Page 43 of A Court Bright and Broken

Her cheeks bore a rosy glow. Her perfectly coiffed hair gleamed. Her shoulders and arms, exposed in the magnificent gown, were graceful and smooth.

I brought my hands up in front of my face to study them. They looked like they’d never done a day of work, which could not have been farther from the truth. The nails were smooth and tapered, the skin unscarred.

And was I… taller?

Having inherited my mother’s height, I’d always been taller than my peers, even many of the boys I’d grown up with. Some of them had never surpassed me, even after they’d reached full maturity.

Though I’d always enjoyed my height, my ganglyness compared to my friends’ petite forms hadn’t exactly improved my chances of marrying a village man.

Now it seemed I was even taller somehow.

Yes, when the Earthwife approached me, Iwaslooking down at her at an even greater angle than before. How bizarre.

“You look Elven,” she informed me as if that explained everything. “Not quite as tall as the average she-Elf, but close enough. There’s only so much a spell can do.”

She handed me a beautiful beaded evening bag that matched my dress and shoes. I opened it to find it empty.

“To carry your invitation. You wouldn’t want to lose it,” the Earthwife said. “Have fun, enjoy the ball, and at the right time, I shall let you know what your task is. Come, your carriage is about to arrive.”

“Buthowwill you let me know?” I asked, tucking my golden ticket into the small bag as I followed her to the door.

Was she planning to attend the ball as well? And if Sorchawasgoing, why did she needmethere to complete this mysterious task?

Once again, my nerves buzzed a warning as if an angry bumble bee was trapped beneath my skin.

Too late now.

“You really ask that after all you’ve seen today?” Sorcha laughed. “Have some faith, child. When you need to know, you’ll know. Now the carriage is waiting outside, so be on your way.”

I walked down the path from her cottage to the main road, stopping in my tracks when I spotted the carriage.

I’d expected a hired hackney coach. I’d seen a few of those in my life, basic black boxes on rickety wheels that jolted over the ruts in the roads and probably conveyed their occupants to their destinations in worse shape than when they’d set off.

This was more like a palace on wheels.

The coach was an ornate white-painted structure with a roof and large windows, through which I could see cushioned seats. It was exceedingly clean and looked brand new, as if this was its maiden voyage.

A finely dressed coachman sat on the raised seat in front of the coach, holding the reins of a pair of resplendent white horses.

Many of the villagers had gathered to gawk at the spectacle, including my little sisters. When the two of them saw me approaching, they squealed with delight.

“A princess,” Turi exclaimed, clearly not recognizing me.

“That’s Raewyn, silly,” Tindra scolded. “Just fancier.”

She turned to me. “I knew the carriage was for you—it’s here to take you to the ball isn’t it?”

Turi was still looking at me like she barely knew me, which made me a little sad.

“You look like a princess,” she said in an awed and somewhat intimidated tone.

I bent down, farther down than before, to look her in the eye and tapped her lightly on the nose.

“Andyoulook like a girl who’s going to be eating sweets tomorrow.”

Her expression of uncertainty shifted into joy. She hopped up and down on her tiptoes, and her face broke into a brilliant grin.

“Thank you thank you thank you, Raewyn.”

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