Page 13 of Legacy of Glass
“Thank you,” Olivia said with relief. “It’s foolish of me, but I only just realized that fact for myself. I’m impressed you remembered the location of my room, though. You’ve only been in here once.”
“I have an excellent memory. And besides, I had to give you these.” Marigold produced two shoes from behind her back, holding them out with a flourish.
Olivia sucked in a breath at the way the light shone through the glass slippers and sparkled off the small heels. She took them carefully from her friend, and Marigold twitched up her own long skirts to show she was similarly shod beneath the layers.
Olivia grinned and slipped the glass shoes on. They were cooler than a normal pair of shoes, but not uncomfortably so. She turned, the glass bending with her movement just like a normal shoe, and presented her back so Marigold could fasten her dress. Marigold wrestled with it, clearly not having much experience with the task, but she eventually succeeded. Stepping back, she surveyed the finished effect and pronounced her design efforts a triumph.
“You look incredible,” she said in a more sincere voice. “I’m so pleased.”
Olivia peered down at herself and smiled. “I think the Legacy deserves most of the credit, but I’m delighted. It’s just like my friend back home said—I really do feel like a princess going to a ball.” She beamed at her friend, who smiled back even more broadly, if that were possible.
“Perfect!” Marigold pronounced, clapping her hands once, and the two girls hurried out of the house, giggling all the way.
Since Olivia’s uncle and the other servants were all occupied with the evening meal in a different part of the house, the two ballgoers escaped unseen. Marigold’s coachman grumbled at their late arrival, but a look from Marigold silenced him.
“Oh dear,” Olivia murmured once they had both squeezed themselves into the carriage. “I didn’t think of the coachman. I hope we’re not in for a bumpy ride given how displeased he looked.”
But Marigold shook her head, clearly unconcerned. “I already had to bribe him shamelessly to get him to ignore my mother’s orders and bring me here before going to the palace. He has nothing to complain about.”
“Marigold!” Olivia stared at her. “Did you really?”
“Yes,” Marigold said, clearly not in the least bothered by her own actions. “But there’s no need to look so horrified. It’s not as if I stole my mother’s favorite jewels to do it. I used my own allowance.” She peered at Olivia. “And don’t start feeling bad or moping about it. I’ve always had a far bigger allowance than I need.”
Olivia swallowed her instinctive protests. Since Marigold’s actions were already done, she might as well enjoy the experience. She would just have to dedicate herself to making sure Marigold had a good time and enjoyed the ball despite her pessimistic outlook on the event.
“I’m now realizing another reason my aunt didn’t want me to accompany them,” Olivia said instead, trying to rearrange her skirts. “It’s hard enough fitting two enormous gowns in here. I’m not sure how my aunt and cousins fit three, but they certainly couldn’t have fit a fourth!”
She eyed Marigold’s gown, which was as large as her own but didn’t appear as fancy. Her heart sank. Marigold must have thrown on one of her old dresses without touching it up, so it was a creation unassisted by the Legacy.
“Do you really not mind me wearing this dress?” she asked.
Marigold stared at her for a moment before breaking into giggles. “Can you imagine me in it?” she asked through her laughter.
Olivia glanced down at the material and style and then back at her friend and her wildly clashing hair.
“No,” she admitted with her own chuckle. “I’m shocked your mother let you order it.” Her humor subsided after a moment, however. “Didn’t your mother comment on it when you came out dressed in a different gown?”
“She probably would have been relieved given how that one turned out,” Marigold said lightly, turning her head to gaze out the carriage window. “But she had already departed for the evening before I was dressed.”
There was an odd note in her voice when she said it, and Olivia fell silent, guessing her friend didn’t want to discuss her mother. Whatever other engagement was occupying Lady Emerson, it must be the reason she wasn’t attending the ball. And perhaps it was something Marigold had also wished to do, instead of being forced to go to the palace.
Olivia, however, was thrilled to be approaching the palace at last. She had used her days off to explore the capital, but she was still far from familiar with the large city. And she had never had the chance to enter the palace grounds, although the structure itself was a familiar landmark, able to be seen from every corner of the capital. The white stone towers and turrets, with their aquamarine roofs, soared far higher than any other building, their color reminding Olivia of the ocean.
Coming from an inland town, she still hadn’t overcome her awe of the sea or stopped enjoying the faint hint of salt that hung in the air even far back in the city. Manor Row was located near the palace, rather than close to the wharves or the beaches that stretched to the north and south of the city, but the water was still her favorite place to visit whenever she ventured on a longer excursion.
But for once her thoughts were turned firmly inland, her glass-shod toes already tapping to unseen music, reminding her that glass slippers loved to dance. Before she knew it, they were approaching the blazing lights of the palace, their carriage traveling along a path lined with elegant lanterns.
A soft sound of excitement slipped out of Olivia, and she looked across at her friend. “This is so exciting!”
Marigold grinned back, but the light in her eyes had edged from impulsive pleasure into something more feverish. So it wasn’t entirely a surprise when Olivia stepped down from the carriage with the help of a royal footman only to hear a ripping sound behind her. She turned to peer back through the door of the carriage.
“How clumsy of me.” Marigold grimaced down at the voluminous layers of her skirts.
“I’ll help you,” Olivia said quickly. “Do you have a needle and thread stashed in the carriage somewhere? Or in your purse, perhaps? I’m sure I can have it sewn up in no time.”
Marigold shook her head. “Leave it to me. It’s in a somewhat sensitive position, so I daren’t climb down until it’s fixed, but if you try to climb back in, there won’t be any room for either of us to maneuver.”
Olivia silently acknowledged that her friend was right about the difficulty of effecting repairs with both of them crammed into the carriage. “Take your time, then,” she said. “I don’t mind waiting.”
