Tamsin’s thoughts, however, were something I deeply cared about. Farther across the room, I saw her watching me with a puzzled look. She soon slipped back into the rhythm of the dance, but I could’ve kicked myself for my error. Alternately excelling and failing was easy enough to do around here. Keeping track of which areas I was allegedly deficient in was more difficult. This wasn’t the first time I’d mixed something up—and this wasn’t the first time Tamsin had noticed.
Written tests followed dance, something that made me much more comfortable. No one but the instructors knew if I mixed something up. But another slip followed on the second day, during our music exam. While we weren’t expected to be experts on any one instrument, we were supposed to have a passing knowledge of each one. Rather than quiz us on all of them for our final, our instructor simply selected three and based our score on that. I hadn’t anticipated that. The first two, the flute and harp, were ones I’d always purposely performed poorly on. I assumed the last instrument she’d produce would be a harpsichord or lute—which I always showed my true proficiency on. Instead, she chose the violin. It wasn’t played much by women in Adoria, so I’d always regarded it as a safe choice to botch here. Now, I realized, to pull a decent music score, I needed to excel in something. And so, to the amazement of her and my peers, I produced a perfectly executed melody on the violin.
“Well, look at that,” Mistress Bosworth said, beaming. “You’ve been practicing.”
“You have not been practicing,” whispered Tamsin later, once the exam was over and we were on break to go to dinner. “Where did you learn to do that?”
I shrugged. “From her.”
“The last time she brought out the violin, you couldn’t even hold the bow straight!”
“Tamsin, I don’t know. Sometimes I get anxious and mess things up. What’s it matter? You’ve been doing great.”
As hoped, that distracted her. “I have,” she said proudly. “I answered all of those religious and political essays for Mister Bricker perfectly. And I know I got almost everything on the Adorian culture and society test right too. That’s one of the most important, you know.”
I smiled, genuinely happy for her. “You’ll get your diamond rank in no time.”
“If I can beat out the girls in the other manors. I know I’m the best here.” She said it as a fact, not even bragging. “But who knows about the other three houses?”
I wasn’t worried for her, particularly as the rest of the exam days went by. That zeal and intense resolve I’d seen since the first day were fully turned on, and she threw herself into each exam. When she returned to our room each night, she’d fight her exhaustion and study more.
After the tests ended on the third and final day, we were all worn out, even those who hadn’t studied as much as Tamsin had. Everyone was weary and drawn, and I gratefully went to bed as soon as we were excused from dinner. Neither my roommates nor I said much of anything, choosing instead to drop into sleep with a sigh of relief.
The next morning was a different matter. Rested and free of exams, we were hit by the truth: We had done it. We’d completed what we set out to do when we’d joined the Glittering Court. We didn’t have our results yet, but the triumph of our accomplishment was heady. Mistress Masterson gave us the whole day off, with plans for our first big celebration that night in honor of Vaiel’s Day, greatest of the winter holidays. We’d all been assigned specific tasks to ready for the party, and none of us minded applying our hard-won abilities.
“I love Vaiel’s Day,” Tamsin said as we put on our day dresses. “The food. The smells. The decorations. Seems a shame we’re doing it all so last-minute.”
She was right. Usually, winter festivities started weeks ahead of the angel of wisdom’s holy day, allowing the cheerful atmosphere to last most of the month. “Well, if Jasper hadn’t moved up our timeline, our celebrations wouldn’t have gotten shoved aside for his profit,” I reminded her.
“At least we get some sort of celebration. You know those poor heretics of Uros—the barefoot priests? They don’t celebrate at all. Say it’s idolatry. But maybe nothing at all is better than what the Alanzans do. Who’d want to be out there worshipping trees in this weather?”
“Among the trees,” corrected Mira. “Vaiel’s Day is Midwinter for them—the longest night of the year. The Alanzans pray outside to Deanziel for insight and then will give thanks tomorrow to Alanziel for a return of the sun and the days getting longer.”
I regarded her with some surprise. It wasn’t often she pulled out a fact I didn’t know, but then, she’d also probably met real Alanzans. Like so many areas, her religious beliefs were something I never inquired about. She attended orthodox services to Uros with us, which was really all that mattered.
“Doesn’t matter what they worship. It’s all pagan superstition.” Satisfied with her appearance, Tamsin turned toward the door. “Well, time to get to work. I can’t wait until we have other people to do this for us.”