Page 120 of House of Marionne

I wave at her from the crowd, hoping she sees me as she faces everyone, smiling but a bit dazed. Her mother sobs into her arms, and Mynick punches the air, radiating excitement. Abby blinks a few more times, rubbing the tiniest scar where her dagger disappeared. For a moment, the skin beneath it seems to glow or something before Grandmom ushers her offstage and calls for the next debut.

Mynick rises from his seat to get to her. I grab his arm. “Is there anything else you can share?”

“Look, I really don’t know a lot. She has her own cottage on the grounds because she takes her lessons privately. But she never comes out. Like she’s scared to socialize or something. At the start of Season, Headmistress told everyone she was supposed to be going on a diplomatic tour. Debs Daily was supposed to be following the whole story, but nothing ever came out in the paper. Everything about Nore is just weird.”

Dread nudges me. “Mynick, has the Council ever, like, leisurely visited Dlaminaugh?”

“Once, and not the whole Council. Just one of the Headmistresses.”

“Who?”

“Headmistress Perl. Sorry, I wish I knew more.” He shrugs before walking off to find Abby.

The ceremony drones on but Mynick’s words pin me in my seat. I could sniff Nore’s secret at a short luncheon, Beaulah would be much more savvy at recognizing the signs. My grip tightens on my chair as the ballroom empties. The walls close in.

Did Beaulah get to Nore? If so, she could get to me.

THIRTY-SIX

The next morning, Thursday, a note slides under my door, and my heart skips a beat. But it’s only a note from Jordan telling me I looked nice last night. I rip it up and toss it into the trash can. Friday no mail comes, and I can’t take it anymore, so I send another letter to Nore Ambrose. This one much simpler.

Are you okay?

On Saturday morning a firm rap at the door nearly knocks me out of bed. I grab a robe and turn on a light, realizing it’s so early it’s still dark outside. I snatch open the door, hopeful it’s a response from Nore Ambrose.

“Morning, dear.”

“Grandmom?”

She pushes her way inside, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s not alone.

“It’s . . . six a.m.”

“Yes, and today’s the first day you’ll be consumed by the public. It must be done right.”

Consumed?

“Our annual Magnolia Merchant Festival is today. And the parent reception tonight.”

Oh, right. Vendors will line the courtyard offering their wares to débutants. Debs who won’t debut for years still travel here from all over to stock up on goods, collect business cards, and rub elbows on the Marionne estate. In addition to picking a dress, I made a whole checklist of all the things I still need to do. A beauty Shifter with Grandmom sets up a chair and lays out a stack of magazines.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask Grandmom, but she’s too busy flipping through my closet.

The Shifter pulls at my bonnet and gestures for me to sit in her chair.

Grandmom holds up two dresses I’d intentionally stuffed into the back of my closet. “What do you think?”

Her brow rises with a challenge. I don’t have fight in me this early in the morning. Not with Nore on my mind and Abby being gone. And other annoying people sending me notes I don’t want. I accept defeat and sit in the chair.

“Up or down?” the Shifter asks.

“Whatever’s fastest.” I slump down in the seat as much as I can. It takes an hour to finish my hair and makeup to Grandmom’s liking. Thankfully she at least listened to my color choices, and I don’t look like a clown. Grandmom’s been working at the desk in my room the entire time despite my telling her she’s welcome to go. If this is what she’s like at the top of the day, this is going to be a long day.

“Now, I’ll miss the first hour of the festival or so because I have a tea with the Daughters of Duncan. They think I’m their key to reinstatement, but they’re gravely mistaken. I’ll catch up with you mid-morning, and we can finish up whatever you have left.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

She smiles, interpreting that the opposite way I meant it.