The woman harrumphed. “Very well, dear,” she said. “At least tell your swain about my shop. Business has been slow lately.”
My skin was still crawling when I entered the post office. Of all the things I expected the strange boutique to be, it was a snail shop!
When I inquired after Helene, Vincent, the mustachioed postman, informed me that I arrived a minute too late. The letters had already dispatched and were unlikely to be called back.
“Then are there any letters from my father?” I asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately not, Miss Amarante,” Vincent said. He looked apologetic. I left before he could express his sympathy.
The trip home was slow and cumbersome. I was in no rush to see my stepmother again, as I expected yet another lecture about my brashness and unladylike behavior. However, no one had the breath to scold me when I arrived.
“Hurry and get dressed, Amarante!” my stepmother said when I entered. She was in a flurry of spirits, running to and fro with curl papers in her hair. “Dinner with the Sternfelds starts in an hour!”
I barely had time to breathe before Theodora ushered me upstairs to lace me into a presentable dress, her apron still dusted with flour from the rolls she had abandoned in the kitchen. Rowena fussed over Genevieve’s shawl. By the time everyone was properly attired, we set out across the street.
THE STERNFELDS’ DINING room was large and cavernous, but sparsely furnished. A short dining table sat underneath a massive, glittering chandelier. There were no servants waiting along the walls. The house seemed to have a sort of stillness to it, which the clinking of silverware did little to fill.
I had heard whispers around the neighborhood that Lord Gideon Sternfeld was immensely rich, having acquired his wealth in the bookbinding business. No one said he had a bad case of gout and was perpetually grouchy because of it. I found it immensely hard to enjoy dinner when I knew His Lordship’s gouty foot was underneath the food.
I stole another glance at Lord Gideon at the head of the table, trying to find Mr. Sternfeld’s open friendliness on his face. If anything, Lord Gideon’s face was closed. His many wrinkles seemed to shrivel into a mighty frown, hard and unmoving.
Miss Olivia Sternfeld sat next to her brother across the table. She was a petite girl with large brown eyes and as pretty as Mr. Sternfeld was handsome. There was a timidity to her manner and after our polite introduction, she didn’t peep another word. Neither did I, after realizing that eating was the much better alternative.
“You don’t seem to keep much staff here, Mr. Sternfeld.” Lydia’s voice sounded eerily loud in the large room.
“Please, call me Cedric. And Joe here takes care of most things. He’s been fantastic serving grandfather all these years,” Cedric said, gesturing to the black-haired man standing behind him. He looked about forty, with skin almost as dark as his tightly curled locks. He gave a curt bow and resumed his silent post.
“Will he not join us?” Genevieve asked.
“Absolutely not, miss,” Lord Gideon boomed. “Servants at the dining table? How preposterous.”
Genevieve looked taken aback. My stepmother flushed. I suspected that once we went home, Theodora and Rowena and our other staff would no longer be allowed to dine at our table.
Cedric coughed and stirred his soup. “What my grandfather means is that it’s not customary.”
He gave his grandfather a look I could only describe as a blend of pity and frustration. His Lordship was chewing on a mussel, seemingly unbothered by the tension.
“So, Cedric, your sister is attending the Season?” Lydia asked. She had learned ten minutes ago that it was futile to speak to Olivia directly. “Will you not attend?”
“Unfortunately, no. I am looking through some encyclopedias I found during my travels,” he said. He chatted animatedly about a book of various herbs and their medicinal properties. I hardly understood half of what he was describing, but I was glad someone was talking at all.
Lord Gideon harrumphed. “You embarrass yourself, boy. You’re supposed to bind books, not read them. Especially not ones about plants. Botany is not a real man’s hobby.”
“Botany is an admirable science,” Genevieve interceded. “I’m quite fond of plants myself.”
“Really?” Cedric said, leaning forward. “Do you have a favorite?”
My stepsister smiled. “Roses.”
“Ah, you did have some lovely ones in your garden.”
A loud rustling sounded as Lord Gideon pulled out a newspaper from underneath the table and flicked it open. A corner of it soaked into his gravy boat. Lydia stared.
“Anything interesting in the news, grandfather?” Cedric said after a beat.
He grunted. “Some fellow got arrested for buying from the Witch Market.”
“Horrid place, that is,” Lydia said.
Lord Gideon looked at her with steely eyes. “How would you know? Have you been there?”
“N-no, Your Lordship. I only hear things, that’s all.”
“I’m sure you do.” He disappeared behind his newspaper again.
The clinking of spoons filled the air for a few moments.
“So, the welcome banquet for debutantes is in a week,” Cedric said. I was impressed by how cheery he still sounded.
“It is,” Genevieve said, seemingly eager to converse again. “Olivia could take a carriage with me and Amarante to the palace if she wishes.”
Olivia bent lower over her soup. Cedric smiled at her.
“That’s kind of you to offer, Miss Genevieve, but my sister and I are moving into the palace tomorrow. I thought it’d be a good opportunity to see the royal grounds while I’m in Delibera.”
My stepmother’s eyes widened. The palace offered room and board for debutantes who wished to stay close for events, but the cost of living with royalty was a high one indeed. The fact that both Cedric and Olivia could afford to live there spoke volumes about their wealth.
“Well! That is quite exciting,” Lydia said. “Maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of Queen Cordelia, or the princes.”
“Heard that Prince Ash is illegitimate,” Lord Gideon said from behind his newspaper.
“How would you know, Grandfather?
