Chapter 16
The following afternoon, Vanya burst into our dorm room with a smile on her face. “I got one!”
“One what?” I said, glancing up from the open book in my lap.
“I got an invitation to the night race.” She rushed toward me and hopped on the edge of my bed, shoving a piece of paper toward me.
With lifted brows, I plucked it from her fingers. “This is an empty piece of paper,” I said, flipping it over in my hand. The paper was nice, thick, high quality, to be sure, but there were no words on it.
She sighed dramatically. “Look.” She pointed at an embossed circle in the center of the piece of paper. I squinted at it. I brought it close to my face, but I still couldn’t make out what it was.
“It’s the symbol for the secret society that hosts the races.”
My brows shot up. “Secret society?”
“Oh, come on. Have you not heard of it?”
“Vanya, you’re the only one I talk to. If you haven’t told me, then I haven’t heard of it.”
She rolled her eyes and scooted toward me, pointing to the embossed symbol on the blank piece of paper. “See these? They’re twined roses. That’s the symbol for Thorn and Key. This is just a stamp, but in their real symbol, you can tell one rose is really a silver key.”
“How do you know all this?” I said.
Vanya blushed. “Being royalty has its advantages.”
I snorted. “I’m sure it does. So how do we know this is an invitation to some sort of race, and where did you get it?”
“It was inside my book in the common room, the one I’d left down there on the table last night. I left it there on purpose. Prescott’s older brother tipped me off that if I wanted an invitation, I should leave something of mine sitting around that was easy to access.”
“Did he now?” I said, hiding a small smile. Prescott’s brother was a second year, bonded to a gorgeous pearl-colored female we’d seen doing elaborate acrobatics over the training yard a couple of times.
“But I get to pick someone to come with me. And I pick you.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting the letter aside. “How do you know they’ll let you bring someone?”
“Flip it over.”
I flipped over the piece of paper. I still didn’t see any words. She held it up to the window, and there was a watermark on the paper that could only be seen when it was against the light.
Midnight tonight was written with a watermark. Beneath it, the words Bring a friend. “Watermarks? Really?”
“I'm telling you, the people here have no end to their resources.”
“So says the royal,” I retorted.
“So are you coming?”
I remembered Covington’s words. My body slumped slightly at the thought of another night without much rest. “Sleep is for the dead, right?”
Vanya squealed and clapped her hands. “Well, you’re not wearing that.”
“Why not?” I said, glancing down at my school uniform.
Vanya clicked her tongue and walked to her wardrobe, flinging it wide open.
“I have other clothes,” I grumbled.
Holding her wardrobe doors open, she glanced over her shoulder, one hip cocked to the side.
“Honey, what you have are clothes. What you need is an outfit.” She dove into her wardrobe and came out holding a dark evening dress.
“This one might fit you.” She held it toward me. “With a little tweaking.”
“It’s cold,” I said, eyeing the dress.
“Who cares if it’s cold?” She eyed me with an expression that said I dare you to argue.
At eleven p.m., Vanya peeked out our door, glanced both ways down the hall, then ushered me out of our room.
We tiptoed down the hall, down the flight of stairs, and slipped from the school into the chilly night.
Vanya’s dark blue dress hadn’t fit, not even with some tweaking.
She was shorter than me, her hips wider, and the bodice was simply too short for my long torso.
Even with the more daring necklines of evening dresses, hers was not an option.
So, despite her disappointment, I wore my only dinner dress, which was a few years out of fashion and much bulkier than Vanya’s.
“You look marvelous, dear,” she’d told me, but I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on the high neckline, the poofy sleeves.
In my head, I chided Fairfax for overlooking my need for a proper dinner dress. I couldn't exactly tell him I needed one for an illegal night race.
Vanya had given me one of her long ruffled dusters, which I wrapped eagerly around my shoulders before we exited the common room into the school’s courtyard. It hid most of the dress, anyway.
“One of the things about the night races,” she said as we hurried across the courtyard, “is that if you’re caught by the police, you’re never invited again.”
“Makes sense,” I said with a shrug, “considering these are illegal.”
