Midnight Jewel by Richelle Mead
Adelaide and I hugged, breaking when a familiar voice cut through the din. “How am I ranked third? The girls above me have the same score as me!”
I turned around—along with half the room—to see Tamsin confronting Mistress Masterson. “Yes. You all tied—it was very impressive. Really, what it came down to is aesthetics,” Mistress Masterson explained. “Winnifred, the first girl, would look so lovely in the diamond coloring. Ruby’s the next most precious stone, and that obviously wouldn’t suit you with your hair. So third, as a sapphire, seemed like—”
“Sapphire?” interrupted Tamsin. “Sapphire? Everyone knows green is my best color. Isn’t an emerald rarer than a sapphire?”
“They’re close enough. And my green fabric hasn’t arrived yet,” said Miss Garrison. Several of her assistants had already entered with bolts of cloth, ready to start taking our measurements. “Isn’t likely to show until about a week before you sail.”
“And the categories are flexible—it’s more of a gemstone range we’re going for,” added Mistress Masterson. “We thought it best just to go forward with sapphire so that she could start on your wardrobe. Otherwise, she’d be working at the last minute.”
“Well, maybe she could just sew a little damned faster,” snapped Tamsin.
“Tamsin! You are out of line. You will take sapphire and be grateful that you’re among the top three. And you will watch your language.”
Even Tamsin realized she’d gone too far. “Yes, Mistress Masterson. I apologize. But I can retake the exams I did poorly on, right?”
“Yes, of course. Every girl can. Though, I’ll be honest, with a ninety-nine percent rating, there’s isn’t much else to achieve.”
Tamsin lifted her chin proudly. “Perfection.”
“Poor Tamsin,” I murmured. I didn’t like seeing my friend upset, but it was hard to feel too bad for her. No one could doubt her excellence, and although the top three girls attended more exclusive events, I knew Tamsin would have no difficulty meeting elite men. When Adelaide didn’t respond, I glanced over and saw her watching Mistress Masterson with a pensive expression.
“I’m going to ask if I can retake them too,” Adelaide finally said.
“Really?” Her face was too earnest for me to suspect her of joking, but I couldn’t imagine she’d want to go through all of that stress again. “You scored in the middle. That’s not bad.”
Adelaide simply shrugged and walked over to get Mistress Masterson’s attention. Someone tugged at my sleeve, and I found one of the dressmaker’s assistants standing by me. “You’re Mirabel, right?” She held up an armful of gold and yellow fabric in all sorts of textures and sheens. “I’m here to measure you. They assigned you topaz.”
The fabrics looked so unreal, I was afraid to touch them. I’d been in awe of the clothes we’d worn so far at Blue Spring, but this was a whole new level. A storybook level. The seamstress had just finished measuring my waist when Miss Garrison strolled up and made a click of dismay.
“This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”
Mistress Masterson, overhearing, joined us. “What’s the matter?”
Miss Garrison gestured to a swathe of goldenrod velvet I held. “She can’t wear these kinds of yellows with an olive complexion. Do you want her to look sick? Her skin is flawless. You need to show it off and change her stone. Give her a deeper color. Or even a brighter one.”
After more petitioning, the seamstress convinced Jasper and Mistress Masterson to change me to a garnet and clothe me in reds. Clara, formerly a garnet, hated yellow and regarded me with open contempt. I kept a dignified expression until I heard Jasper say, “Garnet is a little more of a common stone, so it might be fitting.”
The afternoon became a nonstop whirl. Along with our measurements, Miss Garrison assessed all sorts of details. She’d brought more fabric samples in each color palette than she needed and had to fine-tune which looked best in each girl’s set. She draped us in silks and velvets, pairing them with gems and jewelry that made my head swim. She even took notes on our faces and figures, determining what types of necklines and sleeves would be most flattering.
“Well, well,” she said, scrutinizing my figure, “aren’t you a standout.”
