The party’s end couldn’t come too soon for me. After assuring Warren I’d be at the Flower Festival, I gratefully joined the others in heading to the carriages awaiting us outside. We only required two now to transport us. As we loaded up, I suddenly noticed something.
“Where’s Mira?” I asked. Not again, I thought. A check showed no sign of her waiting outside with us. Cedric went back into the house, and I waited by the carriage’s door, despite the driver’s offer to help me. My unease grew as Cedric remained inside for far longer than I would’ve expected. She left all the time at home, but how could Mira disappear here?
At last, I saw them come out. He helped her into my carriage, and we were on our way.
“What happened?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “I got trapped in conversation by one of those men who wanted to know if he could get a ‘deal’ on me.”
I studied her carefully. Her tone and expression seemed honest enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding something back.
The next day, we found out that Caroline had finalized a contract, bringing our numbers down further. Jasper, though excited by the progress, felt the need to give the rest of us a pep talk.
“Although your contract gives you three months to choose,” he said at breakfast, “it rarely takes any girl that long. Most are settled in a month’s time. I’d be very surprised if the rest of you didn’t have many offers at the festival tomorrow night.” His gaze lingered on me the longest. “Very surprised.”
The Flower Festival, dedicated to the glorious angels Aviel and Ramiel, was the biggest spring holiday in the Osfridian calendar. It coincided with the Alanzan Spring Rites, and there was some controversy over the holiday’s true nature. Devotees of Uros claimed the heretics had taken the traditional holiday and corrupted its veneration of healing and pure love by adding in worship of the wayward angels Alanziel and Lisiel. The Alanzans believed it was an ancient celebration of passion and fertility and that the orthodox worshippers had sanitized it.
Regardless, it was second only to Vaiel’s Day as our most celebrated holiday. Elaborate parties and banquets were commonplace, even here in Cape Triumph. We’d be at the large town hall again, in a splendid ball paid for by the governor and several other politicians. Even the engaged girls were going. Jasper claimed he didn’t want them to miss out, but I suspected he wanted to show off the girls with their fiancés to any undecided men. The gala would have a masquerade theme, which was common in Osfrid, less so here. Mistress Culpepper hadn’t been prepared for that and had to hastily make the necessary arrangements.
As usual, her “hasty” work was meticulous, no matter her grumbling. I had a delicate half-mask of silver filigree adorned with crystals. It was more of an enhancement than a true mask, since Jasper wanted us readily identifiable. The mask was the perfect accompaniment to my gown, an off-the-shoulder vision of white satin embellished with silver roses and ribbons.
“You know,” Mira told me slyly, adjusting her own glittering red half-mask, “the tradition of masquerades goes back to the Alanzans conducting Spring Rites in masks. They put on masks of leaves and flowers, or dress like animals of the forest. Men and women dance without even knowing who their partner is.”
I hadn’t seen Cedric all day but had heard him speaking about the ball, which I assumed meant he’d be skipping any Alanzan rites— unless he’d be joining them extremely late. Had he ever participated, I wondered? And to what extent? The whole notion of dancing with a mysterious partner was pagan and improper, of course, but after the Star Advent, I felt a flush spread over me as I thought about him pulling me against him in some dark, wild place.
We entered the hall amidst much fanfare, and I was impressed to see it had been decorated to levels rivaling our initial gala. Flowers, of course, were the main décor, though not all of them were real. Some had been crafted of silk and jewels, hanging in elaborate wreaths and garlands that sparkled in the candlelight. The attendees consisted of more than just potential suitors, the occasion drawing out the finest citizens of both Cape Triumph and Denham at large. I felt certain my companions and I were the grandest in the room, simply because of our greater access to luxury fabrics, but all of the masked guests were fascinating to behold.
Cedric arrived right as things started and, rather than send me off to a scheduled partner, he swept me into the first waltz himself. “Your father won’t like this,” I teased.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll soon have a lot more to be upset about,” Cedric told me. “Besides, from a distance, he might not even know it’s me with the mask. It’d require him paying attention to something besides himself.”
I recognized the tone, the lightness. It was my cue to throw a quip back. But instead, I found myself saying, “I’d know you anywhere, even with your face covered. It’s in the way you move and smell. The way you feel . . .”