“I just wish you wouldn’t be so contrary. I’m sure there’s some sweetness in your core. We just have to tempt it out.” She examines the ratty tips of my hair, lines bracketing the corners of her mouth. I angle away from her. “In the meantime, will you please stop baiting the others? You only draw more attention to yourself.”
I start to argue that I don’t bait everyone. Just Rose. Sometimes Marigold. And only when they deserve it. But at that moment, the glass-paned double doors of the dining room burst open. Rose barrels through, waving a gilt-edged parchment. Marigold tumbles in behind her, warm brown face flushed beneath her glittery powder.
“It’s from the palace!” Calliope nearly trips over Rose’s feet as her mistress twirls with delight. The dog’s tiny nails skitter over the parquet floor. “They’ve added a ball to Princess Aurora’s birthday celebrations!”
Mistress Lavender snatches the invitation out of Rose’s hand.
“Oh, it will be wonderful!” Marigold begins dancing with an imaginary partner. “It’s been ages since we’ve had a grand party. Her other birthdays have been positively grim.”
She isn’t wrong. Parties and balls are commonplace at the palace, especially for the Graces, who seem to be invited to such gatherings every week. But since the deaths of the crown princess’s two elder sisters, the birthday celebrations the royal family has held in honor of their remaining daughter have been lacking. Last year, there was only a dinner to which a select few were invited. Rose wasn’t one of them, and we heard about it for weeks.
“Dragon’s teeth, why did they wait so long to announce? We’ve no time to prepare.”
As if Rose doesn’t have a wardrobe full of ridiculous outfits she buys with all the coin she makes. Just the other day, she came downstairs wearing a hat with an actual bird’s nest secured into the netting, with three jewel-speckled eggs glistening inside it. Eggs that, thanks to some innovative Grace magic, hatched a trio of twittering diamond canary chicks every so often. I was half tempted to untether Callow and let her use the thing as a roost.
Rose begins ticking things off on her fingers. “I’ll need a new gown, of course. And slippers. Do you think Madame LaRoche could have them ready in time?”
Mistress Lavender peers at her over her half-moon spectacles. “This says the ball is in a week. A new gown so quickly would be quite the request, Rose, dear.”
“But I’m a favorite of madame’s. And I give her enough coin to deserve the effort.” She frowns. “Perhaps an elixir will encourage her to get me what I need.”
“That isn’t allowed and you know it,” Laurel chides from across the room. Tall and willowy, Laurel’s beauty isn’t gaudy and overdone like the other Graces’。 Though always well-dressed, the wisdom Grace makes no effort to procure expensive clothing or jewelry. Her emerald-green hair is tied in a neat, uncomplicated braid, deep black complexion free of the golden powder the other Graces apply liberally to their faces and necks. Sometimes I even catch her with ink or enhancements smudged across her forehead. “Graces aren’t permitted to bestow personal favors.”
“Don’t quote the Grace Laws at me.” Rose glowers. “You’d grant a favor to Madame LaRoche in a trice if she could give you something you craved badly enough. You just don’t care about fashion.”
“Laurel is right,” Mistress Lavender intercedes. “Payment is always required for our services and not”—she holds up one finger as Rose begins to argue—“in the form of gifts or favors. The Grace Laws are very clear, Rose. You can’t go about flouting them. It’s for your protection, as well as for fairness’s sake.”
Just after the War of the Fae, when the Graces were new to Briar, wealthy nobles would buy Grace children, lock them away, and force them to work only for their own families. Some even tried to extract the Etherian magic from the captive Graces’ blood and replicate its power. These horrible practices led to the establishment of the Grace Council and the passing of the Grace Laws, which are still in effect today. Last I checked, there are over four hundred Grace Laws, and the council adds new ones whenever it sees fit.
Some of the laws are fair enough: Graces are required to be paid for their services, which is where Rose gets her coin to buy slippers made of sea glass and rare cloudlike ostrich plumes imported from other realms. Briar is also obligated to care for its Graces once they Fade—like providing a housemistress placement, a good marriage, or a stipend. But some laws are unpopular even among the Graces, when they dare to complain about them. Rose hates the law forbidding her from showing bias toward any one patron or family, thus thwarting her scheme to bribe Madame LaRoche into completing her gown in time for the ball.