“No, I—” I’d rather die than share a table with Endlewild, I don’t say. It’s bad enough sharing a room. My dress suddenly feels even tighter. “I’d better do what’s expected.”
“All right,” she relents. “But find me after dinner. There’ll be a reception in the drawing room. Or come to my chambers. A servant will tell you the way. Promise.”
She’s gone before I can answer.
I am seated with the Graces, the royal table mercifully at my back. I also notice a healthy amount of space between myself and the two Graces seated next to me. One is Pearl, Rose’s rival beauty Grace at Willow House. Her hair, done up with rhinestone-studded combs fashioned to look like starlings, is a unique shade of opal. Varying hues of turquoise and coral and citrine dive and then resurface in the candlelight, the colors made even more breathtaking against the dark umber of her skin. She’s been Rose’s chief competition for years. Rose pretends to be friendly with her, but I know she’d rip out the other Grace’s golden eyes and mash them into an elixir if given half the chance.
The other, I learn, is Narcisse. From the lacquered bell charms at her ears and on her bracelet, and the lilt of her laugh, I assume her gift is music. Graces like her are almost always put to work entertaining wealthy households and bestowing pleasant singing voices on patrons. I’ll probably have to sit through Narcisse’s recital later this evening. At least there will be plenty of wine.
Pearl and Narcisse’s easy chatter dies a sudden, gruesome death at my arrival.
“So.” Pearl adjusts the monstrous sapphire ring on her finger, a gift I heard she received from the Grace Council in honor of earning the most coin last year. Rose squawked about the thing for weeks, and I don’t think it’s an accident that Pearl is wearing it now. “A royal invitation for the Dark Grace. Has that ever happened before? Narcisse and I receive simply stacks of them, for one party or another. But you—I never would have thought it possible.”
“Nor I.” Rose sips her wine, sharing a loaded look with her rival. I’m so happy I can unite them in their distaste for me.
“And how exactly did you achieve such an honor? The royal family is very exclusive when it comes to these dinners. I was surprised to see even our dear Rose here tonight.”
“Yes,” Narcisse chimes in. She pats at her chignon, which boasts the reds and golds and coppers of living flame. Grace powder sparkles on her white shoulders. “It seems as if you’re quite the favorite with the crown princess.”
I take a gulp from my own goblet, if only to buy myself time. The wine is too sweet, more like honeyed nectar. I’m tempted to dump a spoonful of Etherium into it from the crystal dish at the center of the table. Anything to help me get through this night.
“What’s wrong?” Laurel drums her fingertips against the table. “Jealous?”
I could kiss her. The Graces frown, glancing over at the cluster of Royal Graces, who are talking comfortably at their table. The Royal Graces represent the pinnacle of Grace talent. Almost every Grace harbors a healthy dose of envy about their status. There are around five Royal Graces usually, each with a different gift. They serve at the palace until they show signs of Fading, and then they’re moved to a lesser house once a stronger Grace is selected to replace them. Though the Grace Laws technically forbid the monopolizing of a Grace for one family or person, the Royal Graces are so powerful and charge so much for their elixirs that only the wealthiest nobles can afford them. But, in order to preserve fairness among the houses, Royal Graces are exempt from house standings until they are excused from royal service.
When they’re not working, these Graces enjoy throwing extravagant parties and dinners in their palace chambers. I’ve heard Rose griping about how seldom she is invited to the gatherings. Though lately her complaints have turned to energetic gossip about how one of the Royal Graces might be Fading. If it’s the beauty Grace, the vacancy she leaves is one Rose might actually kill for.
“The Dark Grace is hardly our competition,” Pearl drawls. She selects an hors d’oeuvre from a passing tray that looks like a crystalized Briar rose and nibbles on a petal. “Besides, I’m sure it’s a fleeting fancy. The princess is young and sheltered. A fascination with such a…creature is understandable. She’s never seen anything so grotesque.”
My ears begin to burn, the cord of my magic quivering. I fight the urge to send it out and make that beautiful Grace hair fall out of her head.