Page 93 of House of Marionne

“You’re not listening to me. I’m trying to say—”

“I hear you perfectly well, but you are not hearing me.” She gestures for us to make our way back to the garden gate. “I can show you better than I can tell you. Come along.” Grandmom takes me back inside, upstairs, and, for the first time, inside her bedroom. I’ve never seen anything more exquisite.

A bed buried in silky linens is framed by a tall, molded headboard with the House sigil carved into the wood. On either side of her bed are sweeping views of the estate, an ornate writing desk, and a velvet sitting area. Rows upon rows of books frame the sitting area. She runs her finger along the train of spines and plucks a honey-colored one.

“Here.” She holds it in front of me, and I flip through pages upon pages of Grandmom in pictures with a flock of debs at her side in tuxedos, regal gowns, and riband sashes. “And here.”

I turn the page, and in each Grandmom looks younger and younger. Could Mom be pictured in some of these? I flip until I reach the end, but Grandmom has another few waiting. I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually I’m in a chair with a stack of books I’ve looked through at my feet when Cuthers taps the door.

“Ma’am, Miss Shelby Duncan is waiting to see you.”

Grandmom exhales sharply. “What does she need? I’m with my granddaughter.”

“Something about an invitation she was expecting to come in. The Tidwell, perhaps?”

Grandmom waves Mrs. Cuthers away. I flip faster for some glimpse of Mom at Chateau Soleil.

“For what it’s worth, it’s time I start figuring out a replacement,” she says, tugging at the lace of her blouse.

I meet her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She strokes my hands. “Things catch up with you after a while, that’s all. Tell me, what do you want, Quell?”

To be free of this curse. To make sure Mom is okay. A beach, salty air, sand. “I’d like to travel.”

She pulls a trio of leather-bound books. Inside, Grandmom’s on a sleek boat of some sort surrounded by blue water that sparkles brighter than a dream. “Where is this?”

“That one must have been on our summer trip one year. We’ve traveled so much over the years, I don’t remember.” She flips the picture on the back. “Yes, I was traveling to see one of my débutantes off for her excavating internship. Now she mines enhancers in the caves of Aronya, among other places. And this one.” She points to a picture of herself and the other Headmistresses, dressed to the nines with ribands around them in their House colors at some sort of ceremony. “That’s the Council and I being officiated as the leaders of the Order.”

“You were all made Headmistresses at the same time?” Somehow, I hadn’t imagined it that way.

“When the Upper Cabinet were killed in that terrible natural disaster, there was really no other choice.” She strokes her pearls. “There were only us four in charge of the Houses and the Dragunhead left. Ruling by Council seemed the easiest solution.”

“The Dragunhead. I’ve heard about them but never met them.”

“And you wouldn’t. You’re not a Dragun.”

I stare at the picture again. She and Beaulah are on opposite ends. But Grandmom looks rather chummy with the others. I flip and lose myself once again in pictures from places, a life my mother lived, at least adjacently, that looks like a fairy tale.

“Did your mother tell you we celebrated her sixteenth birthday in the South of France? She’s obsessed with the beach. She liked to stay up late and listen to the sound of—”

“The tide coming in.”

“So she’s told you.”

No, she didn’t. Only that one day she’d take me to the beach. That’s when our jar of savings was born. That’s when we penned our plan for the future. Mom only gave me a peep through a crack. Her reasons for that feel less sufficient each time I think of it. There’s no harm in me knowing something about where I come from.

“We have thirteen homes, Quell. All of which you would inherit. Two in France, one in London, a penthouse in New York, should I go on?”

I can’t even fathom—

“Turning out Season after Season of débutants,” she goes on, apparently convinced she’s winning me over. “While dealing with the politics of the Council is nothing short of an all-star juggling act, I’d endeavor to teach it to you to the best of my ability.”

The places she’s traveled, the glitz, the glamour. Passing that exam in there today was nerve-wracking. But it also felt like being a part of something big. A family. The Order has given me more than just a place to lay my head. But I’ve been solely focused on surviving.

“Your schedule’s already been set up with core classes for Cultivators.”

“So that’s why my schedule changed.”

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