My stomach drops, but not nearly as far as CJ’s jaw.
“That’s a mistake,” CJ says, a little too loudly. The bureaucrats ignore him, but Conrad’s icy blue eyes narrow on his son. Headmistress Moyle looks from CJ to me, and her shrewd gaze hovers over the tear in my dress. Something new flickers behind her expressionless mask . . . satisfaction?
“It’s no mistake at all!” says one of the bureaucrats; I don’t catch which one.
“Congratulations, Arden!” the other says, thrusting glasses of champagne at me and Neve. Neve stares at it like it’s poison, her smile stiff.
“Arden? I didn’t know you applied!” Carla says, her voice as big and surprised as her round golden eyes. I try to shake my head, to say something, get Neve’s attention, but she won’t look at me.
“It’s quite impressive, really,” the first official says. “She’s one of only two women to ever get through without an interview.”
“You don’t say?” Neve says, voice tight as her grip on the champagne flute.
“That’s amazing!” Carla says, practically jumping off the couch. She raises her glass in the air. “Can we cheers now?”
“Yes, girl, yes. Of course!” the second official says, handing CJ the final glass. He’s unnervingly quiet, a statue made of igneous and brimstone, something hot and deadly bubbling just beneath the surface. That’s when it hits me: His plan backfired. I’m getting out of here. I’m getting away from CJ.
Everyone raises their glasses—except Neve. She sits frozen on the settee.
“Might I give the toast?” Conrad says, his deep baritone slicing through the room.
“Yes, by all means! You are her benefactor,” the second official, the shorter one, says. Conrad wears a thin smile as he fixes his cold blue eyes on me.
“Here’s to Arden, our very own candidate. Arden, may you reach great heights, but always remember where you’re from. May you perform your duties with grace, gratitude, and the respect you learned here, at the Laarsworth estate. To your future, and a past that is never far behind.” He raises his glass higher and nods, thrumming with the same silent fury as his son. His toast might seem pretty on the surface, but I know it for what it is: a threat.
“Here, here!” Carla shouts, thrusting her glass high into the air before downing the whole thing in one sip. CJ’s eyes narrow as he watches her drink. I know that look, that predatory gleam of interest. For a moment, I imagine rejecting the invitation, imagine sending Neve in my place. Carla would move into my dorm, and I would protect her from CJ. Until, of course, they kicked me out.
“Well then,” says the first official, setting down his glass; it’s barely missing a sip. “We’ll give you a moment to say your goodbyes. When you’re ready, Arden, we’ll be waiting out front with the car.” He turns, and the shorter man joins him, speaking with Conrad in hushed tones as they move toward the door. Carla sets down her now drained glass and hops over to me, squeezing my neck so hard, I’m not sure I’ll make it out of here if she doesn’t let go.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” she says, stepping back to hold me at arm’s length. She shakes her head, her earnest brown eyes glistening. “I mean, I can’t believe you’re leaving! I was ready to say goodbye to Neve!” Neve looks up at her name, staring at Carla with blank eyes. Carla hugs me again, and then bounces back, wiping tears from her brown cheeks.
“Arden,” Headmistress Moyle says, stepping close. She wraps a long arm around my shoulders. “I can’t say I’m not surprised! But I know you’ll have an enlightening experience. I tell all the girls who go the same thing: try something new, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” She winks and squeezes me into a half hug before she leaves, muttering something about being too old for rich meals.
All that’s left now is Neve. She stands, setting aside her untouched glass, and wraps stiff, mechanical arms around me, pulling me in tight.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“You watched me dress, encouraged me, made me look the fool. You have ruined my life,” she hisses as she digs her perfectly rounded fingernails into the back of my head. “I will never forgive you.” She pulls away and gently runs a finger down my cheek, the edge of her nail drawing a line down to my chin. She backs away, and I feel the weight of her promise settle in my chest. It feels a lot like my heart breaking.
Conrad maneuvers the bureaucrats toward the foyer as CJ threads my arm through his, pulling me away from my friends. They watch as he escorts me to the door.
