Midnight Jewel

by Richelle Mead

  He went on to elaborate on what a great business idea that’d be, even though I assured him multiple times that the Thorns weren’t conducting anything like that. I gripped his hand tightly as we danced, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to slap him.

  “Think about it,” the man told me when the music ended. “It might pay better than marriage.”

  I couldn’t even utter a word, and simply let Aiana lead me to my next partner.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look . . . displeased.”

  Displeased? That was an understatement. “Aiana, do you think it would ruin the party if I choked someone?”

  Her lips twitched with a smile. “I think the Thorns might frown upon that, yes.”

  Some men behaved quite nicely to me and seemed genuinely open to a Sirminican wife. But that didn’t mean they were nice men.

  One such was a judge named Abel Mathers. He was charmed by the vague suggestion of ruined nobility in my past and sympathetic to the plight of Sirminicans in general. “Can’t blame them for wanting to leave. It’s terrible what’s happened.”

  “It is. But it’s hard getting out—and then almost harder finding a place to go.”

  He nodded along. “They should all come here.”

  “It’s an expensive trip.”

  “As bondsmen. Bondswomen. The trip is paid for. They get food, lodging. It’s better than what a lot of other people have. And they actually have a chance to pay off their freedom in a reasonable amount of time.”

  I nearly debated “reasonable” with him, but another word held me up. “They actually have a chance? Compared to what else?”

  “Penal workers, of course.”

  “What are they?”

  “Well, they’re similar. They too are bound to a master and a work contract, but they do so because they’re fulfilling a sentence for a crime—a petty one. Something like theft, not murder. It’s a more useful punishment than locking someone away. They aren’t paid like bondsmen, of course.”

  I frowned. “Then how do they earn their freedom?”

  “By putting in their time, which depends on the length of their contract. The judge sets the time frame when the criminal is sentenced in court.”

  “Are there standards or rules? Or is it just up to the judge?”

  “There are guidelines,” he said with a wink. “But ultimately, the judge decides how long they have to serve—and who they serve. People who want penal laborers or servants can apply to the court to get one.”

  I was growing increasingly dumbfounded. “They can just ask for a worker they don’t have to pay? There must be a lot of demand for that.”

  “Oh, there is. More demand than available prisoners, actually.” He was smiling too much for a topic that didn’t seem so cheerful. He had a golden tooth I hadn’t noticed earlier.

  “And you said the judges decide who gets these workers?”

  “Yes, based on who we think is the best fit. Interested petitioners go out of their way to meet with judges and make their cases for why they need workers, what kind, for how long. That sort of thing. And depending on the extent of their motivation, we go from there.”

  “The extent of their motivation . . .” I noted the gold tooth again, as well as his overall presentation. Velvet suitcoat. Sapphire broach. A judge could make enough to afford a Glittering Court girl, but this judge was doing very, very well. “People give you bribes if you grant them penal workers.”

  “I like to think of them as incentives, not bribes.” He didn’t seem ashamed in the least. “There’s no harm, really. The extra labor improves our society. An extended sentence keeps those elements off the streets. And if I make a little on the side? Well, it keeps me in a lifestyle a pretty young wife would certainly enjoy.”

  He took my silence as agreement. Really, I was pondering the endless ways that system could be abused. It sickened me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I was sent to my next partner.

  “Are you feeling well, Miss Viana?” he asked politely.

  I forced a smile. My new partner wasn’t much older than me and looked sincerely friendly. “Yes, I’m sorry. Just getting tired.”

  “I can only imagine. They put you through a lot.”

  “You’re the first to acknowledge that. Were you born in Cape Triumph, Mister Chambers?” He spoke like many of the men here, a solidly Adorian accent that bore the inflections of tutoring from an Osfridian.

  “I hope you’ll call me Cornelius. Hearing ‘Mister Chambers’ makes me think of my father,” he said with a chuckle. “And yes, I was born here. My father came over almost forty years ago, back when we were still battling the Icori and claiming our rights. Our family is one of the oldest in Adoria. We have tobacco and indigo plantations in both Denham and North Joyce. Our goods are sold all over the world, and true connoisseurs know the quality of our merchandise.”

  “That’s very impressive.”

  He turned sheepish. “Maybe too impressive. Forgive me—I’m overselling to the point of bragging. I’m just anxious to make it clear what a good position you—or anyone marrying into our family—would have.”

  “I think it’s obvious how good it would be,” I said, charmed by his fluster. “And I’m flattered that you’re even considering me. I haven’t seen a lot of that tonight.”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that a lot of the men here would prefer Osfridian brides, not Sirminican ones.”

  “Fools. Caught up in ignorance and blind prejudice,” he spat. “This isn’t a land that can be governed by antiquated beliefs and rigid policies. We call this a new world for a reason—a world where anyone, of any background, can make something of themselves. That’s what we must be going forward. Those who don’t will be left behind. And considering half of the men in this room started with nothing, they’re hypocrites as well as fools if they think otherwise.”

  “Mister Chambers—Cornelius—you can’t imagine how inspiring it is to—” I stopped as my gaze landed on where his fingers wrapped around my hand. “Is that . . . a wedding ring?”

