Clothilde led me through the familiar labyrinth of furniture covered in dusty sheets. What was unfamiliar was the fact that, unlike yesterday, there were servants everywhere. Clothilde paused beside a coat of arms that had been painted onto one of the walls. It showed the tall sword wreathed in roses. Clothilde nodded toward the image. “Lady Amelia hails from the House of Theodora.” Her voice took on a reverent tone. “Theodora snuck past the gateway to the Eternal Lands by devising an ingenious disguise. My Lady has such gifts too.”
Everyone knew the story of Theodora. She was a poor girl without any magick or way to eat. After creating some kind of camouflage, she snuck through a gateway to the Eternal Lands and entreated the Sire of Souls and the Lady of Creation for help. She won their trust and a powerful sword. That was when the Royals were truly created, along with their love of learning and innovation.
I tried to feign interest and failed. “Is there a reason you’re showing me this?”
“Lady Amelia comes from highborn family. She’s the Vicomte’s child, to boot.” Clothilde folded her thin arms over her bony chest. “If you lead her into trouble, then you’ll make serious enemies. I’m warning you.”
“Warning received.” I should chide her for such forward talk, but I couldn’t find it in me. Clothilde was protective of her lady. “Now, her rooms?”
Clothilde grumbled something under her breath and led me deeper into the mansion. At last, we reached Amelia’s chamber. The place was painted pink with tall windows and long silk curtains. Amelia sat before a small table covered with all sorts of brushes, puffs, and multicolored pastes. It reminded me of her workbench in the basement laboratory, only this time, the girl was engineering her own face instead of a watch’s.
In fact, Amelia looked so perfect I thought she could be one of the portraits that must be hanging in the Havilland gallery. Her face appeared porcelain-smooth with big blue eyes and pursed pink lips. Her ginger hair hung in neat ringlets past her shoulders. Already, Amelia’s pink gown was laced up tightly, making the skirt flounce out even more broadly at her waist. I pulled on the neckline of my own simple shift. Suddenly, I felt anxious about getting ready for today. I couldn’t hope to compete with Amelia’s beauty.
“You’re early,” said Amelia. “And you look ill.”
“I had bad dreams last night.” The vision of Ada screaming wouldn’t leave my mind. I tried for hours to cast the spell again. For whatever reason, I couldn’t get the incantation to work. That happened sometimes, especially when the previous casting had drained me of too much energy. I might have better luck tonight.
“What’s wrong?” Her pretty face crumpled with worry.
“It’s nothing worth retelling,” I said.
At those words, Amelia seemed ready to cry, and I hadn’t yet told her about Ada’s torture. In any case, what help would that news afford? The best thing we could do now was focus on getting ready for the Havilland visit. “Why don’t we prepare ourselves?”
“You have arrived as quite the mess. If we’re to arrive on time for luncheon, then we must rush.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
“In that case, you can start by changing.” She gestured to a massive gown of pale green. How exactly would I lever myself into that contraption?
Remember, the faster you’re strapped into one of those monstrosities, the quicker you can get answers about Ada and the other Necromancers.
When I spoke again, I kept my face a mask of politeness. “Thank you, Amelia.”
A crowd of servants suddenly descended into the room. I was scrubbed, perfumed, oiled, coiled, and loaded into the fancy green gown. I knew it was the latest fashion, but still. I felt as if I were masquerading as an artichoke.
Finally, we were ready to step out of the mansion and into the carriage that would take us to the Havilland estate. It took two men in formal jackets to load us into our wagon, which was a boxy affair with windows on either side. The men needed even more time to strap on all the gifts we were bringing along. All these delays were starting to wear on my nerves.
Plus, there was no sign of Philippe.
Amelia shot me a nervous glance. “We won’t have formal guards to accompany us.” Her cheeks reddened. “This was all I could afford. I figured you most needed help with preparing your ensemble.”
“Quite right. Besides, if thieves do attack on the road, I’m rather an expert at getting rid of them.” I sighed. Robbers were easy to dispose of. Fantomes though? They were a different matter entirely. Once we crossed onto the Havilland estate, I wouldn’t be able to cast anything. Not without exposing myself, in any case.
Damn those Fantomes.
“Bother that brother of mine. I refuse to be late.” Amelia slammed her palm on the carriage door. “Driver, let’s not tarry.”
Our wagon lurched forward. We were on our way. We hadn’t gone far when Philippe rode into view. He pulled up alongside us on his black stallion. I had to admit he looked rather dapper with his golden hair and roguish smile. “Hello, ladies.”
Amelia drummed her fingers on the wooden windowsill of the boxy carriage. “You’re late, Philippe.”
“No, you’re perpetually early.” He flashed me a white-toothed smile. “Isn’t she, Elea?”