Lana turned her back to me again. “I will call for you in two weeks time. I won’t tolerate tardiness.”
“Yes, Lana.”
“And throw that bag of plants in my garden on your way out. I could use some fertilizer.”
––––––––
IRETURNED WHEN GENEVIEVEwas dressing for breakfast. She started at my sudden appearance.
“Amarante? Where have you been?”
I pointed to the note I had left on my mattress. “On a walk.” I discreetly shoved my bag under my bed as Genevieve bent down for the note.
“A walk. At the crack of dawn? Dressed like that?”
I nodded, hoping she wouldn’t question me further. Luckily, she didn’t, but the face she made told me that it wouldn’t be easily forgotten.
“Hurry and get dressed,” she said, tossing me a gown. I caught it, but not before the fabric hit me squarely in the face.
I recognized the gown Papa sent me for my sixteenth birthday. He was overseas, unable to attend my birthday celebration. I ran my fingers across the olive-green silk of the bodice. The square neckline was embroidered with shimmering bronze vines.
“What’s the occasion? We don’t have an event today, do we?” I asked.
Genevieve twisted her fingers. “No, but you are summoned to the palace.”
I began to ask why, but realization dawned on me.
“Oh. Oh no.”
13
It turned out thatthrowing punch at the duchess’s daughter in front of an audience of debutantes was not something that could be easily overlooked. A letter arrived from the palace summoning me to the queen herself for disciplinary matters. My gut dropped to the floor.
“Don’t worry, Amarante,” Tori said. “I’m sure Her Majesty knows perfectly well what the duchess and her daughter are like.”
“She and Queen Cordelia are bosom friends,” I said. “You told us that yourself, remember?”