“I . . . I’m sorry, what?”
She gestured to my chest with a swatch of red silk. “You can fill out a corset, no question. We’ve got to push and squeeze some of these girls to make it look like they’ve got any sort of cleavage at all. But you’ve got the real thing, and we can show it off. They wear lower necklines over there, you know.”
“Er, ah, thank you? But I’m sure there are others . . . that is, I mean everyone knows that Ingrid . . .” I couldn’t finish.
“Her over there? Oh, yes. We’ve actually got to rein her in. Too much, if you can believe it. And she’s so short that it makes her look unbalanced—like she’s going to fall over. You’ve got enough here to catch the eye, and you’re tall and slim enough that all the proportions work perfectly.”
I was too mortified to respond.
“Don’t look like that,” she said. “We won’t do anything indecent, but my job is to make the most of what everyone’s got. You’ll thank me later.”
“What a day,” I told my roommates when I was finally allowed the safety of my bedroom. Tamsin had taken comfort in the thought of retakes and now brimmed with energy. “Didn’t all that . . . unsettle you, even a little?” I asked. I couldn’t bear to tell them of Miss Garrison’s continued analysis of my cleavage. Even recalling it made me cringe.
“I was born for this,” Tamsin declared. “The only unsettling part was that I was wearing blue, not green.”
Adelaide, stretched out on her bed, gave an exasperated sigh. “Green, blue. It’s not life or death.”
Tamsin’s expression said otherwise. “Easy for you to say, Miss Amethyst. You look ravishing in purple. You’re lucky to have landed where you did.”
Adelaide didn’t respond, and I realized she must not have mentioned her retake plans.
Tamsin soon found out about those plans when she and Adelaide both showed up the following week for retakes, along with a handful of other girls. Tamsin was floored, especially when she found out Adelaide wanted to redo all the exams, not just a few subjects. What actually shocked me the most was seeing Adelaide study just as diligently as Tamsin.
During the time that was going on, my only real duties were to show up for my dress fittings. My beautiful red wardrobe increased day by day, and along with being overwhelmed by the opulence, I just couldn’t get over the price of it all. One dress would’ve fed us for months back in Osfro.
“How do they afford all of this?” I asked Miss Garrison at one point. “Do our contract prices really cover the cost of clothes and passage to Adoria?”
“Yes, actually. And then Mister Jasper gets even more back by either selling your dresses or reusing the materials for next year’s girls.” She looked up from her hemming to study the scarlet velvet gown I wore. It sat off the shoulder and glittered with beaded embellishment. “Although Mister Charles insists that each girl can keep one, if she wants, for her wedding. This would be an excellent one.”
“What’s Mister Charles like?” We rarely heard about Jasper’s brother and partner.
“He has a gentler disposition. I think Mister Jasper would boss him around more, but Mister Charles came into this with much, much more money. His late wife was something of an heiress.”
“What about Mister Jasper’s wife? No one mentions her.”
“Mistress Thorn? Living over in Mertonshire, last I heard. They say it’s because it’s better for her constitution than the city air.” Miss Garrison’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “But between you and me, I believe she and Mister Jasper are simply happier being together . . . when they’re not together. I guess some marriages work better that way.”
A few days later, the results came back, and Jasper and Mistress Mas-terson called us to the library again. Both wore stunned expressions. They didn’t even notice when Cedric slipped in late and stood beside them.
“I know some of you have been waiting for your retake results, so you’ll be pleased they’re in. Most of you showed improvement—for which I’m particularly proud. But there was nothing significant enough to warrant a change in rank or theme.” Mistress Masterson paused. “With one exception.”
I could hardly believe it. I never doubted Tamsin’s determination, but even I’d found it unlikely she could top her ninety-nine percent score.
