Midnight Jewel

by Richelle Mead

  “Father,” said Cornelius, “this is Mirabel Viana, the one I told you about. From Sirminica. Miss Viana, my father, Rupert Chambers.”

  I curtsied politely before accepting the vacant chair they offered. Rupert turned to me, brown eyes kind in his wizened face. “A fair maiden from the tranquil land of poets and philosophers, eh? How did a beauty like you end up in such a primitive place?”

  “That land isn’t so tranquil anymore, sir,” I said.

  Cornelius touched both our shoulders. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

  “It’s a shame,” Rupert said, once his son was gone. “What’s become of that country. Is it as bad as they say?”

  “It depends on what they’re saying. Most likely, it’s worse.”

  “A shame,” he repeated. His gaze shifted far away. “I’ll never forget the first time I gazed upon the ruins of the Palace of Senators. Have you seen it? Where the ancient Ruvans made peace with the western league? Splendid. Splendid and humbling.”

  I shook my head. “I never traveled that far south. My home was closer to the mountains.”

  “Ah, yes. Another beautiful place. Tell me, is that part of the country still filled with lemon orchards? I remember how sweet the air was.”

  I told him what I knew, and for the first time in ages, I saw someone who truly understood the loss of what had happened in the country of my birth. His face filled with sorrow as I spoke but lightened when we discussed Sirminica’s past grandeur, how it prevailed as the last bastion of Ruvan culture when the rest of that great empire had fallen away. Talk of my homeland made me think of my father, back when I’d believed all of his glorious victories were achieved by equally glorious means. Sitting at this party made me feel frivolous and useless. An embarrassment to our family name. I’d achieved no victories of any kind.

  “You are a delight, young lady,” Rupert told me, after a small fit of coughing. “Too good and too cultured for this backwater town. And too young for a relic like me. I don’t know why Cornelius got it into his head I should marry—maybe he feels guilty since he’s so happy with his new bride. But that’s still no reason to inflict me on you.”

  “You shouldn’t say that,” I replied, hiding my surprise. Cornelius had said his father had been the one wanting to marry again.

  “I’m telling the truth. And, yes, I suppose a rich marriage is appealing, but surely there are other fortunes out there that aren’t attached to boring old men.”

  “Actually, this is one of the most interesting talks I’ve had at a party,” I said sincerely.

  He smiled, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. “And for me. But you’ve only been in town a handful of weeks. Go out more. Dance. Enjoy your youth. Bask in your admirers. Find some hot-blooded young man who’ll give you a brood of children.”

  “I don’t know if I want a brood.” I laughed.

  “Well, you won’t have any at all with me,” he said, the subtext clear. “I suppose I can give you good conversation now and then and, of course, your own account. That’s about it. Wait a month, and then if you decide you really want to resign yourself to my son’s plan, come talk to me again. Actually, come talk to me again regardless. It would be a pleasure.”

  Cornelius returned, beaming as he looked between his father and me. “Mister Thorn just scolded me for hiding her in a corner, so I must spirit her away. But I hope you had a nice chat.”

  “Very nice,” I said warmly. “I hope to see you again, Mister Chambers.”

  Cornelius could hardly contain himself as he led me away. “Did you mean that? You’ll marry him?”

  I flinched, startled by the zeal in his face. Before I could answer, a young woman hurried up to us. “Will she do it? Are they getting married?”

  I stared in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, you are . . .”

  “My wife,” Cornelius said, pressing her hand to his lips. “Lavinia Chambers.”

  Lavinia was stunning, with silvery blonde hair and cat-like blue eyes. With that kind of natural beauty, it was a shame that she’d weighted herself down with layers of jewelry and a rainbow of silks and velvets that hurt the eye. Her wardrobe competed with her.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Lavinia said. She sounded as though she’d been born in Osfrid. “Can I expect you to be my mother-in-law soon?”

  “I . . . what? No. I mean, I don’t know.”

  Cornelius frowned. “But it looked like you got on so well. And I know he’s eager to remarry.”

  Was he? “He was very charming,” I said. “But I still have a lot of my season left.”

  “He’s thinking of moving to one of the family’s holdings in North Joyce.” Lavinia’s voice was hopeful. Impatient. “It’s small, but it’s on one of the loveliest beaches you’ve ever seen, just outside Kiersy. That’s becoming a very fashionable town.”

  “I’m sure it’s wonderful, but I’ve still got a lot to think about. A lot of other men to meet.” I backed away from their smothering presence. “And it looks like dinner’s being served. We’ll have to talk another time.”

  Mercifully, the entire Chambers family ate at the opposite end of the table, leaving me free to ponder that peculiar episode. The men seated near me made small talk that required little response from me, but one remark snapped me to attention.

  “It’s about time someone deals with those heretics. I’m glad to hear they’re taking action.”

  I turned to my neighbor. “Heretics?”

  He nodded emphatically. “Yes. They’re everywhere. Young Mister Doyle and some of the other town leaders are organizing patrols. And recruiting concerned citizens to join them. They intend to root out these heathens hiding among us and see they get the punishment they deserve.”

