the engagement ring. “How did you know that Papa was the one for you?”
Morella looked uneasy.
“When you first…before you were courting. How did you know if he was interested in you?”
She smiled. “Has one of the gentlemen from tonight caught your eye?”
I pushed aside thoughts of Cassius’s smile with a shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. I thought…I’d hoped he might be interested in me. Romantically, you know. But now I’m not sure at all.”
She shifted her legs, patting a spot on the chaise for me to join her. “Tell me all about it.”
My face fell. “I’m not really sure how much there is to tell. He…he paid me a few compliments, but when Papa announced that contest—”
She shook her head, smirking. “That stupid, stupid contest.”
“Camille is far prettier than me, and she’ll inherit the estate someday. And I’m just…me.”
Morella rubbed my hand in hers. “Then he’s a fool.”
I was strangely pleased she thought well of me. “What was your courtship with Papa like?”
Her smile froze for a moment, and I feared I’d pried too deeply, too fast.
“Well, our courtship was a bit unconventional. He was in Suseally for such a short period of time. It happened very fast.”
I nodded, unsure if she’d share any further.
“But…there was a man, before all that, who I fancied quite a lot. Our eyes would catch across a crowded room and send such delicious shivers down my spine. I was much younger, not more than a blushing schoolgirl, really, but I knew I wanted him.”
I leaned in. “And did he return your feelings?”
She nodded, a red stain creeping into her cheeks even now. “I probably shouldn’t go into those details with my husband’s daughter.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and decided to be brave. “But if you weren’t with your husband’s daughter…if you were just talking with your friend?”
Her eyes lit up, and she looked happier than I’d seen her in weeks. “If I was talking with my friend, I’d tell her if she wants something, she should go after it with all her heart.”
I nodded, matching her smile. “Good. I’ll make sure to tell her that. Your friend.”
“Oh, Annaleigh,” she called out as I was leaving. “There’s a book on my nightstand.”
I found the novel and offered it to her, but she pushed it back into my hands.
“I finished it already. It was so wonderful, I stayed up for hours reading it. You would enjoy it. Maybe when you’re done, we could discuss it? I…I really enjoyed talking with my friend tonight.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. After all the preparations for Churning, then the unfortunate First Night dinner itself, I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and go to sleep.
But her eyes looked so hopeful. She wanted a friend. Needed one badly. And this book was her way of extending an olive branch. I could make it through one chapter, surely.
“I’d like that,” I murmured. “I hope you have a good night, Morella.” As I crossed the threshold, I turned, certain she’d said something, but her eyes were closed.
They released the whales first as the Churning pageant began.
The floating silk lanterns, shaped as orcas and belugas, lit the stage with a luminous golden glow. Somewhere in the wings, a mangled horn bellowed out notes, sounding eerily similar to a humpback’s calls. Actors tied the lanterns’ ropes to bits of scenery painted like a coral reef.
Next came puppets of sharks and sailfish, then squid and starfish dyed red and orange and elaborately articulated. Waves of fish, each tied to an individual line, swam out. The puppeteers were true artists, making the fish shift at the same time, just as a real school would. The glittering silver fins reflected the light of the silk balloons above.
A drumbeat sounded, booming so loudly I thought my sternum might shatter. Another and another built toward a raucous climax. I felt the audience shift its attention to the ducal box, stealing quick peeks at our family’s reaction as the final sea creature emerged onstage.
Purple tentacles shot out of a small rock, each manipulated by children dressed in black. The head popped free, buoyant with hot air and steam. The Thaumas octopus spread across the stage, performing an elaborate dance timed to the music. At the end, on the final beat, its eyes lit up, piercing and bright.
The audience erupted in applause. As the puppeteers shifted to the next scene in the pageant, I glanced at the Graces. They were