Mistress Masterson exchanged brief looks with Jasper and then turned back to address us. “Adelaide. The improvement you showed is . . . remarkable, to put it mildly. I’ve never, ever seen a girl make such a leap in scores. And . . . I’ve never seen a girl get a perfect overall score. We rarely have theme changes based on retakes, though of course it happens. And in this case, it’s absolutely warranted.”
I didn’t immediately grasp what had happened. Tamsin, gaping, clearly had.
“Adelaide, my dear, you’ve replaced Winnifred from Dunford Manor as our diamond,” Jasper said. I glanced back and forth between my best friends in disbelief. “Everyone else who scored above your last result will move down a notch. All girls will still keep their gemstone themes, with a few exceptions.”
Mistress Masterson took over again and directed her words to Adelaide. “As Mister Thorn said, you’ll be our diamond. You and Winnifred are of similar size, and Miss Garrison should have little difficulty fitting you into her clothes. Since her score was so high, it’d hardly seem fair to assign her a semiprecious stone like the amethyst. We think she’ll show best as a sapphire, and we’ve done a couple of other last-minute switches—which means, Tamsin, you can be an emerald after all. Miss Garrison expects the green fabric to arrive next week, and she and her assistants will work around the clock to make sure you’re properly outfitted.”
Tamsin showed no joy at getting her coveted color. “But . . . if the ranks shifted down, then that means . . . I’m fourth.”
“Yes,” said Mistress Masterson.
“You’ll dazzle them as an emerald,” Jasper told Tamsin. “Even if you aren’t invited to all the elite parties, I know you’ll be in high demand. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of all my girls—though it looks like my son managed to find the top jewel this season.”
Judging from Cedric’s shocked face, it appeared he hadn’t been informed of this new ranking ahead of time.
Mistress Masterson dismissed the rest of us but held Adelaide back. Upstairs, all anyone could talk about was the unprecedented switch. I ignored all the questions that rained down on me and steered a visibly distraught Tamsin into the privacy of our room.
She sat on her bed, hands clasped in her lap. She’d always been fair skinned, but the pallor I saw now made me worry she’d faint. “Tamsin—”
“How?” she asked softly, looking up at me with enormous eyes. They glittered with unshed tears. “How is this even possible? I gave it everything, everything that was in me. I worked hard. I studied hard.”
I sat beside her. “Of course you did. It’s just that Adelaide studied . . .”
I couldn’t finish, realizing how foolish I was about to sound.
“. . . studied harder than me?” Tamsin supplied. “We both know that’s not true. And my dreams are done.”
“Of course they aren’t!” I found this shaken, downcast Tamsin far more upsetting than the fiery, temperamental one I usually saw.
She took a deep breath. “Mira, for some of these girls, being here has been a dream come true. A roof over their heads. Plenty of food. All those dresses. But none of that really mattered to me. I mean, I liked it all, yes, but it wasn’t easy for me to come here. Some days, it’s been agonizing. Being away from the city meant—”
Adelaide opened the door, and all trace of the subdued girl beside me evaporated. Tamsin was on her feet in a flash, face full of rage.
“What have you done?” she demanded.
Adelaide winced. “I’m, uh, not sure what you mean.”
“The hell you don’t! Has this all been some kind of joke? Coast along and then swoop in at the end to crush everyone else?” Tamsin pushed on when Adelaide didn’t answer. “How did you do that? How did you score perfectly on everything?”
I could see Adelaide trying to remain calm and put on some semblance of her usual lighthearted manner. But the effort was weak. “I learned a lot of it when I worked in my lady’s house. I was around nobility all the time, and I guess I picked up their ways. You know that.”
Tamsin clenched her fists at her sides. “Oh yeah? Where were those ways in the last nine months? You’ve botched things continuously—but not always the same things! You run hot and cold, perfect at some things and then failing at the most basic ones. What kind of game are you playing?”
“It’s no game,” Adelaide said. “My nerves just got the best of me. Things finally came together during the retakes.”
