Malice

and we’ve seen more patrons this week than in the last month. Delphine can barely manage to fit everyone in our schedules. Her huge appointment book sits open on her desk in the alcove, quill still dripping with ink where she left it to snatch a bite from the kitchen. And it’s not only Lavender House: All of the Grace houses are reeling. “Is this the worth of my gift? To help a vapid patron decide whether to wear pink or blue?”
As per the Grace Laws, Laurel cannot refuse a paying patron. It’s another way the Grace Council contrives to keep the Graces from showing bias among their patrons. Any Grace who refuses to use her gift—unless she has express permission—is punished. Usually, a larger portion of her profits are forfeited to the Crown and Grace Council, who already take their healthy cut of coin. But some Graces are brought to trial and face much steeper consequences. The last trial was a year ago, and the Grace in question was placed in a strict punitive house where she is monitored at all times to ensure she’s following the laws.
“You won’t be griping once you can order more of your precious books.” Rose bustles through the doors, stuffing a pastry bulging with strawberries and cream into her mouth. She flops onto a jade chaise and Calliope seems to materialize out of thin air, leaning her front paws on Rose’s knees and wagging her plumy tail.
“At least I’m not wasting my income on clothes.” Laurel lifts an eyebrow.
Even without an “encouraging” elixir, Madame LaRoche was able to accommodate Rose’s request for a new gown—and Rose has done nothing but blabber about the fine details since she returned from the clothier’s. The monstrosity of silk and lace is blushing peony, the exact same shade as Rose’s hair, accented with seed pearls and rosebuds and trimmed with a fine layer of real, whisper-thin gold. I don’t even want to imagine the cost.
“I’m not wasting my income at all. You might not care about this house’s standings, but I do. No patron will visit a beauty Grace if she doesn’t look her part. Do you think anyone would bother to book appointments with me if I dressed like Alyce?” She scoffs, but I ignore the jab. “I want everyone in the realm to see that I’m simply swimming in coin. In fact…” Rose whips her schedule from her bodice and brandishes it at us. I can hardly see the parchment for all the times and names. “I’ve told Delphine to shorten my appointments so I can accommodate more patrons.”
Laurel pulls back from the schedule as if it has fangs. “Why are you trying so hard?”
“I don’t know why you don’t try harder.” Rose scoops Calliope into her lap and nuzzles her nose into the storm of white fur. “Don’t you want a larger house? A wider following? Invitations to the palace?”
I suppress the urge to groan, caring less than the pus from one of Prince Markham’s warts about any of those “rewards.” Part of the annual Grace Celebration includes a Blooming Ceremony, which is when the new Graces demonstrate their skills and are assigned both a house and a preliminary fee by the Grace Council. In order to keep competition between the houses fair, Graces are placed evenly throughout the district, regardless of the type or strength of their gift. In fact, lesser houses like ours often receive the more talented newly Bloomed Graces so that we might have a chance of keeping up with the larger houses. But a Grace’s placement is by no means permanent. Like the housemistresses, a Grace can be reassigned or even request a transfer from the Grace Council. Rose has been trying to wheedle her way into Willow House for years, even though they already have an exceptionally gifted beauty Grace—Pearl.
With several dozen Graces sharing the same type of gift, it’s no surprise that the rivalry between them can be fierce. Pearl has an enormous following. She earned the most coin out of all Graces last year. There are even hints that she might replace one of the Royal Graces, those so talented they’re given apartments at the palace and fees that can only be afforded by the richest nobles and the royal family.
“I’m happy to work less and let my gift linger.” Laurel pours more tea.
“Then Mistress Lavender can just leave you to wallow here when she earns her promotion.” Rose leans back so her head rests against the plush curve of the chaise. “I plan to be her prime Grace at her new house.”
“If you haven’t Faded by then.”
I thought I’d said the words too quietly to hear, but Rose jerks upright like she’s been stabbed, eyes smoldering amber. Calliope yips as Rose shoves her to the floor. My pulse speeds up. For a moment I think Rose might use her perfectly polished nails to tear into my face instead of the silk upholstery she’s currently strangling. But then her shoulders soften.
“Alyce.” Her voice is sweet enough to make my teeth ache. “Would you be a dear? You clearly have nothing to do and I need some enhancements.” She withdraws another sheaf of paper from a pocket at her waist and holds it out to me. Even from here, I can see that the writing takes up both sides. A trip to the apothecary to fetch the ingredients is bad enough so close to the ball, but then I’ll have to lug the heavy sack back through the Grace District. And I’m already tired from my own day.
“I have a patron coming.”
“Really?” Rose raises her eyebrows. “Shall we check with Delphine?”
I bite my tongue, gaze darting to the appointment book. I’ve finished for today. My morning was full to the gills, but it’s midafternoon and the nobles are busy getting ready for dinners and parties. I could have a walk-in, which sometimes happens. But Delphine would just tell them I’m otherwise engaged and schedule a later appointment.