“You want to go, don't you?”
I nodded.
“If we’re caught,” Vanya hissed at me, “you could be expelled.”
“Right. And because you’re a princess, you won’t be?”
“I know it’s not fair, but it’s true,” she said, pulling on my arm, which was mostly hidden beneath a long glove. “I am glad you’re coming with me, but I want to make sure that you know what’s at risk.”
I’d already risked everything when I decided to come here with a wild dragon. Going to a night race felt small in comparison. We slipped through the courtyard, hugging the walls, and before we knew it, we were in the city.
Treston was not safe after dark. The thieves and gamblers wandered the streets deep in their cups, and all young ladies knew better than to walk the streets without a chaperone after dark.
I was glad this dress had pockets, and the comforting bump of my knife against my thigh gave me a small bit of courage as we hurried toward the train station not far down the street.
On the otherwise deserted platform, a huddle of Cardan Lott students stood passing bottles back and forth, laughing riotously.
There were about a dozen students, all in evening finery, save one.
Rushland Covington still wore his white uniform shirt, but his blazer was missing.
Wrapped around his shoulders was a leather holster boasting a small pistol.
I balked at it as we walked up. Scarlett, who’d been hidden from view behind him, leaned forward as she laughed at something Prescott said.
She had a man’s blazer around her shoulders.
Covington glanced over at us, his eyes locking on me.
A thrill ran through my blood as I slid into the small circle beside Vanya. For the moment, nobody pushed me out, nobody laughed that I was here or that my dress was out of style. Some of them smiled and greeted Vanya. They said nothing to me, but at least they didn't tell me to leave.
The train rattled down the track, hissing as it let out steam.
“In we go,” announced an older student from House Emerald. The second and third years climbed in first, citing their seniority. Several more students ran up and leaped onto the train as the first years waited our turn. When the older students were all on board, the first years filed in.
“After you,” Covington said flatly, nodding at the coach.
I climbed inside. The coach was mostly full, the older students taking up the seats that faced each other, leaving us to cram in the rows of seats at the back of the cabin.
“We got two more!” Prescott shouted as he climbed the steps. Two more second years stuffed themselves inside. Vanya had to sit on my lap to make room as one of them shoved in beside me.
Covington boarded last, and there were no more seats.
Across the aisle from us, Scarlett scooted forward and patted the seat beneath her.
With a grin, Covington slid onto the bench, and she perched on his knees.
When his arm looped around her waist, I looked away.
Scarlett half giggled, half whispered silly words into his ear as we made our way deeper into the city.
Clear bottles were passed down the rows.
Scarlett’s laughter was higher pitched than normal, her cheeks redder. Though it could have just been that she’d applied more rouge and was so infatuated with Covington that it altered her laugh.
Luther walked down the aisle, a small notebook in his hands. When he paused beside Covington, I strained to hear what he asked over the clacking wheels and the loud voices.
“What are the odds?” Covington asked.
“Three to one.”
Covington reached into his pocket and handed Luther two coins. In the warm light, I spotted the silver hue of a vestren as the money clinked into Luther’s palm.
Two vestrens. Fifty carands, handed over like they were pocket change to be flicked at a beggar.
He was betting a fortune. My shock made me miss who he was betting on.
Luther reached up and rattled his pen against the metal bar on the suitcase rack. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you brought a wheelbarrow to roll the winnings home tonight. The purse is up fifty carands.”
Impressed whistles sounded in the train car.
Scarlett wrapped her arms around Covington’s neck, her cheek pressed to his. Vanya clutched the back of the seat in front of us and shouted something in her native tongue that I assumed was unbecoming of a princess. Everyone laughed.
These people bet more money in a single night than many people saw in an entire year. My chest felt hollow as I pictured Evie asleep on our bed. Mama wouldn’t have to sleep on the cot anymore, now that I was gone.
But when the train slowed at the station for Parliament Square and the students stood up, I found myself smiling with everyone else, lost in the excitement.
Covington placed his hands on Scarlett’s waist and shifted her off of him, picking her up like she was no more than a doll.
I made a face at her high-pitched giggle.