“Impossible. I don’t understand how or why you’ve been doing this, but I know something’s going on. And if you think you can just ruin my life and—”
“Oh, come on.” Adelaide’s composed façade began wearing down. “Your life is far from ruined.”
“That’s not true. I had it. I was in the top three—the three who get shown the most!—and then you came along and pulled that out from under me. You knew how important it was to me but still went ahead and destroyed everything I’ve worked for.”
That was when Adelaide finally lost it. “Tamsin, enough! I’ve gone along with your theatrics for nine months, but this is going too far. Exactly what in your life has been destroyed? You can converse about current politics, eat a seven-course meal, and play the piano! Maybe you’ll miss out on a few parties, but you’re still going to marry some rich, prestigious man in the New World. You’ve come a long way from being a laundress’s daughter, and if you were my friend, you’d be happy at how far I’ve come too.”
Tamsin flinched a little at if you were my friend, but she didn’t back down. “That’s the thing. I can’t tell how far you’ve come. I’ve lived with you all these months but don’t know anything about you. The only thing I’m sure of is that you’ve been lying to us all, and this ‘triumph’ of yours just proves it!”
I felt sick to my stomach. All the hope I’d joyously built up was crumbling before me. No, no, I thought. I can’t lose this. I can’t lose this tranquil bubble. I hated seeing Tamsin so upset. I hated seeing her direct that raw emotion at Adelaide. And I hated the way it changed Adelaide.
“Tamsin.” I spoke very cautiously, very lightly. My job was to mediate, as always. “That’s not fair. What’s wrong with her wanting to do well? It’s what we all want. And she told you, nerves always got the best of her—”
“That’s the biggest lie of all. She’s been fearless from the first day, facing down Clara and traipsing out in the night for holly. The jokes, the carefree air . . . it’s all been a cover.” Tamsin shifted her glare from me back to Adelaide. “Nerves aren’t your problem. I refuse to be sucked into your web of lies, and I will never have anything to do with you again.”
I attempted to tell her how extreme that was, but no pleas could sway her. She left in a rage, slamming the door so hard, the floor shook. Adelaide fell apart after that and collapsed to her bed, all of her earlier defiance vanishing. I hurried over and wrapped her in my arms, even though I was on the verge of falling apart myself.
“It’s okay,” I kept saying. “I’ll fix this. She’ll come around.”
But Tamsin didn’t.
At first, I thought she just needed time. We had a week until we sailed to Adoria. Surely, their anger would cool. It did,
Adelaide, for her part, attempted to make peace a few times. Tamsin wouldn’t have it. I tried as well, certain that even stubborn Tamsin would cave. After all, how many times had I seen them and their extreme personalities quarrel? Always, always, they had eventually made up.
But as more time passed, I began to face the awful, horrible realization that this might be unfixable. Everything that had happened to me before—loss, pain, abandonment—was happening again. My parents. Lonzo. Sirminica. The hope I’d had for Adoria grew dark. The ground felt like it was crumbling beneath me. And I was going to fall with it.
On the night before we sailed, I made one last effort, cornering Tamsin in the study. I vowed to stay calm and strong. I can fix this.
“Tamsin, please. Hear her out. You’ve never given her a chance. We sail tomorrow. You two have to forgive each other.”
Cold fire flashed in the depths of Tamsin’s eyes. “There’s no forgiving what she’s done. You don’t know how badly she’s hurt me.”
“And neither of you understand how badly you’re hurting me! You two are ripping me in half! I’ve seen what happens when neither side backs down in a fight. No one wins, Tamsin, and I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of pain. I’m tired of loss. I can’t do it anymore—and I can’t lose you guys.”
Tamsin’s face went very still, and after several long moments, she clasped my hands in hers. “Mira, you will never lose me. No matter what else happens or where we go in this world, I will always be there for you.” The next words came with a bit of difficulty. “And whatever’s happened between Adelaide and me . . . well. I know she’ll always be there for you too.”