  “Oh, yes. I was married last autumn. She’s wonderful. I can scarcely believe that—” His eyes widened. “What a babbling idiot I am! I should’ve explained right away. I’m not here tonight for a bride.”

  I looked up from the ring. “So I see.”

  “I’m here to find a bride for my father.”

  “Your . . . father?”

  “Rupert Chambers. He’s looking for a new wife. It’s a long journey from our estate into town, so I came to search on his behalf and save him the trip. He was quite the traveler once, you know. Loves Evaria. Loves Sirminica. So when I saw you, I realized what a great opportunity we had. You’ve seen so much of the world, you’re so refined . . . you’d get along beautifully. He loves a good conversation.”

  I kept the smile plastered on my face and thought back to him saying his father had arrived here forty years ago. “That’s so kind of you. And how fascinating that he’s traveled so much. Was your father a, uh, child when he came to Adoria?”

  “In his twenties. But he went back across the Sunset Sea a number of times. He’s a very cultured man.”

  And an old man, I thought, doing the math. At least sixty.

  “Yes,” said Cornelius, who seemed to guess what I was thinking, “there’d be an age difference, but as I said, marrying into our family would give you every luxury you’ve ever desired. And my father shares my views on the future of this land. No outdated prejudice in our home. We won’t allow any slight to fall your way. All that matters is what a wise and enterprising girl you are—and a beautiful one.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

  “At least tell me you’ll meet him,” Cornelius pushed. “Add one of our parties to your schedule and talk to him. If it doesn’t work
out, then that’s all there is to it, and you’ll be off to some other lavish offer.”

  His face was so earnest, his eyes so big that I couldn’t deny him. “I’d love to meet your father,” I said.

  He spent the rest of our dance lauding his father and their family’s virtues, right up until the moment Aiana sent me on to the next man. By this point, I was exhausted with conversation.

  “Did I see you dancing with Cornelius Chambers?” he asked. This new partner also had a colonial accent, stronger and less refined than Cornelius’s. “He’s a good pal of mine.”

  “He seems very nice,” I said automatically. “I think I’ll be attending a party at his home at some point.”

  “I’ll be attending one there tonight.” His expression turned sly. “But it’ll probably be a lot different than the one you’ll go to.”

  “How so, Mister— I’m so sorry. I missed your name.” I’d been too distracted when Aiana introduced us.

  “Miller. Abraham Miller. Cornelius hosts the best poker games in this colony. Maybe any colony. A bunch of us are heading way out to his place as soon as this lets out. Should be fun. We’ll have a lot to talk about after this, and maybe I’ll make some coin on the side.”

  Abraham Miller.

  I knew that name. I’d heard it just a few nights ago when I’d told Silas and Grant about Theodore Craft. Abraham Miller worked in the port’s customs office and was suspected of forging ship manifests for the conspirators. And find out if Abraham Miller was the customs inspector on duty. We really need to search his place one of these days, if we can ever get a safe chance.

  “I wish you good luck then, Mister Miller,” I said. “Isn’t the Chambers plantation well outside of town? Seems like you’ll have a late night.”

  His lips flattened into a straight line. “Yes, that’s the one downside about his games. Takes over an hour to get there, even by horse. Their family used to keep a town house here in the city but sold it over the winter. No idea why.”

  When that dance ended, Aiana told me I could have a short break. As we walked toward the dais, I whispered, “I have some information that Grant might want. Do you think you could get a message to him tonight?”

  She turned, puzzled. “I thought you were done with all of that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I spoke to Silas the other day. He told me about your trip to see him.” She didn’t elaborate on my illicit excursion, but her expression conveyed exactly what she thought of it. “He also said it was a bad idea having you involved and that you’d been cut out.”

  “He changed his mind. I think Grant talked him around.” I hoped she wouldn’t read the lie in me, that Grant simply hadn’t followed Silas’s instructions.

  “I wish he hadn’t.” Her frown deepened. “I can’t get anything to Grant tonight—not with all of this going on—but I’ll take a message in the morning.”

  “But—”

  “It can wait, Mira. And you’ll wait too. No more sneaking out. It’s my job to protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

  I didn’t argue, not with that steel in her voice, but I couldn’t let the matter go so easily. She was wrong. My news couldn’t wait until morning, not when I knew for sure Abraham Miller would be away tonight. But how could I get it to Grant any sooner?

  Adelaide was on break too. I sat beside her, glad to rest my ankle. We recapped our nights and then fell into weary silence, simply content to watch the buzzing crowd. The Glittering Court might be the most dazzling guests here, but plenty of Cape Triumph’s leading citizens drew the eye in their own elaborately embellished and colored finery. They made a fascinating display as they moved about the room in dances and conversations, and I took a moment to appreciate what a truly incredible world I’d somehow ended up in. Then, amidst all that brightness, I caught sight of a dark spot. A laborer, stooped and clad in a dull, oversized coat, was pushing chairs out through the back door we’d used for our entrance. I couldn’t believe it.

