“I can pin them tighter,” said Ella. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
Kit swayed back and forth to watch the skirt swish. “You’re brilliant, you know that?” she said, touching one of the silken straps. “What did you make for yourself?”
“Well — nothing. I designed something, though, and commissioned it.”
“Oooh, listen to you, all plush.”
“I know.” Ella fidgeted. “But knits are coming into fashion, and my dad’s doing a new collection for Practical Elegance. He hired some really quality knitters to make up the samples, including this….”
Ella heard Serge’s chime. Quickly, before he arrived, she changed into her dress. It was light, bright blue, with material as thin and fine as Kit’s, and the skirt was full, hanging in a hundred soft pleats to the floor. It pooled just a little around her feet and trailed behind her in a train. Slim white cables framed the bodice, then blossomed into an intricate, structured pattern that decorated part of her collarbone and arced over one shoulder, like jewelry made of silk. She clasped the woven belt around her waist, and the knit hugged her curves just so.
A faint cloud of blue dust popped suddenly into existence between them, and Serge materialized, looking impeccable — and deeply admiring. “That gown is a dream,” he said. “I couldn’t have imagined anything more beautiful myself.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you could have.”
Serge smiled. “Fair enough.” He turned his attention to Kit. He fitted the straps of her gown and replaced her boots with slippers for dancing. Gray pearls appeared at her ears and throat, and Kit touched them with reverent fingers as he dressed her locks in a complicated braid that fell over one shoulder. “There we are,” he said. “Happy?”
Kit stared at herself in the mirror. “You’re so kind,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you’re real. Both of you. I have to show Mum —thank you —” She bolted from the room.
Serge shook his head. “Rapunzel’s coming,” he said, brightening. “I got a letter back from the Green Commonwealth just yesterday. She’ll be here tonight with a friend.”
“Oh, good!” Ella said. “Dash has been wanting to thank her in person. What’s she like?”
“Refreshing,” said Serge. “Nothing like the Coterie girls.” He surveyed Ella’s gown. “I just have one little idea. Do you mind?”
Ella did not. A cloud of fairy dust burst around her, and she looked down to find that Serge had filled the soft folds of her skirt with tiny lights that moved and glowed within the thin blue silk, like she’d netted a thousand silver fireflies. Lights glittered from the white cables on her bodice and shoulder too.
Serge arranged her curls into a soft, high twist. “Jasper told me exactly how he wanted it,” he murmured. “He was extremely specific — two pages of instructions. You’d think I hadn’t been dressing hair for eighty years….”
“How is he?” Ella demanded. “When are you going to see him?”
Serge’s face clouded, and his singed wing flicked in agitation as it always did now whenever Jasper came up. “I’ve told you,” he said. “When your year with me is finished, I’ll go.”
“And I told you —”
“Hush.” He settled the last curl and turned Ella toward the mirror. “There.”
She tensed at the sight of her reflection. The way her hair twined around her head, twinkling with lights, it looked like a jeweled crown.
“Exquisite,” said Serge quietly. “Every inch a princess.”
Ella tried to swallow her terror. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stand next to Dash in this gown, with this hair, and pretend to be this person when everyone knew she wasn’t. When she knew she wasn’t.
“There will be people down there tonight who want to make you feel as small as they are,” said Serge. “Don’t let them. Smile at their barbs. It’s the worst thing you can do to them.”
Nausea slithered in her guts. But she drew a deep breath and let it out again.
“Great White skies,” came a reverent voice from the door, and Ella turned her head to see Sharlyn gazing at her, one hand at her throat. “We have to make that gown part of the collection. People are going to want to buy it tomorrow.”
“It isn’t practical.”
“But it could be,” said Sharlyn, approaching. “Your father might even be able to illuminate the skirt himself.”
“Or make it removable,” said Ella. “It could double as a sleeping sack or something, if it was waterproof.”
