his brother, but he was also obviously more naïve about the glamorous lives we lived. I could understand why Jasper was the dominant force in this business.

“This is Mistress Culpepper,” said Miss Bradley, nodding to the woman with the pointed chin. This felt vaguely like my arrival at Blue Spring.

Mistress Culpepper looked us over with a critical eye. “No doubt many of you think the New World is a looser place, where you will be allowed to run wild. But not while I am in charge of this house. You will follow all rules I set and adhere to their every detail. There will be no inappropriate or uncouth behavior under my roof.”

I stared. Had she never seen the procession by the docks? Did she really think we were the ones who might be uncouth?

The Thorns and a few of the hired men had lodging in a downstairs wing. Our rooms were on the upper floors. We would’ve normally been placed three or four to a room, but with our numbers reduced, we were being roomed in twos. I was grateful I’d have privacy with Mira, but it only served as another slap in the face about Tamsin’s fate.

“Change and rest,” Charles told us cheerily. “We’ll have supper soon and then help you prepare for the social season to come. Then, my jewels, the real fun will begin.”