  I tried not to wince at that last part or think too hard on the punishments I’d seen in the past. “Which town leaders?”

  He and the man next to him threw out a few names, some of whom were suspects of the conspiracy. Recruiting concerned citizens. Concerned citizens like respectable shopkeeper Grant Elliott? Grant had said he didn’t make elite guest lists, but this might very well be a chance for him to mingle with those who did.

  When we’d finished dessert and started to get up, I overheard a woman say, “I’m surprised they don’t all have headaches, with the way Jasper Thorn drags them around.”

  “Is someone sick?” I asked.

  The woman pointed across the room at Adelaide, who did indeed look unwell. “They say she’s going home early and that—”

  I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I raced over to Adelaide.

  “Are you okay?” She certainly looked pale, and I immediately forgot about heretic patrols and bizarre marriage offers. “Do you want me to come home with you?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I do need your help. Answer two questions for me.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know where the Alanzans will meet tonight? For their Star Advent?”

  I was taken aback. I knew the answer. Cedric kept me informed of Alanzan activity in the city. But I was surprised Adelaide had even remembered that this major holiday of theirs existed. “What’s your other question?” I asked uneasily.

  “I need to know how you get in and out of the house undetected.”

  “Those are big questions.”

  “And I wouldn’t be asking them without a good reason.”

  It was what I’d told her about my own activities. I didn’t like having my words used against me. I didn’t like the desperation in her eyes either. “You can’t tell anyone,” I said.

  “You know I won’t.”

  “Of course not. I shouldn’t have suggested it.” I still hesitated, mostly because I feared for her safety, but before I could ask for more clarification, I saw Jasper beckoning to her impatiently from across the room. Time was running out, and I’d just have to trust her. I
took a deep breath. “Okay, at the end of our hall is a servants’ staircase. If you take it up to the attic, you’ll find this window . . .”

  CHAPTER 16

  I WAS BURSTING WITH THE NEWS ABOUT THE HERETIC patrol, but when I arrived home to Wisteria Hollow later that night, Aiana wasn’t there. I was on the verge of going to Grant myself—until I realized Adelaide wasn’t back yet either. I stood in our room for a long moment, staring at her empty bed, and then flounced onto my own, suddenly overwhelmed by a terrible, crushing feeling. What if something had happened to her? Why had I let her go alone? I’d already lost one friend. How could I be so careless with another? I should’ve feigned sickness too. I should’ve just insisted I accompany her home.

  Should I go to the Alanzan meeting? Surely she wouldn’t have asked about it if that wasn’t her intended destination, right? But then I again felt guilty for being a hypocrite . . . telling her it was okay for me to run around in the night while I wanted her to stay locked away and safe. Adelaide’s not like me, though. She doesn’t carry a weapon. She doesn’t know how to confront criminals in dark alleys. She could barely style her own hair when she came to the Glittering Court.

  Reluctantly, I decided not to take the news to Grant. I had to wait for Adelaide. I crawled into my bed, only to toss and turn as I constantly chased horrible images from my mind. When Adelaide finally crept into our room, I jerked upright and tried to hide my earlier panic. “Did you get what you needed?”

  She paused near her bureau. “I don’t know that I ever will.”

  I couldn’t see her expression in the darkness, but the sadness in her voice made my heart ache. “Is there some way I can help you?”

  “You already do, Mira. Just by being here. Good night.”

  She was subdued at breakfast too. Lots of girls were. Daily parties took a toll. Still, Mistress Culpepper pushed us with her usual intensity, laying out the day’s social itinerary and reminding us of our duties. I watched Adelaide closely and offered comfort once again, but she just kept reiterating that she was fine.

  I found Aiana right before I left for an afternoon tea and asked if she could deliver my message about the heretic patrol today. “It depends on how late I’ll be out,” she said, her tone brisk. She was on her way to chaperone another group. “I’ve got jobs all day and then an appointment after dinner. But if I can’t make it there tonight, I’ll get it to him in the morning.”

  I hesitated. The revelation I’d had about Scarborough wasn’t life-or-death, but I didn’t like the uncertainty of her time frame. I’d already sat on this news for one night and was restless to share it. “You have enough going on. I’ll just take it.”

  Aiana made a face. “Don’t pretend you’re doing me the favor. You want to go.”

  “You said you wouldn’t stop me.” She was right, though. I wanted to go for the thrill of it. This mission was the closest I had to any sort of heroic deed. And . . . I wanted to see Grant again.

  “I won’t stop you,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to act like I approve. It’s a bad idea.”

  The anticipation of another clandestine outing in Cape Triumph made the hours drag by. When we finally finished our evening party and returned to Wisteria Hollow, I waited for everyone to go to bed before I donned my wig, mask, and the clothes Grant had given me. Eluding the bodyguards still had to be done very carefully, but once I made it to the woods, I felt like a weight had been lifted off me. No more uncomfortable clothes. No more rules of etiquette. I was free, at least for a little while.

