Page 41 of A Court Bright and Broken

“Welcome.”

She pulled the door wide and beckoned me inside.

“You’re looking well,” she said. “Enjoying your new garden?”

“Yes. We all are. Thank you. I believe you saved our lives,” I said.

She didn’t acknowledge my thanks, seeming absorbed in her perusal of my face and figure.

Nodding slowly, she continued her thought. “Very well indeed. I won’t havequiteas much work to do as I’d anticipated.”

Sorcha snapped out of her deep concentration and walked quickly to a wardrobe on the other side of the room. It was tall and wide, made of polished burled wood and featuring two doors that met in the middle.

“Still, much to do, much to do. Come here, girl.”

When I reached her, she pulled open the wardrobe doors and stepped back, gesturing toward what was inside.

“What do you think?”

For a moment, I couldn’t manage speech. Once I’d regained my breath, I answered her.

“It’s… magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

Hanging inside the wardrobe, barely contained by it in fact, was the most beautiful gown I could have ever imagined. Actually, my imagination, active as it was, wouldn’t have been capable of conjuring something this splendid.

The dress was sleeveless, turquoise blue, a rare color. Creating a dye of that shade was near impossible. Naturally, it was the color of House Randalin, worn by all the crown’s soldiers.

The tight bodice was made of satin with a sweetheart neckline, and the hoop skirts were overlaid with a sparkling sheer material that made me think of starlight.

“Are you sure it’ll fit me?” I asked. Obviously I hadn’t visited whichever seamstress had crafted it.

“It’ll fit,” the Earthwife assured.

Then she sent me to the back room to change into a new set of undergarments consisting of frilly drawers and a white linenshift—shockingly soft and silky compared to my own rough one made of hemp.

This one was so light and delicate I feared tearing it as I slipped it over my head and tugged it down over my body.

When I had it on, Sorcha entered the room and helped me put on the dress.

It was much heavier than my usual garb and seemed to have endless fastenings along the back.

When she was done, Sorcha returned to the wardrobe–which I could have sworn was empty now–and pulled out a pair of shoes.

They looked more like art objects than actual footwear. Decorated in sparkling crystals and what appeared to be pearls, the turquoise satin dancing slippers had flat soles but pointed toes, which I’d never worn. Ankle ribbons served to keep them snugly on my feet when I walked.

Like the dress, they were just my size.

No one in our village—or any village I’d ever visited—made such fine apparel and footwear. It seemed almost impossible, in fact, thatanyonehad managed to create this ensemble.

“Where did you get…” I started to ask, but Sorcha gave me a chilling glance that shushed me.

“You wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” she said. “And now for the finishing touches.”

Urging me to sit in a chair beside the hearth, she stood behind me and curled my hair with tongs heated in the fireplace until it hung in shining coils that felt like warm, heavy silk on my bare back and shoulders.

Then she moved me to the kitchen where she took several small pots and bottles down from the shelves. After applying something to my lips and eyelashes, she rubbed a cream into my cheeks and forehead then proclaimed me “almost done.”

“Almost? What could be left to do?” I asked with a laugh. “I believe there is no part of my body left unadorned.”

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