“You know why you were picked, don’t you?” he asks, voice low.
“I don’t care,” I say, impressed by my sudden courage to speak up, to fight back.
“Oh, how quickly she bites the hand that feeds,” he says.
“That’s not what it does,” I snap back. He raises his free hand and I flinch, but no blow comes. He grins as I open my eyes and leans in, running his fingers over the torn fabric beneath my breast.
“Make no mistake, this isn’t about your skill, or your intelligence. All they’ve seen is a photo I took outside the shed. They know exactly what you are.” Hot anger fills my chest, but with multiple eyes and ears on us, there’s nothing I can do to fight him that won’t put everything at risk.
“Thank God Carla’s still here,” he says. He lets go of my arm and flashes a million-watt smile, walking backward. Then he turns around, strides over to the girls, and folds Carla into a hug. It takes her half a second to hug him back, her surprised eyes round and joyous. The edges of the room blacken around me, and I take a stuttering step toward them.
“Arden.” Conrad’s voice is impatient behind me, and I stop, leaving my innocent friend in the lion’s den. I look to my “benefactor,” and he motions for me to walk with him. Hesitant, I follow him onto the veranda.
“Since you are not the candidate I selected, we haven’t had the chance to discuss what’s expected.”
“Oh?”
He stops beside the balustrade and turns, sneering down his nose at me, the displeasure he’d kept concealed before our visitors etched now into every line of his face. “I trust you understand that as my beneficiary for the past five years, you are indebted to me.”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“I also want to be clear that while I am aware of the dynamics of your relationship with my son, I expect you to be less defiant with the heir apparent.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, my voice small and shaking in a way I haven’t heard since I was a child.
“Cut the shit, Arden. I know your relationship with CJ has not always been the smoothest. Nevertheless, your primary duty is to this family, and as such, I expect you to understand that family matters stay family matters.” He pauses, watching me from under heavy silver brows, and I nod. It’s what he wants, and I don’t think he’ll let me off this porch until I agree to everything he says.
“That said, if the heir apparent makes similar advances, you would be wise to do what he wants. A smart woman uses the skills in her possession to her advantage, and you have very little use otherwise. Except, perhaps, as a plaything for CJ.” My lungs seize, and I know my eyes widen at the horror, the outrage, that lances through me, but his face is cold, expressionless.
“You need to win, Arden. In order for life here to work, I need support in the capital. Make it to the end, get me the favors I need, or I’ll let CJ keep you in his damn shed. Are we clear?” I look down at the car waiting for me, and the second man, the shorter official, waves, giving me an oblivious smile.
“Do we understand each other?” Conrad asks again.
“Yes,” I say. He smiles, charm switched on once more, and folds me into a cool hug. Ever the showman, he leans forward and kisses the top of my head. Chills cascade down my body as the truth of my new reality hits me: I’m trading one pretty prison for another. I’m not escaping, not free. Never free from his influence.
Beyond him, two house boys carry Neve’s damask-covered trunk—filled with Tatiana’s clothes and makeup—down the steps to where the bureaucrats wait for me beside a long, shiny car. I look back at the house. Standing in the foyer, Neve’s eyes are glassy, her jaw like granite as she watches her trousseau vanish into the vehicle she won’t be getting into. Carla wipes more tears off her round cheeks and gives a little shudder as she cries. CJ moves between them, and my hackles go up as he slips an arm around Carla. He pulls her against him, nothing more than a comforting hug to the average, unknowing observer. But he looks up at me, eyes hooded, and blows an air kiss, lowering his hand down Carla’s back.
For a moment, I think about marching down the steps and telling the officials everything. That it’s supposed to be Neve, that CJ is horrible, that Carla will be in danger if I leave. But then Conrad grabs my chin, turning my head until our eyes lock.
“Remember, Arden—win. You can’t imagine how difficult I can make things if you fail.” He lets go, and his eyes dance down my body in a slow, slithering slide. “And before you let anyone see you, change into something that shows off your tits.”
He smiles down at me like a doting father, then propels me down the stairs into my unexpected fate.