Serge left them alone together, and Sharlyn offered Ella a small box, white and ribboned. “Don’t open it yet,” she said. “Wait for your father. Earnest?” she called toward the door. “She’s all ready. You can come in.”
Ella’s dad came through the door and stopped, looking dazed. “Ell,” he managed. “You’re a princess.”
That word again. Desperate for a distraction, she opened the box in her hands. Within lay a pair of earrings different from any jewelry she had encountered. They were clusters of some organic material — seeds, perhaps — russet and lacquered to shining.
“I don’t know if you’re familiar with the custom of planting trees for the dead,” said Sharlyn. “In Yellow Country, when a loved one dies, we bury them with seeds. Fruiting trees grow from their graves.”
Ella nodded, twisting one of the earrings around in her fingertips and watching the seeds pick up the light.
“My first husband is buried near my old home with the rest of my family,” said Sharlyn. “In the ancestral orchard. It was hard to leave those trees, but for your father, I could let go.”
Ella glanced up, listening.
“What I didn’t know then,” Sharlyn went on, “was that Earnest had taken a liking to our tradition. He planted pomegranate seeds at the head of your mother’s grave in Eel Grass, almost two years ago.”
“I know,” said Ella, surprised now. She looked at her dad. “I thought Sharlyn wanted you to put that tree there.”
Her dad shook his head. “My idea,” he said. “And it’s unusually early, but your mum’s tree has already fruited. Those earrings are made of the seeds that came from that first fruit.”
Ella couldn’t see the seeds now. Water filled her eyes and blurred them. She gripped the earring. “These … are from Mum?” she mumbled.
“In Yellow, we believe that the dead only bear early fruit if they’re completely at peace in the Beyond,” Sharlyn said. “So wear her seeds. And know that she’s happy.”
It was her dad who stepped forward to gather her in his arms, but Ella drew Sharlyn in as well, and for a little while, none of them could do anything but hold each other. Eventually, her dad drew back and helped her put the earrings on, his fingers shaking. He gave her a handkerchief, and she tried to fix her face as voices and music rose upon the evening breeze. A glance down into the courtyard showed that the garden was growing full.
Ella kissed her dad and stepmum, and she hurried down the back stairs of the girls’ dormitory. She sidled around the headmistress’s cottage and out behind the primary school until she was just beyond the Poplin grounds, on the quiet dunes beside the sea.
He was already waiting there, shining in the twilight, so splendid that she faltered when she saw him. His crown glinted on his golden head in the last rays of the setting sun, and it took her a moment to convince herself that he was still just Dash — that the rest was only costume.
When she reached him, he grabbed her hand ungracefully and shoved a corsage onto her wrist, mauling a good number of petals to death as he did so. “You,” he said. “Look —” His eyes lingered on her hair, her eyes, her gown. “Ella,” he rasped.
She relaxed. That was more like it.
“Then it’s all right?” she asked, stepping back and twirling. “Good enough for the quints?”
He pulled her to him and gave her his wordless reply.
THEY were in definite danger of forgetting the party. Ella laughed breathlessly and pulled away from him. “We�
��ll be late,” she protested. “And I can’t afford to mess up.” She suddenly looked anxious, and he offered his hand. She took it. Hers was clammy.
“It will be all right,” he said.
“Will it?”
Dash shrugged. “Well,” he said. “It will be over, at least. Eventually.”
Ella laughed. “You’re a real comfort,” she said, nudging him.
As they walked back toward the courtyard, the noise level swelled and the music grew louder. Ella pushed a bit closer to him as if he could shield her.
“How long before I get used to this?” she asked under her breath.
He shook his head. He didn’t know. This had always been his life.
Together, they walked under the flowering archway and entered the courtyard. The Current played a fanfare. Golden sparks shot into the air. Everyone turned to look at them as the scribes began to call out.
“Dash! Ella! When will the two of you be married?”
“Does your father know where Nexus Maven is hiding?”
