“Aunt Sally” relaxed but still kept her voice low as she spoke to me. “My name is Rhonda Gables, great star of some of the biggest theatrical productions in Osfro. You’ve probably heard of me.”
I shook my head.
“Well, a girl of your station probably doesn’t make it out to the theater very much, so that’s understandable.” My family owned box seats and had seen every major show in the capital, and I felt certain that if Rhonda had been in any of them, I’d remember.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She peered around conspiratorially. “I’m here to play your aunt. I was hired by—well, I never got his name, but he paid in silver. Nice-looking young man. Brown hair. Good cheekbones. Why, if I was twenty years younger, I’d have liked to—”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “I think I know the young man in question. Do you know why you’re here?”
“Just that I was supposed to come out here to Uros-knows-where in the moors with the rest of this lot. Carriages picked us up in the city and told us we’d be fed, and who am I to turn down a free meal? There’s the man that organized it.” She pointed across the room as Jasper entered. “Do you know if they’re serving wine here?”
Jasper clapped his hands for attention, and the din died down as we stepped closer to hear him. He was in full showman mode.
“First, let me welcome you here today to Blue Spring Manor. You are our guests, and we are all at your service. Second, I want to thank you for the sacrifice I know you must have made in the last eight months by lending us your daughters.” He paused to make eye contact with random people, nodding and smiling. “But it has been our privilege and our honor to have them, to help them develop the potential you surely knew they had all along. Today you’ll get a glimpse into the world they’ve entered—a world that will be dwarfed by the riches and splendor they’ll get when they marry in Adoria.”
That last bit hit home. Nearly all of the visitors were in awe of the ballroom, with its crystal chandelier and gilded wallpaper. The idea that more wealth than this might be waiting was simply incomprehensible.
“Normally, we invite friends and family later in the spring, so that we can picnic in warmer conditions.” Jasper smiled conspiratorially, nodding toward a large window covered in ice crystals. “But, as you can see, that’s not possible today. So, we’ll have an indoor picnic. Fill your plates and cups, find a spot, and learn just how much your daughters’ futures truly glitter.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. It was hard for me to take his fine words seriously, recalling how harshly he’d spoken to Cedric in private, but everyone else was quite charmed. Families clustered together and made their way over to the buffet. Rhonda had noticed there was rum punch and had already shot over to that section of tables. I hurried after her, delayed by loved ones strolling and taking their time to catch up. As I waited for Caroline’s grandmother to teeter past, I overheard Jasper speaking to Mistress Masterson.
“It’s always such a delicate balance, this meet and greet,” he said to her quietly. “You never know if some of them might get homesick and bolt. But once the Adoria trip is official, I find the risk of running is actually greater then. If they’ve been bolstered up by their dazzled loved ones beforehand, they’re more likely to want to do them proud.”
I frowned at that as I caught up with Rhonda. If I hadn’t known sailings to Adoria were always done in spring and summer, I’d have thought his tone suggested something more immediate.
Rhonda downed a cup of punch and went for another. I pulled her away as Clara’s mother watched disapprovingly. “Now, now, Aunt Sally. Not until you’ve had some lunch. Remember what happened at last year’s Midwinter party.”
Fortunately, Rhonda was just as happy to load up on food, and we carried plates of cucumber sandwiches, cold chicken, and sliced pears back to the striped blanket. Mira sat on its edge with Pablo, speaking rapidly in Sirminican. Tamsin, radiant with joy, was too excited to eat. Her family shared that happiness but could hardly turn down such a meal. The teenage siblings—twins, I learned—were named Jonathan and Olivia and snuggled up on each side of Tamsin, eating and talking at the same time. The littlest girl was introduced to me as Merry and sat on Tamsin’s lap, happily munching on a pear. All of them had the same red hair.
“Look at your hands,” exclaimed Tamsin’s mother. “You’ll never be able to do a load of clothes again.”
Tamsin beamed. The hands she considered inferior beside mine were smooth and delicate compared to her mother’s, which were hard and rough from a lifetime of scalding water and scrubbing.
“I don’t intend to,” Tamsin replied. “And once I’m married to the richest man in Adoria, you won’t have to either.”