The House of the Stone

There are two Duchesses and two Countesses. I remember that, but that’s about it.

The footmen surrounding us spring to life, pulling out chairs, and I sit down beside the Countess and stare at the most puzzling place setting I’ve ever seen. Who needs this many forks? One would be sufficient.

“I must admit, Pearl, I’m surprised we’re here at all,” the Countess says to Violet’s mistress. “How long has it been since you last bought a surrogate?”

Violet’s mistress shoots the Countess a look that would give that cranky-faced surrogate a run for her money. “Why, Ebony, don’t pretend as if you honestly don’t know the answer to that.”

“Not since your son was born, isn’t that right, Pearl?” the Electress chirrups. I don’t know how the Exetor can stand to listen to that voice all day. It would drive me mad. “Nineteen years is a long time to wait. What admirable patience you have!”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Violet’s mistress replies.

The footmen return to serve the first course and my stomach practically roars. It’s some sort of salad, with pears or something. I don’t care. I want to plant my face in it.

I’ve already stuffed two bites in my mouth when the Countess, very, very softly, clears her throat.

A warning.

Only one bite left.

I swallow hard and put my fork down. I’m afraid if I take another mouthful, I’ll gobble the whole thing up.

“Tell me, Alexandrite,” the Electress says to the royal who got shut out of the conversation earlier, “how did you enjoy the Auction? I know it was your first time.”

The second course is served, some slices of dark meat and fruit on frizzy greens.

I have an idea. Three bites, she said?

Very carefully, I divide the plate into three equal pieces. Then I load up my fork and shovel a giant helping into my mouth.

It’s duck, and figs, and a dressing that’s sweet and sour at the same time, and it’s amazing. My cheeks are puffed out and it’s hard to chew; there’s so much food. The Countess glances at my plate and her mouth turns down. Ha. She never specified how big my bites could be.

I swallow and lick my lips.

“Oh, it was marvelous,” the woman gushes. Clearly, she’s just happy to be included—she’s almost bouncing up and down on her chair. “The Duke of the Scales was so pleased that I was able to return home with such an impressive surrogate. He is certain our daughter will be perfect.”

I hazard another glance at Violet as I prepare my second bite. She’s studying the royals, looking back and forth between the Countess and the old woman in the red dress. Probably figuring out who is who. Unless she has already. I just can’t bring myself to care.

Something clicks behind Violet’s eyes, a look I’ve seen before when she would advance up an Augury level or master a difficult phrase on the cello. She’s figured it out. I bet she knows who everyone at this table is now.

If I could talk to her. Even for a second. If I could just hear her voice again.

“It seems as though everyone who can is having a daughter this year!” the Electress exclaims.

“No doubt the recent birth of your son has had great influence over the ladies of the Jewel,” Violet’s mistress says in a dry tone.

The Electress’s laugh is more annoying than her voice, if that’s possible. “Oh yes, I suppose that is true. And the Exetor wishes to get little Larimar betrothed as soon as possible.”

I stuff my second bite of duck into my mouth.

“He must, Your Grace,” Violet’s mistress says. “Once he announces your son as heir to the throne—as we all expect him to do at the Exetor’s Ball—the child must be betrothed within a year. It’s the law.”

“I’m well aware of the laws of this city,” the Electress snaps.