“Have you read Nexus Keene’s official report on the Jacquard fire?”
Dash looked toward this sensible question and found Nettie Belting on the other end of it. He smiled. “Nettie,” he said. “Congratulations on your award. Did you really meet with Exalted Nexus Keene?”
Nettie grinned. “I did,” she said. “He gave me a private audience and a commendation for investigative excellence. Couldn’t believe it. Thrill of my life.”
“Well done,” said Dash. “And well deserved.”
Nettie beamed. Dash led Ella away from the entrance and into the crowd of Assembly and Guild families, some of whom approached them warmly. Others opened up their circles as Dash and Ella passed, soliciting their attention. But several of the upper-tier families stood back at the edges of the courtyard, and Ella heard malicious laughter from more than one clustered group. She tried to stay focused on the Trapuntos, who were very kind and who had a great interest in labor reform.
As they left the Trapuntos behind, Dash cleared his throat and motioned with his head toward the buffet tables.
“I’m going to say hello to my aunt.”
“And I’m going to check on the worktables,” said Ella. “Meet you in a bit?”
THEY parted ways, and Ella headed toward the back of the fairy-lit garden, where a great tent had been erected. Inside it, Mrs. Wincey and Chemise were organizing the charity work, helping other guests with sewing and knitting projects for the children of the school. Before Ella reached the tent, someone spoke from the throng of glittering Coterie students to her right.
“If it isn’t Cinderella, all scrubbed up.” This was followed by a laugh. “Bet it took a lot of soap.”
Garb Garter. She kept walking.
“Which is it this time, hey?” Garb continued, his voice needling at her back. “Did you buy that gown, or did you labor over it?”
“She didn’t buy it,” came a bored-sounding reply. Loom Batik. “I looked everywhere for knits that are actually fresh, but I barely found anything. She must have made it herself.”
Now Ella did stop, just outside the tent’s opening. She turned to Garb and Loom and the cluster of students who stood with them. All of them waited, looking half excited, half afraid. They expected her to shout. To curse.
“That’s so kind,” she said, smiling with all the warmth she could muster, just as Sharlyn would have done. “I designed my gown, but it was actually made at Practical Elegance — all except the fairy lights, of course. If you’re interested in something fresh,” she said, looking at Loom, “I can show you how to knit. Then you could make exactly what you want.”
Loom looked halfway intrigued by this notion.
“You want us to follow you into that tent,” said Garb, “and knit?”
“Only if you want to,” said Ella, whose smile was starting to hurt her face. “Enjoy the dancing if you’d rather. And thank you all so much for being here tonight — it means a great deal to the children.”
Giving her best imitation of Queen Maud, she swept away into the tent.
AUNT Tallith hugged him, ruffled his hair into a mess, and put him right to work filling up the drinks that needed replenishing. He enjoyed the looks of shock and befuddlement that met him as he handed people their cups.
“Oh — sir!” said Tanner, wincing when he realized who was serving him. “Let me take over for you, please —”
“No.” Dash pushed the cup into his hand. He’d asked Tanner to attend him on this trip to the Poplin School only to surprise him and set him free in Salting for the night, with an invitation to enjoy the party. Now he held out a cup to a girl with a pustule-marked face, whose arm was laced through Tanner’s.
“Grats, sir,” she said shyly.
“This is Kit Wincey, sir,” said Tanner. “Ella’s friend. She works for your aunt at the Corkscrew — we met when I came down here on your orders.”
Dash bowed. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, and Kit’s face turned so red that he thought she might burst. Tanner pulled her away, and within a few minutes they’d abandoned their drinks and were dancing together. They swayed to the music in the village style: her arms about his neck, his about her waist.
It looked fun. Simple. Dash searched the crowd for Ella. He caught sight of her across the courtyard and raised a hand to catch her attention, but she was speaking with Lord Quebracho. She touched her belt and gestured with her hands as though she were braiding something. Looking impressed, Quebracho offered her his arm; a moment later, they were standing before Dash on the other side of the buffet.
