I gripped the skirts of my gown. This was supposedly the latest fashion. My hair was perfectly coiffed and styled. Still, something about me screamed farmer. I suppose it was better than screaming Necromancer. Still, it meant that I rarely got introduced to the various Lady Amelias I was trying to meet. Even worse, the few times I did greet them, they always had Fantomes in their houses, so I couldn’t cast any spells for easy answers. Well, not without risking exposure, anyway.
My fingers itched to empower an incantation. This mansion was one of the few that didn’t have any Fantomes in residence. Still, that didn’t mean they weren’t lurking nearby. The Vicomte was known for sending Fantomes to remote places on a whim. I couldn’t take the risk.
All my previous Amelia encounters had ended with me being shown the door and quickly. Afterward, I always had to find house servants and secretly interrogate them. It was painstaking work, not to mention nerve-wracking. At every moment, I could have been detected.
The woman at the gate began to turn away.
No, no, no.
There was nothing left to do but say who’d sent me. Not that it had ever helped before.
I cupped my hand by my mouth and raised my voice. “I know Veronique.”
The woman paused. “Who?”
“Mademoiselle Veronique Adeline Josephine de Haverville. She’s the one who told me to find Amelia.”
Seconds passed. The woman turned around and eyed me carefully. “How would you know our Veronique?”
A weight lifted off my chest. Our Veronique. This was the first time anyone had shown a glimmer of recognition when I mentioned that name. “She’s in dire trouble.” My voice wobbled. “Please. This is life or death.”
The woman stepped closer and cracked open the gate. Leaning out, she scanned the thin street outside the mansion. All the rickety wooden buildings appeared deserted. No one was walking along the rutted road. She stepped back inside. “You’d better come to the garden. My Lady will want to see you.”
My knees turned rubbery beneath me. At last, a Lady Amelia who knew something and was willing to talk. I only hoped she wasn’t as crazy as Bartley had claimed.
The servant marched off across the cobblestone courtyard. “I’m Clothilde, by the way. Close the gate behind you.”
I slammed the massive thing shut and followed Clothilde toward a massive mansion made of rose-colored marble. Clothilde strode up the front steps and yanked the mighty door open with ease. The front entrance led to an elaborate reception room made of shining wood. The arched ceiling was painted with images of a family coat of arms—a longsword wreathed in red roses. Strange. I’d never seen a crest like that before. I scanned the space around me. It was even stranger. No other servants seemed to be about. A mansion this large should be full of them. “Is Amelia the only lady of the house?”
“Save your questions for her.” Clothilde led me through a warren of passageways that led to a lush garden. Flowers burst from their small plots of ground, a riot of purple, pink, and green. Scaled trellises arched through the air. It couldn’t have been more different from the gray, cramped look of the town.
Lady Amelia sat on an overlarge wooden swing. She had the face of a doll, what with her porcelain skin, wide eyes, and bow-shaped mouth. Long curls spiraled over her shoulders. Her dress was the large-skirted variety that all the Royals seemed to favor. Its pink satin was the perfect shade to highlight her bright red hair. She looked up from the small leather book on her lap. “What’s all this?”
“Your Ladyship, someone to see you. Says she knows Veronique.”
Amelia shooed the servant away with her fingertips. “Thank you. You may go.” She closed the book, and a whirring noise filled the air. The volume was covered in tiny gears that had clicked into place, locking the book up tight. I’d known how Royals were obsessed with new machines and odd fashions, yet I’d never seen anything like that book before. Perhaps this contraption was of Amelia’s making? She was a master machinist, after all.
“I’d like to stay at your side, my Lady.” Clothilde shot a wary glance in my direction. “You’ll want to be careful what you say to this new girl. Especially what you show her, if you catch my meaning.” Her frown deepened with the word “show.” What could Amelia have to share? I decided to save that question for later. “This one says she’s a lady, but she’s fresh off the farm.”
I suppose I could be insulted. Even so, Clothilde’s words made me feel a little more confident about Amelia. The girl had clearly inspired her servants to care for her welfare. That had to count for something.
Amelia waved her dainty hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“As your ladyship requests.” Clothilde turned back toward the house.
Amelia scooted over, making room for me beside her on the swing. “You may have a seat.”
“I’ll stand, thank you.”
Amelia stared at the path that led to the greenhouse. “Clothilde’s not gone far, you know.”
“Good.”
Amelia narrowed her pretty blue eyes. “You fear for my safety?”
“No, I’m pleased to see that someone else does.”
“Well said.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Who are you?”
“A friend of Veronique’s.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. “Do you know where she is? She disappeared.”