Manon took my hand in hers. “You believed in something other than what the world told you. You questioned, and you fought for her. You put your love for her first. You argued with the specialist too.”
“Bollard knew about that?” I asked. “How did he know that, and how do so many people know things about me? Like Freddie. How does he know my clothes size? And the chef last night, how did he know about the pilings?”
“Freddie sent assistants to measure you when you arrived; they measured you as you slept. He works quickly.”
“Impossibly. And the chef?” I said.
“That I cannot answer. I only know you from what your uncle has told me, and he does not share how he gets his information.”
“Great.”
Manon backed away a little. “You know he cares about you. I mean this. He said he visited most often to check up on you and your grandmother.”
“Not surprising. He didn’t get along with Dad.” I kicked off to swing again. “And my cousins, what are they like?”
Manon took a deep breath before answering. “Claudette and Bianca are powerful and beautiful.” She added, “They are royals and you are a royal. They’ll be different to you than to anyone else, so what they are like isn’t important.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. She was skirting my questions to be nice and at the same time confirming they weren’t good people like my uncle. “So not nice?”
“No, I think my English is failing me. I cannot describe them accurately; you will need to meet them.” Manon’s English was fine. There was something she wasn’t telling me. She’d changed the subject and because I barely knew her, I let her. “Come, we should go. There is so much to see.”
I hopped off the swing, and we continued down the path. As we walked, a shadow, possibly a bird or a bat, moved over Manon’s face for a fraction of a second.
“Did you see that?” I searched the air for the animal.
“See what?”
“The shadow. Are your birds in here?”
“No, they would hate it here. The Merrics may have tricked the trees to grow, but my birds know better. Bollie has a menagerie on the roof of the building and his penthouse in New York. The birds stay there. So be honest, what did you think of the guests last night?” Manon asked as we walked on.
“You had a beautiful performance.”
“Oui. You already told me this, and my performances are my job. Très boring but the dinner afterwards!”
“It was interesting. I mean, the food wasn’t what I expected.”
“The chef made it special for you.”
“Yeah, I figured that out when most guests didn’t eat.” I still didn’t like that anyone knew my food preferences. I hadn’t once eaten like that in front of my uncle. “I would still like to know how the chef heard about my piling preference.”
“Perhaps your mother or grandmother told him in a letter. They wrote each other, you know.”
That made me stop and think. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that my grandmother or mother had told Bollard what I liked to eat. Come to think of it, perhaps all those things had been in letters. It made sense, I guessed, well a little. It was a relief, anyway.
Manon continued, “Well, the food will be all the rage now. You are already the height of fashion, and you’re not even out to the public yet.”
I stopped walking and turned to Manon. “You know I shouldn’t be the height of fashion, right?”
She turned her head in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I mean, I’m just me. Just plain old Waverly Wilson. I’m not like some icon. People shouldn’t be copying me.”
After a moment of staring at me, Manon’s face lit up in understanding. “Ah, you are exclusive. You dislike people emulating you.”
“No, not that even. I’m no one.”
Manon smiled. “Do you really believe that?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then come with me.” Manon took my arm. When we got close to the house, she had me close my eyes. When I opened them, I did a double take. I was standing in a ballroom, and it was exactly as I had imagined it from Grandma’s stories. The floors were white hardwood. The windows reflected the room nearly as perfectly as a mirror. My feet glided across the parquet floor. I almost geeked out and danced. Almost.
Manon led me to the center of the floor. “This room is yours. It is all yours and so is the rest of L’Autre Bête. You think you are small but wait. Balls will be held in your honor. Great dances to which families will plead for invitations. Parties that the poor will watch on the news. Little girls growing up right now will want to be you. Women will be jealous. Men will beg to dance with you, to spend one moment in your presence.”
“But why? I’m just a normal person.”
“No, you are a Merric.” I wanted to correct her with Wilson, but I saw there was no winning this argument, so I shrugged. Manon took my hand and made me give a little twirl. “I know you do not feel this now. You couldn’t even guess but you are powerful, and you belong here with the family. You shall be something special, and I cannot wait to see you become this person.”
It had been such an enjoyable morning, and Manon was such good company; I didn’t want to ruin it by telling her I would leave as soon as possible.
Next, we continued the tour to the grand dining room that was so huge it had five separate fireplaces. I cringed when Manon reminded me the hall fit 500 people. I didn’t like the ninety from last night, and this place was like an echo chamber. I imagined 500 drinkers slurping from glasses, 500 knives scratching on plates, and 500 mouths chewing and chewing.
We went quickly through many of the rooms, like the game room and private theater. There were four swimming pools (not
