He hit the button and with a whirring clank, we were suddenly in motion, rising from the ground, ascending the wall like a spider determinedly scaling its web. I finally dared to look up and stared out the wide windows framing the wall in front of us with wonder. It would make for a spectacular view in daylight. “What is that?” I pointed to a stately glass-paned building, lit up against the night.
“Father’s greenhouse,” Alexander said as we reached the second floor. The abrupt end of motion jarred me off-balance and he reached out to steady me, his fingers warm around mine.
“It looks as big as Chauntilalie.”
It loomed just as high and sprawled past the window’s view. The glass was fogged over with humidity, making it impossible to see inside. It glowed opaque and green against the dark night.
“It nearly is.” He released his hold on my hand, turning a dial and pulling on the lever once more. “The door?”
I pushed it open, waited for him to exit, then followed after. On the landing were three hallways leading to different parts of the house. None of them looked familiar.
“Verity,” Alexander said, drawing my attention back to him. “This is very important—you have to always remember to shut the door behind you and flip the latch. Grandmère uses the lift as well, and if someone forgets the latch, we’re stuck until someone comes along to help.”
I studiously watched him pull the latch to its shut position.
“Try it,” he insisted, and nodded when I’d properly repeated the movements. “Good.” He looked up at me. “You must be tired after such a long day of travel. Well…long days,” he corrected himself. “Will you be able to find your room from here?”
I looked toward the junction again, remembering that I was at the back of the house, and pointed to the hall to the right.
Sharp dimples appeared as he grinned and pointed toward the middle. He pushed off, rolling down the corridor. “Come on, follow me.”
“Oh, no, you needn’t—” The thought of him escorting me to my chambers felt oddly intimate, especially given I didn’t know what his proposed gardenia meant.
“I’m not going to let you wander about the house all night, lost in a sea of identical hallways. What kind of host would that make me?”
“Technically, you’re not my host at all,” I said, scurrying after him. The wheelchair was so much faster than me. “Your mother wrote, asking me to come. She’s the host…ess.”
He laughed. “You people from Salann do get hung up on the most peculiar details. Take the right there,” he said, stopping at another turn and gesturing down a hall.
“Verity, Alexander? Is that you?” Dauphine called out, suddenly before us at the end of the hall. When we joined her, she was poised on the landing of the foyer’s staircases. The chandelier’s gas orbs had been lowered and the entryway below us was a wash of gray and lavender shadows.
“Alexander, I’ll take Miss Thaumas to her rooms. She looks as though she might fall asleep right here and now.”
“We were just on our way—”
“I’ll take it from here,” she said, her voice and smile pleasant yet inflexible.
“Of course,” Alexander said, giving us a little bow. “Good night, Mother, Verity. I hope you both have pleasant dreams.”
We murmured similar platitudes and he turned himself around, rolling away down a hall I’d not noticed before.
Dauphine watched after him until he turned a corner and was out of sight. “He’s a dear boy,” she said, placing a hand on my back, prompting me into motion. “Always so kind, considerate. I do hope your portrait can capture that.”
“I will try my very best.”
“Of course you will. I apologize for the…unpleasantness at dinner. Gerard and Alexander…they remind me of those woolly rams, high up in the mountains, butting heads, knocking into one another. They’ve always been so dissimilar, the two of them. Alexander has so many ideas on things he wants for the future of the estate, for the duchy, for the Laurent name… It’s hard for Gerard to see all the ways they differ.”
I startled as she stopped walking. Somehow, we’d already reached the doorway decorated with the wisteria reliefs. The candles flickered and danced, as if offering out a welcome.
“Well, here we are.”
“Thank you, Dauphine. You’ve been so kind and gracious.”
She smiled. “We’re happy to have you here. I like to take my breakfast in the Begonia Room—it has the loveliest stained-glass windows, facing east. We can discuss the portrait more then.”
I nodded, reddening as I stifled a sudden yawn. Every moment of the past week seemed to crash over me all at once, leaving me spent.
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Good night, then,” she said, squeezing my arm before leaving.
“Good night,” I called after her.
When I stepped into the parlor, the scent of the burning pink candles overwhelmed me, coating my tongue with their sickly sweet perfume.
I opened the crate from Annaleigh and quietly replaced all the candles with her salted sage ones. Truthfully, they weren’t much better, but at least it made the room smell a little more familiar, a little more like home.
A maid must have returned during my absence. My suitcases had been stored away, out of sight. When I checked the armoire, all of my clothing hung in a neat row, pressed fresh and free of wrinkles.
I spied my nightdress and pulled it out, having every intention of shimmying free of my evening gown. But when I sat on the edge of the bed to remove my stockings, my tired mind took over. I sank back into the decadent pile of pillows, limbs heavy, closed my eyes, and knew no more.
Dear Sister,
My dearest Camille,
I wanted to write you to
To her grand majesty, the all-mighty Duchess of Salann:
Camille—
I know that you’re unlikely to ever read this letter so I suppose it doesn’t matter how I begin it. I can already picture you tearing the paper to bits by now.
But.
I wanted to let you know I’ve arrived in Bloem and that my journey went well. I never would have guessed Arcannia was so vast. Even with all its space and scope, I still can feel your eyes following my every move. It?’s as though I’ve never truly left Highmoor.
I wanted to apologize for how I left things—running away as I did. I just didn’t know how else to do it. I couldn’t bear to stay another night under that roof, not now. Now that I know…everything I do. I understand your concerns and I promise I will do everything I can to keep from bringing shame to our family.
I’m not sure why I’m even writing any of this out. I don’t have the courage to ever send it and will probably stick it in the back of my writing desk here, forgotten until my commission is at an end and I must pack all my belongings once more.
But it?’s nice talking to you, like this. I can almost picture you listening to me and understanding everything I wish I could say.
I wonder where I will go from here.
I hope it?’s back to you, back to Highmoor.
One day.
Just not yet— Your sister, Verity
The charcoal scratched at the paper, a stark line of black curving the wrong way. I smudged at it with the side of my thumb, attempting to correct its angle. Alexander’s eyes tracked my every movement.