The next day and for months and five long years after that, I dove headfirst into learning my duties as a Shadow. Life here wasn’t so different from the Reverie—but instead of learning magic, I was learning the life of a Couterie.
Couterie were a royal’s best friend. Someone who knew them through and through. No Couterie ever married their royal. Marriages were arranged for political gain and monetary power or to strengthen the lineage for the next Queendom. But there could be friendship or love between royals and Couterie.
A Shadow was part maid, part mimic. Each Shadow was trained to take a Couterie’s place for good if he or she could not fulfill his or her duties, but it had never happened in the history of the Couterie.
Lavendra was Prince Mather’s Couterie. She spent her time studying the Ana, a book that included everything there was to know about the royal palace and Prince Mather: his favorite foods, his battle strategy, what his every expression meant. One day soon she would move into the palace and be just steps away from Queen Magrit.
And as Lavendra’s Shadow, I would go with her. I couldn’t have planned this better if I had tried. Praise the Fates. Wherever they were.
Being Lavendra’s Shadow meant being with her for almost all her waking moments. Aside from her daily walk, which she insisted on taking by herself, I was with Lavendra from dusk till dawn.
“What are you doing, Farrow?” Lavendra said, suddenly appearing in the mirror behind me in my room, her arched brows furrowed.
My fingers tapped against my leg. It was a nervous habit I couldn’t shake. I touched my nose, flinching as I remembered what the doctor had done to it. I touched my ears too. The doctor had been as gentle as she could be when constructing my nose to match Lavendra’s. But human surgery was painful compared to the magical transformation that once upon a time Hecate could perform with a wave of her wand.
“I just wanted to try your dress on,” I blurted, running my hand down the pale-yellow gown. Its delicate boning was accentuated by hundreds of petals made out of the same delicate fabric.
Lavendra put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a playful squeeze.
I felt my muscles tense.
“Keep it. It looks better on you . . . ,” she began.
“No . . . that’s not . . .” When I heard the compliment, I reached for the buttons at the back of the dress. Lavendra’s hand stopped me. Compliments might as well be curses coming from Lavendra’s lips. I knew that there would be an insult coming. I just didn’t know how soon, which made it all the more torturous.
“I insist. You have the frame for it,” she said matter-of-factly and took a step back.
We both had light-brown skin and curly hair, but I was slighter and taller than she was, while Lavendra was more voluptuous. Shadows were supposed to look as much like their Couterie as cosmetically possible, and Lavendra’s recent blossoming had caused us to look less alike, which left Madame Linea less than pleased. Most of my wardrobe was hand-me-downs from Lavendra. But never anything as fine as this.
I had reminded her of what Linea saw as a flaw, and now she would have to remind me of my place.
“Stop slouching and pretend a ruler is tied to your back, like we practiced in class,” she said, modulating her voice into a perfect imitation of Madame Linea’s.
I obeyed and looked at myself in the mirror again.
“There, now you look more like a real Couterie instead of a Shadow . . . Wait—there’s just one more thing.”
In a couple of swift motions, she untied the corset and pulled the strings so tight that I could hear my ribs crack.
I smiled through the pain.
In the glass, we looked like twins, but we were worlds apart on the inside. Lavendra was only a year older than I was, but she seemed miles ahead of me in beauty and education, grace and selfishness, impatience and temper. And Lavendra never let me forget how far apart we were.
I reminded myself again that she was a means to an end, but there were still moments when she tested me and threatened my will. But I would not throw away all the years I’d worked for my chance at vengeance on her selfish self. I had already sacrificed too much to lose it all on her.
“Too bad you and that dress will never see the inside of the palace,” Lavendra said. “Now, bring me some honeybread. I’m famished.”
“You know that Madame Linea will kill me if I let you have another bite of it,” I began.
“Then you’re in a bind, because I’ll kill you if you don’t,” Lavendra said and plopped down on the chaise in the corner.
“How come I’ll never see the inside of the palace? I’ll never be a Couterie, but as your Shadow, it’s my duty to be at your side on your day of Becoming and beyond.”
“Tell that to the Queen of Paranoia. Only true Couterie are allowed inside the gates of the palace from now on. I think Magrit’s still afraid of the Entente. But imagine her thinking that anyone in the Couterie could be a w-i-t-c-h.”
“Imagine . . . ,” I repeated. My mind raced as I saw my window of opportunity for revenge closing after years of preparation and sacrifice. Years of honeybread and servitude. Years of pretending to be something I was not. Lavendra had not delivered an insult. Instead, she’d delivered a near death blow to my plot.
I took a breath, and when I did, Lavendra pulled the strings tighter as I tried and failed to turn the new information over in my mind and find a way around it or through it.
Magrit’s reclusiveness was not new. It had begun the second she took the throne and started erecting the Black Glass fortress around her. She had wiped out the Entente. She had begun to take down the other Queendoms. She was rarely seen, and Prince Mather was not seen at all. But she had not made any noises against the practices of the Couterie until this very day.
My mind hit a wall. I did not see another way into the palace. And without it, I did not see another way to get to the Queen.
The dress suddenly felt even tighter, even though Lavendra had stopped pulling on the strings. She didn’t have to continue, since Queen Magrit had already unknowingly cut off my oxygen. Vengeance was the only air I breathed.
Studying me, Lavendra began to loosen the corset.
“Farrow, you look like a ghost. I’m sorry, little Shadow, that you aren’t coming with me to the palace. Only Madame Linea can come with me. No strangers are allowed in the palace anymore, including servants. No exceptions.”
“The Queen is outlawing Shadows?”
“No, just banning them from living in the palace. Other queens and noblemen have no such qualms for their palaces and estates. But you, lucky you, will remain here unless some tragedy befalls me and only then can you swoop in and take my place.”
“No . . .”
“Yes . . . The Queen gets more paranoid by the day. Anyone not essential is no longer welcome in the palace. The real tragedy is my hair, Shadow. There is no way that Madame Linea can work the magic that you do,” Lavendra continued, oblivious.
She gave me a sharp look when I didn’t react to her compliment or thank her for releasing me from the corset.
“Why are you so sad, Shadow? I swear you look as if you lost your best friend. Not that you have any . . .” She laughed. Her gray eyes blazed with sudden interest.
We weren’t friends, but she knew me well enough to notice my disappointment. It was a Couterie’s job to know what people were thinking.
I didn’t answer her. I slammed out of the room and out of the Couterie without saying a word.
Lavendra leaned out the open window and called down, “What about my honeybread, Farrow? You can’t honestly expect me to get it myself.”
I ran away from Lavendra as fast as my feet could carry me. What now? I thought. There must be another way to get to the Queen.