I took a step toward him, undaunted by neither his size nor status. “Well, I won’t, and I’m not! I get that I’m here to play a part—that I’m here to be a doll you can display for the highest bidders. But nothing in my contract says I have to shut down my feelings—that I can ignore that tragedy. Maybe you should have added heartlessness to our curriculum, since you seem to be such an expert.”
“Adelaide,” said Miss Bradley, aghast. “How dare you speak to Mister Thorn that way?”
“You are certainly entitled to your opinion,” Jasper told me coolly. “And Uros knows you’ve never hesitated to express it. But you signed a contract taking on this purpose—and this purpose is about to begin. If you’d rather opt out and return to a workhouse in Osfrid, that can be arranged.”
“Maybe I will.”
I turned my back on him and stormed away, ignoring Miss Bradley’s protests. I paid little heed to where I was going, pushing past startled crew and passengers. I reached one of the entrances to the ship’s interior and moved through the labyrinthine passages until I found myself back in the cargo room with the painting. I hadn’t realized this was where I was headed, but I wasn’t entirely surprised this was where my heart led. On this voyage, it was really the only space that had been my own.
I sank to the floor against the wall, burying my face in my hands as great sobs racked my body. Tears of anger mingled with sadness as I raged at the world. I hated the fickle winter weather that had brought us to this point. I hated Jasper for making us go on as though everything was normal. And I hated myself.
I hated myself most of all because if not for me, Tamsin would have never been on that ship.
I didn’t notice Cedric coming in until he was right beside me. “Adelaide.” When I didn’t respond or look up, he repeated: “Adelaide.”
My sobs diminished, but I was still sniffling as I finally lifted my head.
“The others are looking for you,” he said, his face grave. “Miss Bradley’s beside herself. She thinks some sailor carried you off.”
“Then tell her I’m fine. That I needed to be alone.”
“But you aren’t fine.”
That previous anger surged up in me, and I shot to my feet. “Why? Because I can’t go through with this charade? Because I want to mourn, like a feeling human being?”
He rose to stand before me. “Everyone wants to mourn. No one’s dismissing what happened.”
“Your father is,” I pointed out.
A pained expression passed over Cedric’s face. “He’s not . . . entirely unfeeling. But he’s dominated by his business sense. And his business sense is telling him we need to make the same grand entrance that the Glittering Court always makes. Once we reach the house, I heard him telling Miss Bradley, we’ll take a little more downtime than usual before the ball season kicks off.”
“And then we go on like nothing’s ever happened,” I stated. “Dancing. Smiling. Dressing up.”
“Adelaide, what do you expect? Yes, my father’s callous, but he’s right that we’re here for a reason. We can’t just call it off because of what happened to the Gray Gull.”
I slumped against the wall and closed my eyes. “Tamsin was on that ship.”
“I know.”
“Do you know why?” I asked, focusing back on him. “Because of me. Because of what I did. Because of that stunt I pulled with the exams.”
“Adelaide—”
“I don’t regret helping you,” I continued. “I owed you. But I should have told her. I should have told her about my past and trusted that, as my friend, she would keep my secrets. But I was too proud—too stubborn and caught up in my own importance. And now she’s dead. Because of me.”
He gently put his arms around me and tried to draw me to him. A fleeting memory of our moment with the honey cakes stirred within me, and I pushed back from him. I couldn’t deal with that, not right now.
“You can’t think like that,” he said. “It’s not your fault.”
“Really? Then whose fault is it? Whose fault is it she was on that ship?”
“Hers. She made that decision, and she was just as stubborn as you. We’re all in charge of our own lives—and we have to live with the consequences of the choices we make.”
Those tears threatened to return, and I blinked, refusing to let them have power over me. “Just like I have since I traded places with Ada. And now you’re saying I need to keep on with what I started. That I need to go catch my wealthy husband.”
“I’m saying . . .” He paused, brow momentarily furrowed. “I’m saying I don’t want you to go to a workhouse.”
“Me either,” I admitted. Here was that precipice, and the choice was solely on me: Grit my teeth and push on to Adoria, or skulk back to Osfrid. “Fine. I’ll go play the game and get ready.”
I started to turn toward the door, and he blocked my way. “Adelaide . . . I’m sorry. I really am.”
“I know,” I said. “I am too. But it can’t change anything.”
Back in the Glittering Court’s wing, I found girls rushing between their own rooms and the common room, everyone too busy with hair and clothing to stop and speak to me. Few made eye contact, though I noted several giving me sidelong glances when they thought I didn’t see.
In my room, I found Mira buttoning up her overdress. It was made of a rich, scarlet satin embroidered with golden flowers. Silk petticoats in that same gold flashed underneath the dress. She looked exotic and mysterious. Seeing me, she instantly stopped buttoning and swept me into her arms. I leaned into her and had to fight the tears back again.