“Uncle Charles contracts her,” Cedric explained. “Usually, her job is following up with girls after they’ve married. If she sees anything amiss or any bad treatment, she . . . deals with it.”
Before we could ask for more details, Mistress Culpepper called us into formation to make our grand entrance. Just as before, I would lead. My hands began to shake with nervousness, and I fiercely fought for control. I’d been announced and entered alone in countless parties back in Osfrid. I was no stranger to crowds or displays, unlike many of the other girls. They might have completed their training, they might look the part of nobility, but what we were about to do was beyond what many of them had ever experienced. Some were pale, others trembling.
Mistress Culpepper told me to go. I wished I could see Mira and get one last look of encouragement, but she was in line behind me and out of sight. Then, I caught sight of Cedric standing near the door. He met my eyes and nodded. I stepped forward.
“Adelaide Bailey, diamond,” someone announced.
The hall might have been simple in nature, but the Thorns had gone to a lot of expense and labor to convince the guests otherwise. Flowers and candles, linen and crystal . . . if not for the rough wooden walls and exposed beams above, this could have passed for an affair back home. A walkway had been cleared through the room for us to proceed to a raised dais on the opposite side. Guests lined the aisle, orderly and quiet, with none of the coarseness from the docks. These were the elite of Adoria, well-dressed, with wineglasses in hand as they studied us politely. Women were mingled in the crowd: mothers hoping to help their sons, or society ladies who were simply curious.
I walked smoothly, serenely. I was the best of the Glittering Court. I was the new nobility and the old nobility, the descendant of Osfrid’s founders. Soon, I would take my place with Adoria’s founders. This was what all my struggles and manipulation had been for. As diamond, I would meet the city’s most elite. I would attend the most exclusive functions. And I would pull in the highest price—and commission—ever seen by any of the Thorns’ jewels.
I reached the dais, where one of Jasper’s hired men helped me ascend the steps in my elaborate dress. I took my place at the center of a long table, which held glasses of water. Mistress Culpepper wouldn’t allow us to eat here, so we’d had to do it beforehand. Although the next girl was making her entrance, I saw many eyes still on me, and I met them as confidently as Osfrid’s queen might have.
Mira drew a lot of attention when she entered. In my opinion, she was the most beautiful of the group. Jasper might have grumbled, but I had no doubts that many men would be glad to have her as a wife, Sirminican or not. Thinking of her spirited nature, I thought the trouble might come in her consenting to be a wife. It made me smile, just as I met Warren Doyle’s eyes in the crowd. He smiled back, thinking I’d done it for him.
When we were all seated, the high-society decorum degenerated a little. Cedric, Jasper, Charles, and Aiana were immediately solicited for introductions, with suitors and their representatives lining up to get a chance at us.
Mira, seated on my left, remarked, “It’s going to be a long night.”
Despite what seemed like initial disorder, things soon progressed. Cedric came for me and took my arm, escorting me across the floor. “Ready to meet your greatest admirer?” he asked.
“I thought you were my greatest admirer.”
“I’m just a humble man. Not an absurdly rich and doting future statesman.”
I studied Warren Doyle as we approached. His face was alight, and he shifted excitedly from foot to foot. His coat was cut like Cedric’s, fitted and buttoned to the neck in a bronze shade. He looked like he was trying to remain calm and serious, but his face broke into a grin as we grew closer.
“If it makes you feel better,” I said softly, “I like your coat better.”
“Well, don’t tell the poor guy. I think he’d burst into tears if he knew you thought less of him.”
I managed to stop myself from laughing, but a grin still crept out—which Warren again thought was for him.
“Mister Warren Doyle,” said Cedric with no trace of his prior teasing. “May I present Miss Adelaide Bailey.”
I gave the delicate curtsey driven into us at Blue Spring, and Warren took my hand, still smiling broadly as he shook it. “I know I should be more decorous, but I can’t help it . . . I’m just too excited. You probably think I’m uncivilized.”
I smiled back, amused at his nervous eagerness. “Not at all, Mister Doyle.”
Cedric gave a small bow and a wink to me that Warren didn’t see. “I’ll leave you two to talk, and then I’ll come back for your next introduction.”
He left, just as the string quartet began to play. Warren held out his hand and swept me into a dance. “You must call me Warren,” he said. “I like to be straightforward.”