The House of the Stone

“An honor, Your Grace,” the Countess says. “And congratulations on securing the highest lot in the Auction.”


I want to snort out loud. Right. Like it was some big competition. Who would bid against the Electress anyway?

But then I see the tiny figure hovering behind the Electress’s blindingly pink dress, and it feels like something gets stuck in my throat.

I know that girl. I saw her in the Waiting Room. She was the one who looked so plain. She was Lot 200? She can’t be more than thirteen.

The old man who led us here enters silently and skirts the edge of the dining room before disappearing through another door.

“How long do you think she’ll keep us waiting?” the Electress asks.

“She was most likely waiting for your arrival, Your Grace,” the Countess says.

The old man comes back and creeps along the wall and out the double doors. A second later, footmen file in and stand like statues at various points around the room. No one besides the surrogates pays them any attention.

“Absolutely appalling behavior at the Auction,” the Electress says.

“She likely bribed the Auctioneer,” the Countess replies.

“Well, it was very unsportsmanlike. Perhaps the rules should be tightened a bit next year.”

“One step at a time, Your Grace.”

The other royal, the young one, hovers around the edge of this conversation, clearly hoping to be invited in. The Countess and the Electress either don’t notice or pretend not to.

The door on the other side of the room opens.

A woman walks in. She wears a beautiful blue silk dress and has skin and eyes and hair like mine. Her face is pretty, but scary pretty. Like an ice sculpture or a panther.

And then I could care less about her because Violet is walking into the room behind her.

Violet!

I want to shout her name, I want to run and throw my arms around her and feel that she’s safe. Is she being kept in a cage, too? Is this frighteningly beautiful royal hurting her behind these papered, candlelit walls?

Violet sees me and her whole face lights up. She looks stunning, as usual. Like she did at the Auction but fancier. The glittering purple of her gown makes her eyes glow.

I can feel how badly she wants what I want, to talk, to hug, to laugh at the incredible chance that we get to see each other so soon. In this moment, I regret what I thought earlier, wanting to have been Lot 1. Violet and I are smart and strong and because of that we were bought by Founding Houses. We are together, at least in some way. A team, just like we’ve always been.

It takes me a second to process what I’ve been missing.

Hope.

As long as I have that, I’ll be all right. Hope is as simple as seeing my best friend.

“Good evening, ladies,” Violet’s mistress calls to the room at large. She turns to the Electress. “Your Royal Grace. I am honored you chose to attend my small dinner. I know you had many invitations.”

She sinks into a low curtsy. I barely suppress my groan, and nearly fall over as we all have to curtsy again.

I know I look ridiculous because when I glance at Violet, she’s clearly laughing inside. I grin.

Remember that time Lily tried to teach me to curtsy? I want to say. Remember how you nearly had a fit you were laughing so hard?

“It is my pleasure,” the Electress says. Her voice is chirpy, like a sparrow. “I couldn’t pass up a dinner with the ladies of the four Founding Houses. Shall we sit?”

Violet’s ice-faced mistress looks supremely angry at being ordered around in her own house, but she recovers quickly.

“Of course,” she says. Her smile is creepy; it looks so sincere and yet it is clearly not.

Honestly, I’ve ignored everything I can about the royalty, except what I couldn’t tune out when Lily went on and on about them. I failed Royal Culture and Lifestyle five times at Southgate.