  “What is it?” asked Adelaide, seeing me stand up.

  “I . . . it’s nothing. But I need . . . I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”

  I darted down the steps, feeling horrible for leaving her without a real explanation. But I had to know why Grant was here.

  It took some time to work my way through the packed room. A few guests regarded me with interest, but it was Aiana and the Thorns I needed to dodge. They were the ones who maintained my schedule here, and they’d know slipping out the back door wasn’t part of the agenda.

  I managed it unnoticed and found myself back in the holding room, which was mostly deserted, except for a couple of other laborers bringing in barrels of ale and wine. None of them was Grant, and I wondered where he’d gone.

  “Here she is, the sensation of the night.”

  I spun around and found Grant standing right behind me. He was in the disguise he’d worn at our first meeting but spoke to me in his regular voice. “What are you doing here? Checking up on me?”

  “Checking up on everyone.” The fleeting, upbeat Grant was gone. He was on the hunt again, focused and to the point. “You and your friends might be the alleged attraction, but this is the type of event that throws the rich and powerful together. It’s a great chance to watch and see who’s chummy with who.”

  “Whom,” I said. “Who’s chummy with whom.”

  “Don’t correct me on your second language.”

  “Isn’t it your second language too?”

  “I’ve been speaking it longer.”

  “Well, I’ve been studying its grammar longer. Look, it doesn’t matter. And I can tell you two people who are chummy. Cornelius Chambers and Abraham Miller.”

  “I already know that. They run in the same circles.”

  “Did you know Cornelius is having a poker game after the ball?”

  “People like me don’t make those kinds of guest lists.”

  “Abraham Miller does. He’ll be there. Late. And his town house will be all alone.”

  Understanding flashed across his face. “Mirabel . . .”

  “You can thank me later. Stop moving chairs, and get over there.”

  He sighed, hope fading. “If only. That’s a two-person job, and Silas is still away. You did good work, though.”

  “Then let me do more,” I blurted out. “Take me along.” Aiana’s disapproving face flitted through my mind, and I promptly disregarded it.

  “No.”

  “When are you going to get an opportunity this good? And you know I can handle myself.”

  “Handle yourself? Sneaking into Cape Triumph isn’t the same as breaking and entering.”

  “I did it on the ship. Remember? When I effortlessly uncovered all your secrets?”

  “Don’t even start.” He looked me over, and I could almost see his thoughts spinning. This was a good opportunity, one he desperately wanted. “You’re a little overdressed. Or maybe underdressed? That bodice looks . . .”

  “Distracting?” I suggested.

  “Cold.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll change so that you can focus on the job.”

  “As if I’d— Look, this is serious. Miller lives in an upscale part of the city. His building is guarded, and the militia tends to patrol there more than other places. They’re bribed to. We’ve got to be careful.”

  “Then we’d better make the most of our time. I’ll sneak out of the house like I did before.” I reconsidered, thinking about the long trip to and from Wisteria Hollow. “Actually . . . I’ll just save us the time and slip away as soon as this wraps up.”

  “You don’t think they’ll notice they’re one girl short? They watch your every move. I’ve seen it tonight. Aiana never takes her eyes off you or the other two she’s in charge of.”

  “Well, she obviously did for me to get back here. I’m te
lling you, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to change and sneak out. That’s not your problem. And I’ll leave her a note. Just so she doesn’t worry or report me missing.”

  He gave an exasperated sigh, but I knew he’d already caved. “Great. Then I’m the one Aiana comes after and yells at tomorrow. There are a lot of words for ‘idiot’ and ‘bastard’ in our language, and she knows them all. I even think she invented some.”

  “That,” I said, “is your problem.”

  CHAPTER 14

  THE END OF THE BALL WAS CHAOTIC—WHICH WAS PERFECT for me. Once the official dance schedule ended, brazen suitors tried to catch our girls’ attention for a quick, last-minute conversation or compliment. I managed to obtain a scrap of paper and scrawled G.E. on it. Aiana was tied up with a group of men all trying to talk to her at once. Some complained about their dance cards, and others wanted to schedule future meetings. All the chaperones were in similar situations. I got someone to deliver my note to her, and then I darted out of the main hall. She would understand the meaning, but I doubted she’d be able to break free fast enough to stop me. I was also certain she’d cover for me—but wouldn’t be happy about it.

  The back room was empty, but the door had been propped open, revealing lingering mercenaries and the arrival of our coaches. Mistress Culpepper had had extra boxes of dresses and accessories brought along, just in case, and I was relieved to see they hadn’t been loaded up yet. It was going to get very busy back here, very quickly, and I immediately began rummaging through the boxes’ contents. Finding a blonde wig similar to my last one was easy. But inconspicuous clothes were harder to locate. I finally stripped off my elaborate overdress and decided to just wear the opaque black chemise underneath. I managed to locate gloves and a velvet mask but no suitable cloak. Desperate and pressed for time, I snatched up a wide, burlap tarp and draped it over my head and body like a cloak, pinning it with a spare broach. I rolled up the overdress into a big satin bundle that I carried under my arm. I tried not to think about the wrinkles.