  Surprise lit Grant’s face when he opened his door. Surprise and . . . something else. Wariness, maybe. Then, his features smoothed, and he was his usual blunt self. “Wisteria Hollow has terrible security.”

  I stripped off the mask and cloak as soon as he shut the door. He still had no furniture, so I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “Aiana was busy, so I figured I’d bring you my news.”

  “‘Busy,’ huh? Is that what she told you? No doubt she’s off chasing her latest romance.” He turned away and paced the empty room. “You’re not supposed to come here, you know. This couldn’t have waited a day?”

  “Maybe . . . but I mean, it’s already two-day-old news.” The harshness of both his tone and attitude startled me. “Everything else I’ve brought you has been time sensitive, so I figured you’d jump on this. I didn’t expect the attitude. I can go if it’s too inconvenient—”

  “No.” He stopped and ran a hand over his eyes. “Don’t go. I’m just tired. Get comfortable, and tell me what you’ve got.”

  I studied him a beat, sensing but not quite able to identify something in his words that didn’t ring true as he settled down on the floor. “Okay.” I sat cross-legged near him, stretching out my stiff back. My scalp itched and sweated from the wig.

  As I started to unpin it, he said, “I guess you’re really taking the ‘get comfortable’ part seriously.”

  I paused. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

  “Do whatever you want.” But he looked away as I shook out my real hair, his gaze settling on the darkened window across the room. “So what is it?”

  “I was at a dinner party a couple of nights ago and discovered something pretty significant.”

  “Your future husband?”

  “Better. I found a way for you to finally make some friends.”

  He focused back on me and listened with a raised eyebrow as I explained about the heretic patrols and how he might infiltrate them.

  “You wanted to get in with the city’s elite,” I told him. “If you can’t do it by putting on a satin ball gown, then why not by joining a bunch of zealots who want to round up people for their beliefs?”

  “I’d rather put on the gown than run around with a lot like that, but it is a good opportunity. I heard about some arrests while I was in the shop this morning, but I didn’t realize active recruitment was going on.” His grimace softened. “That was a smart connection to make.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I came over, then.”

  His lips almost edged into a smile. “Yes, yes. I already apologized. Don’t rub it in.”

  “You didn’t apologize, actually, but I know you think you did, so that’s something.” He didn’t respond to that as I’d expected, and an uneasy silence fell over us. I wasn’t sure what to do now. I didn’t usually have to make small talk with Grant. “Why did you shave?”

  He automatically rubbed his smooth chin, which I’d noticed as soon as he’d opened the door. “Silas. He thinks being clean cut makes me look more like a respectable shopkeeper. I like keeping some there. Gives me more flexibility with disguises.”

  “That’s why? I always thought you were just lazy.”

  “So you agree with him?”

  I tilted my head so I could better scrutinize him. The shave didn’t diminish his looks any. In fact, I found it novel to finally get such a clear view of his face, the enticing shape of his lips, the strong jawline. “I guess I can see where other people might think it’s more respectable. But I miss the scruffiness. It was one of the few endearing things you had going for you.”

  “And you say I’ve got the attitude tonight.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s tired. I’ve been dancing and smiling all night and then trekked through a marsh to get to you.” I stretched out my leg and winced. “It was getting better, but the walk over here undid all the improvement.”

  He started to reach for my calf and then halted. His hands fell to his lap, and he looked away again. “Just keep trying to stay off it. That’ll help.”

  When the silence returned, I asked, “What’s the matter with you tonight?”

  “Nothing’s the matter.”

  “But you’re . . .” I struggled to articulate it. “You’re acting like I really am bothering you. You won’t even look at me.”

 
He let out a heavy, exasperated breath. “What else do you want me to do? I already told you the heretic lead was good. And your Scarborough one was too. I even made sure you got full credit for your genius when I passed that one to Silas.”

  “Did you?”

  Something in my tone made him turn back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I bit my lower lip, unwilling to admit to eavesdropping.

  “Mirabel?” prompted Grant. “Tell me what you aren’t telling me.”

  “You first.”

  “What?”

  “You said you’d always tell me the truth. But you haven’t been.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You just lied again.”

  “I did not— Fine.” He pushed aside unruly hair and avoided my eyes yet again. “What do you want to know? Ask a question, I’ll answer. Ask two questions. Three. It makes no difference.”

  “Silas wanted me out that first day. Why didn’t you tell me or do what he said?”

  That took him aback. “How . . . do you know about that?”

  “I listened at the door when you were arguing.”

  “Of course you did. Look, you want the truth? You’re too valuable to this case. I didn’t want you out and figured there was no reason to stress you with his grumbling.” Grant shook his head, relaxing a little at the opportunity for a quip. “And now I know to always check behind closed doors.”

  “Don’t joke. And look at me. You should have—” I tugged at his hand as I spoke, trying to draw his attention. The touch of his skin sent a jolt racing through my body, every nerve suddenly waking up. He flinched, as though he’d felt it too, and I immediately let go.