Page 150 of House of Marionne

I wait for my toushana to strangle me with panic, but it only flutters below my skin in a hushed calm. She knows I’m not trying to get rid of her and she is completely at peace.

“Isn’t Miss Feldsher going to see you tonight?” Grandmom inspects the letter, tugging at its seam, and my heart pounds. But the magic works as it should and it doesn’t open. She hands it to me, flustered. “Well, go on. What does she want?”

If I open the letter, Grandmom will read it. My toushana hums in agreement. If I lie, she may see through me. My dark magic burns colder. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea either. The best thing I can do is try for an earnest distraction. The chill in my veins hums, content, as if in agreement.

“I’m not sure,” I say to Grandmom, tossing Abby’s letter aside. “Mrs. Cuthers, before you go, you have to see my dress!” I hop up from the table with more zeal than I feel and pull her over to the window to behold the magnificence Vestiser Laurent created for me.

“Oh, Quell, it’s exquisite.” She pulls the hanger down and holds it to me, and I spin.

“And the shoes!” I drag her from item to item, doting until Grandmom’s pulled into a conversation with her own beauty Shifter for the day. The excitement drones on and when Grandmom’s not paying the least bit of attention, I slip the note into my bag and stuff the whole thing in a corner.

Grandmom checks her watch. “It’s about time to start your makeup and hair. Pictures will begin two hours before the ceremony.”

I climb into the chair and recognize the beauty Shifter as the same one who helped me on festival day. “Sam, is it?”

“Yes, Miss.” She blushes and works her magic over my face, reminding me ten thousand times to look at her instead of at the corner where I hid my bag. When she’s done, she moves on to my hair. I opt for a simple updo since I’ll be donning giant earrings from the House’s parure. While Sam works my hair with her magic into different styles until she finds one she likes, I spot Grandmom slipping out into the hall for a private word with the caterer. I hop out of the chair.

“Miss, I’m not—”

“Just a second!” I hurry to my bag, dig out the note, and rip it open.

Oh my gosh! I hope you’re okay. I’ll do as you say. And there’s something I need to tell you. I heard Nore Ambrose might be dead! See you tonight.

—Abby

The door to Grandmom’s room clicks open, and I call on my toushana to turn the note to ash. I hide the mess in my bag and return to my chair.

“We’re about done, I hope?” Grandmom says, checking her watch again.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam hands me a mirror.

Grandmom takes it out of my hand. “No time. Everyone out, please!” She pulls down my dress as the room empties. “It’s only fair that I get to see you first in your gown.” She winks.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I slip the gown over my head.

Grandmom’s lips twist. She taps them.

“Is something wrong?”

I turn for a glimpse in a mirror, but she snatches me forward.

“No, no, I don’t think so.”

I gaze at the sea of sparkling chiffon swishing around me. “I think it’s stunning, Gran—”

“Get Vestiser Laurent here, now,” she says to someone outside the door.

“I really don’t want to make any trouble, this is fine.”

“Nonsense, Laurent was told to stand by for last minute changes.”

Last minute changes? The snag in what I thought was happening unsettles me, but I bite my tongue as Vestiser Laurent enters.

“My apologies, Headmistress, is something not to your liking?” he asks, his expression pinched with concern.

“This is not going to work.”

“I don’t understand. I handstitched this gown with my four-thread twine, the absolute best for magical conduction. The fabric is lined with Cultivator agents, so any magic she uses while wearing it lasts longer. There’s Retentor resistance worked into the inner sleeves, masked by those sparkles, to ensure her magic cannot be easily removed. I’ve put all the bells and whistles on this thing.”