The Glittering Court (The Glittering Court, #1)(10)

Upon my advice, she gathered only a few small things: a change of clothes, a family locket, and a pack of Deanzan cards. She flushed, seeing my raised eyebrow at that last one.

“It’s just a lark, my lady. We read the cards for fun. People always have.”

“Until the Alanzans made them a key part of their religion,” I said. “The priests are burning them these days. Don’t get yourself arrested as a heretic.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t worship demons! Or trees!”

Everything else she left behind. The household was so busy getting ready for the move that no one paid us a second glance as we sneaked around about our tasks. I took her remaining possessions—which weren’t much, only a few items of clothing—back to my room and hid them while I covertly saw her off. She startled me with a quick, highly inappropriate hug, tears shining in her eyes.

“Thank you, my lady. Thank you. You’ve saved me from a terrible fate.”

And you may have done the same for me, I thought.

Upon my instructions, she walked casually out the front gate as though she were just going on a market errand. I don’t think the sentry on duty even noticed her leaving. She was invisible, something I couldn’t even comprehend . . . yet. As soon as she was gone, I returned to my painting in the garden, trying for all the world to look as though I were going about my usual attempts to pass the time while the rest of the household labored. Whenever I could work it into conversation with other servants, I mentioned casually that Ada had left for a new position and how wonderful it was that it had been arranged for her. Everyone knew someone had come asking about her before, but no one knew the details of that conversation. Many other servants had moved on already, so her departure was nothing new.

As evening wore on, word came that my grandmother and Lady Branson had been detained for dinner while out visiting a friend. That development couldn’t have suited me better, though I did have a moment of pause when I realized I might never see Grandmama again. We’d exchanged harsh words that morning, but that didn’t diminish my love for her . . . or hers for me. Everything she’d done in this mess with Lionel had been to benefit me, and there would be a huge fallout when it disintegrated.

Don’t falter now, I told myself. I took deep breaths, forcing calm. Grandmama can deal with whatever happens. And when the scandal dies down, she’ll live with Lady Branson and her daughter. She’ll be much happier there than under Lady Dorothy’s close supervision.

Even if we were apart, there was still the chance Grandmama might very well walk through my door, some far-off day. But oh, how she’d worry about me. I hoped that if—no, when—we met again, she’d understand why I’d had to do this. I couldn’t marry into a life of luxury if it meant leaving my soul at the door.

After dinner, I complained of a headache and retired to my room. It was about the only reason I could have to be alone, and even that wasn’t easy. As soon as I’d shooed my doting maids away, I changed out of the fine silk dress I’d worn for dinner and put on Ada’s simpler linen one—which gave me some difficulty. I usually had maids helping me in and out of my clothes and wasn’t accustomed to managing buttons without extra hands. Ada’s dress was dark blue in color, with no ornamentation. The white chemise I put on under it was equally plain. I’d never truly noted until then how drab my ladies’ clothing really was. Still, it would help conceal me, as did the gray hooded cloak I wore over it. I packed the rest of her clothing into a small satchel and then hurried down a narrow servants’ staircase little used this time of night. After ascertaining no one was around, I slipped out a back door.

That put me in the courtyard by our stables, which were now darkened with twilight’s shadows. Servants bustled about here, winding things down for the night, and no one noticed me as I huddled in the darkness. This was the most dangerous part of this endeavor, the part where it could all fall apart if anyone got a good look at me. I had to walk across the courtyard, toward the stable’s back gates. The spring weather had cooled considerably, and I wasn’t the only one with a hood. I just prayed no one would take a look at my face as I walked.

The stable boy guarding the back gate was busy whittling, his attention turned to anyone trying to get in, not out. If he noticed me, he saw only the back of one of the servant girls who came and went about the household’s tasks. Once I was out of the enclosure, I hurried around the corner of our home, out toward the busy thoroughfare of our front street. Traffic on it had slowed since earlier in the day, but there were still horses and pedestrians out for the evening, their steps clattering on the cobblestone street. Most didn’t give me a second glance. I was a lady’s maid, not a lady.

An errant priest of Uros stood on a corner, preaching against the Alanzan heretics. He pointed accusingly at me, his finger right up in my face. “You wouldn’t worship the sun and moon, would you, girl?”

There was a fanatic, feverish gleam in his eyes, and I was so astonished that I froze before him.

“You! Stay right there!”

I gasped as two city sentries came running toward me. I was barely across the street from my home! How had they known to come for me already?

But it wasn’t me they were after. They seized the priest, one holding the thrashing man while the other bound his wrists. “How dare you lay hands on one of Uros’s chosen!” bellowed the priest.