Mother's carriage is gone. A knot of tension in my stomach eases. I hope she won't be displeased with my choice. Or the Envadi. Her words come back to me about him trapping me. He did let me go rather easily and gave me money. It's probably to catch me making worse choices than just asking. My excitement drains.
I should send Katherine a note telling her not to make the dress. But she's doing me a favor, already working hard to get it ready in time. And it's what I want. What should I do? I don't know. I trudge inside and down the passage. An electric light is on in the book room, glowing through the slit in the doorway. I stop and peer inside.
My hand covers my mouth to keep from making a sound. The Envadi is conversing with another giant. It must be someone else from his country. There are never many Envadi in Chardonia. What's he doing here? Even after leaning closer, I can't hear what they are saying. A spell perhaps? Except there's no telling salmon-colored light like he used before. Just the faint glow lightening the area directly around them.
“I can't,” Chancellor Zade says, his voice finally growing loud enough for me to hear. Not a spell than, just caution.
“You must at least keep up appearances. What would your Father say?”
“You know he doesn't want me here, let alone encouraging me.”
“As a parent, that may be so, but as a—”
“Wait.” The Chancellor stalks to the door. “Who's there?”
My heart pounds and my mouth goes dry. I've pushed enough boundaries today without making it worse. I nudge the door open. Both men watch me. I lower my head wondering what hex he'll use. Or is he going to come close enough to strike me? I move deeper into the hall.
“Glad you're back,” the Chancellor says. “I wanted to make sure you returned safely before going to bed.”
Not what I was expecting to hear. I peek at him through my lashes. Returned safely or that I'm truly making stupid choices? More likely the latter. It has to be the latter.
His companion clears his throat.
The Chancellor says, “Oh, yes, I'm an idiot.” Did he really just call himself that? “This is my manservant, Chadwick.”
Does the introduction mean Chadwick will be administering punishment for eavesdropping? Father never foisted the job onto someone else, but I've heard of others doing so.
“A pleasure to meet you, madam.”
The unusual greeting puzzles me. It doesn't seem like he's going to punish me, though he could if he tried. He's not as tall as Chancellor Zade, but taller than Father. There's a boyishness to his face at odds with the gun at his waist. I'm not sure if it makes him less of a threat or more of one. Chardonian warlocks never carry one.
“Come in, come in,” Chancellor Zade says. “No need to hover in the hall.”
At the reminder of my spying, I flinch, but edge in as he wishes.
“Did you find something to suit your taste?” His face gives away nothing.
I swallow. Mother was right. It's going to be a trap. “I did, Master.”
“Good.” He moves closer to my side, towering over me. I try not to shrink away from him. “No need to call me Master. Zade is fine.”
“Yes, Chancellor Zade.”
Chadwick chuckles and the Chancellor joins in. What's so funny?
“Just Zade.”
“But the Woman's Canon says we must address you properly.” Not that I want to follow it, but it's expected.
His lips press into a tight line. His eyes narrow. I avert my gaze to the floor.
“This is not your Father's house. Here I'm Zade, nothing more.”
Chadwick coughs.
Zade grunts. “Do you need anything else for the ceremony?”
“No, Chancellor.” Realizing I slipped the wrong name out, I cringe. It's not like I can call him by just his name, even if he says I can.
“Let me know if that changes. See you tomorrow.”
I stay in my spot for a moment before I realize I can take that as permission to leave. Not wanting to make my sins greater, I dart out and head for my room. Why hasn't he punished me yet?
***
“Did you find a dress yesterday?” Cynthia asks.
“A woman is making one for me.”
“Is it what you want?”
“Yes.”
She pats the seat next to her on the sofa. “Tell me about it before mother gets here.”
Do I tell her that a tarnished is the one making it? She's here as a spy after all. Spy or not, she's my sister. “I'm not sure it will be done in time. I should've thought of it sooner. There's more material to it at least.”
“That's good. I hope I can find the same when it's my turn. That thing mother had you try on was terrible.”
She doesn't need to know how much worse most of the options are. At least, I hope she never does. I sit next to her. “I'll help you.”
“Help her with what?” Mother waddles in the room.
Cynthia gives me a grin before turning toward my mother. “Picking a frock for tomorrow.”
Mother hmpfs. “If there's nothing better for you girls to do, then I suggest you come home and help out.”
Cynthia's face pales.
“It's my fault, mother,” I say. “I was looking for a distraction. We're to polish the silver as soon as you leave.”