The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court #1) - Richelle Mead Page 0,7
outnumber women three to one. When women do go, they’re usually ordinary, working-class girls who are already married. That’s not what the new nobility is looking for.”
“New nobility?” I asked. I was getting sucked into his pitch. It was a new experience, having someone else turn the powers of persuasion on me.
“The new nobility. That’s what we call them—these ordinary men who’ve found extraordinary greatness in the New World.”
“It’s very catchy. Did you come up with it?”
He looked surprised by the question. “No, my lady. My father did. He’s a master of publicity and persuasion. Far more so than me.”
“I find that incredible. Please—continue with your new nobility.”
Cedric studied me for a beat, and there was something in his eyes. A calculation, or maybe a reassessment. “The new nobility. They don’t need a title or right of birth to claim power and prestige. They’ve earned it through hard work and have become a nobility—of sorts—and now need suitably ‘noble’ wives. But since women of your rank aren’t exactly lining up to sail over, the Glittering Court has taken it upon itself to create a cohort of young women willing to transform. We take lovely girls like Ada here, girls of common birth, girls with no family—or maybe too much family—and we train them up to greatness.”
He’d smiled briefly when he made his comment about noblewomen lining up, like it was a joke between us. I felt a pang in my heart. Little did he know that just then, faced with a lifetime shackled to a sullen cousin and an overbearing grandmother-in-law, I would have given up my regal world and sailed to the colonies in an instant, savage conditions or no. Not that I could have ever made it to the docks without dozens of people trying to usher me back to my proper sphere of society.
Ada sniffled, reminding me she was still here. I’d known her for years, barely giving her a second thought. Now, for the first time ever, I felt jealous of her. She had a world—a new world—of potential and adventure opening up right before her.
“So. You’re going to take Ada to Adoria,” I said. It was difficult keeping my tone light, lest my envy show.
“Not right away,” said Cedric. “First, we have to make sure she’s trained up to Glittering Court standards. I’m sure she’s received some education in your service—but nothing to match your own. She’ll spend a year in one of my uncle’s manor houses with other girls her age, learning all sorts of things to make up for that. She’ll—”
“Wait,” I interrupted. My grandmother would’ve been appalled at the completely haphazard way I was managing this conversation, but this whole situation was too strange for me to get caught up in formalities. “You’re saying she’ll have an education that’ll match mine. In a year?”
“Not an exact match, no. But she’ll be able to pass herself off among upper classes—maybe even the nobility—after that time.”
Knowing Ada as I did, I was again skeptical, but urged him on. “Continue.”
“We’ll start by polishing up her basic education in reading and accounting, and then expand into other more genteel areas. How to run a household and manage servants. Music lessons. How to throw social engagements. What to talk about at social engagements. Art, history, philosophy. Foreign language, if there’s time.”
“That’s very extensive,” I said, casting a curious glance at Ada.
“That’s why it takes a year,” Cedric explained. “She’ll live in one of my uncle’s manors learning all these things and then sail over to Adoria with all the girls from the other manors. If she chooses to go.”
At this, Ada finally came to life. Her head jerked up. “I don’t have to go?”
“Well, no,” said Cedric, a little surprised at the question. He produced a roll of paper from his coat—with a bit of a flourish, if I wasn’t mistaken. “At the end of your year, your contract states you can either choose to go to Adoria to have a marriage made for you or you can leave the Glittering Court, at which point we’ll find a suitable work arrangement to reimburse us for your education.”
Ada looked immensely more cheerful, and I realized she probably thought said arrangement would involve a job similar to what she had now.
“I’m guessing he means a workhouse or a factory,” I said.
Her face fell. “Oh. But it’d still be here. In Osfrid.”
“Yes,” said Cedric. “If you want to stay. But honestly? Who’d pick those kind of long work hours over