The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1) - Richelle Mead Page 0,36

so that we could each devote our time to studying in those areas that needed the most work. The instructors who rotated through all four manors stopped by more frequently, offering tutoring to those who requested it. The manor was in nonstop motion.

As for me, I had to contrive areas of study to make myself look busy. Tamsin became withdrawn, isolating herself with books, and I was surprised at how much I missed her frenetic energy. Mira didn’t even really need me to drill her in language anymore. She slipped into her accent during casual conversation, but when prompted, her Osfridian was nearly indistinguishable from a native’s. In fact, it was better than that of some of the other girls, who’d come in with atrocious lower-class dialects. Sometimes Mira even practiced the accents of other languages for fun.

I needed to look like I was doing something, so I spent my time rereading a book on what Mistress Masterson delicately referred to as “Female Studies.” Along with the particulars of pregnancy and childbirth, it also included information on what led to those. “A pleasing wife is pleasing in the bedroom. Your warmth and affection will ensure a happy husband,” Mistress Masterson had said in our lessons, often in what was perhaps the least warm voice imaginable. It was pretty much the only area of study that hadn’t been part of my previous life. Most of the girls had been mortified when we’d had those lectures, but I couldn’t help but regard it with a guilty fascination.

“Isn’t that the third time you’ve read that?” Mira teased on the day before exams. She was on her bed with language books while Tamsin, on a rare break, was writing another letter.

Flushing, I closed the book. “I just think it’s more puzzling than almost everything else, that’s all.”

Mira glanced back at her papers. “I don’t know. I think it’ll just work itself out when the time comes.”

“I suppose,” I said, wondering not for the first time if it was an area she already had firsthand experience with. Her cool countenance betrayed nothing.

“There’s nothing to know,” Tamsin said, not even bothering to look up from her letter. “Except that we need to wait until our wedding nights and then let our husbands teach us what they want.”

Mira set her book aside and leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t like that. The idea that it’s all up to them. That they’re in control. Shouldn’t we have the right to figure out what we want too?”

This drew Tamsin’s attention at last. “And how would you do that? I knew a girl back home who gave her virtue to a man who promised to marry her. And you know what? He didn’t. He was promised to another and told her it had all been a misunderstanding. It ruined her. So don’t get another crazy idea.”

“Another?” I asked.

“She was going on the other day about how she was going to pay her own marriage price,” said Tamsin.

“I didn’t say I was going to for sure,” Mira corrected. “Just that it was possible. The contracts don’t state we have to get married—just that our fees have to be paid. If you got the money, you could buy yourself out and be free.”

“You want to go to one of the workhouses?” I exclaimed. I remembered that first day with Ada, when Cedric had explained how girls unwilling to fulfill their contracts would be sent off to other, less desirable employment.

“No, no.” Mira sighed. “But I mean if you could find some other way to raise the money while you were meeting suitors in Adoria, you could just pay it off on your own terms. That’s all.”

“How would you raise that kind of money?” asked Tamsin. “The minimum price for any of us is one hundred gold. Sometimes higher.”

“I’m just saying it’s possible, that’s all.”

I smiled and returned to my scandalous book. Mira sometimes gave the impression that she could easily take or leave the Glittering Court. It wasn’t surprising she’d come up with such an idea—though Tamsin was right: It would be difficult to implement.

When the first exam day came, we were all called down to a meeting in the great hall. Our entrance was much different than the initial shuffling of our early days. We descended the grand staircase one by one, moving at a sedate, graceful pace that allowed us to be admired by those gathered below. As I made my way, I spotted Cedric standing with our instructors,