“Your Highness,” said Lord Quebracho. “Your companion has a sharp mind for business.” He patted Ella’s hand. “And an eye for style. No wonder she has risen so far above her unfortunate birth.”
Ella’s face fell. Dash didn’t trust himself to say anything.
“I’m pleased to make a donation to the children this evening,” said Quebracho, insensible of his insult. “From what Miss Coach tells me, your plan for Garment Guild reform is a strong one.” He looked at her. “I hope you will contact me when you assemble a board of directors.”
“I’m honored you’d consider it,” Ella replied.
The moment Quebracho bowed and left them, Dash put a protective arm around her.
“He meant it as a compliment,” she said. “I can’t let it bother me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your birth.”
“And he’s one of the nice ones.” She glanced around the party. “Imagine what the others are saying.” She snorted. “Never mind. I’ve heard it all — and it doesn’t matter. Our plan is a strong one, and once it catches on, they won’t be able to ignore it. Not even the Garters.” She took his hand and pulled him closer to the music. “Dance with me?” she said, and when Dash took her by the waist, she looked up in surprise. “What, village style?” she teased, putting her arms about his neck. “Honoring your southern roots? Your mum must be so proud.”
He leaned close to her. “Just showing the quints how it’s done, hey?” he said, and Ella burst out laughing.
SERGE watched from the sidelines as Ella twined her arms about Dash’s neck. Dash whispered something that made her shout with laughter. He grinned in reply and twirled her under his arm.
How he wished Jasper could see them.
“Here he is! Serge!”
He turned to find a bedraggled pair of partygoers standing behind him, wearing festive, fancy clothes that were half shredded, as if they’d been through a battle.
“Rapunzel!” said Serge, torn between delight and concern. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“My feet are.” Rapunzel lifted one off the ground and flexed it, and Serge saw that her shoes were caked in mud and her stockings were torn. Her hair hung past her belt, tangled and damp. “I didn’t think it would take so long to get here, but we got lost, and I really should have worn the boots you gave me and not these pointy things. I don’t understand how these
are supposed to be dancing slippers. They’re barely walking slippers — I have to sit down.” She looked around for a chair, and when she didn’t immediately see one, she flopped down to sit in the dirt, while lavishly arranged people all around her stared in horror. “That’s better,” she sighed blissfully, and she wiggled her feet out of her shoes.
“Sorry we’re late,” said her friend Jack, picking a small pinecone out of his hair and flicking it to the ground. “We meant to be here yesterday, but we had to keep changing directions.”
“You walked here?” said Serge, blinking at them. “All the way from Maple Valley?”
“No, we used my ring,” said Rapunzel, holding up a hand to show him. “The Woodmother gave it to me. I can use all the fairywoods.”
Serge’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never heard of any mortal being given such a thing.
“But fairywoods are confusing,” said Jack. “We’ve followed that ring to a bunch of places we never meant to go. We found the mines of Crimson —”
“There were auggers! They had axes,” Rapunzel added.
“So we ran back into the woods and wound up in the coldest place I’ve ever been, so I’m going to guess it was New Pink.”
“It was beautiful,” said Rapunzel reverently. “Those huge white mountains — and all the frozen waterfalls.”
“And then we found a misty lake, and I think we heard a mimic crying —”
“And then we saw a unicorn!”
“And finally,” said Jack, looking down at his clothes, “we got stuck in some kind of briar labyrinth that — this is going to sound crazy — but I’m pretty sure it tried to eat us. I don’t know where that was.”
Serge gaped. “That,” he said, “is on the Isle of Bad Endings. You went there? And returned alive?”
Jack’s face sagged, but Rapunzel only looked curious. “What’s the Isle of Bad Endings?” she said. “I’ve never heard of it. Jack, you never told me.”
Disenchanted: The Trials of Cinderella Page 37