“That’s better, next time you better listen to me,” she warned the mirror as if it were a living, breathing thing and proceeded to sit back in her chair.
The mirror behaved, and we caught glimpses of a serious King Ferdinand as he cleared his throat. “All eligible daughters of Candor, who are fair of face and form, will hereby receive an invitation by royal dove to attend Prince Evander's designation ball. Those who meet palace approval will be asked to stay on, to be courted by Prince Evander so he may choose his future bride.”
Mother Eville jumped up, knocking the high-back over. Aura, next to me, was startled and jerked. I leaned back and tried to sink deeper into my cushion, but stabbed myself on my needle.
“Ouch!” I cried, drawing Mother Eville’s eyes to rest on me. I wanted to crawl under the settee and disappear.
“It’s time,” she said solemnly. She turned, and every girl in the room sat still, looking at her intently.
“To do what?” Rhea asked.
“Why, what we do best—revenge.”
At the announcement, my sisters stopped fidgeting and looked to Mother eagerly.
My stomach dropped, and my mouth went dry. I could see the viperous smiles of five sisters. When I looked back at the smiling monarchs in the mirror, a nervous and fake smile crossed my own lips. Yes, when my mother was done with them, they wouldn’t know what hit them.
Chapter Two
“Are you going to curse the royal line if you get chosen, Eden?” Maeve asked as she bounced on my bed, skewing the dresses that I had laid out to press. At seventeen, she was the youngest of my adoptive siblings and was probably the most vicious and immature of us—which was never a good mix. If we didn’t pay enough attention to Maeve, we’d wake up to find dead lizards in our bed, or worse, live ones. She did leave me with an interesting thought, however. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do.
“I don’t know,” I answered and yanked on the dark black dress that she was kneeling on. She lifted her knee, and the black silk slid out. I glanced over it to make sure there weren’t any tears. “I won’t be chosen, Aura will. She’s the most likely choice.”
“Well, suppose you did get chosen to go, what would you do then?” she asked, batting her thick eyelashes at me.
I paused my pressing, magically suspending the hot iron in midair, and thought about it. “I suppose the smart thing to do would be to get close to the family, find what they hold dearest and take that from them.”
“Cursing the royal family with boils would be the fastest solution.” Maeve flipped over on her back, her dark hair fanning out across my quilt. She held up her hand and started to examine her black-painted nails.
“But what good would that do if they could get a fairy to heal them? It has to be something more miserable—more permanent,” I chastised and looked out across my dresses. They were getting pretty old and a bit threadbare. There was nothing that stood out in the crowd, nothing that was considered palace worthy.
“Has the invitation come yet?” Maeve asked. “It’s been three days since the announcement.”
“No,” I answered, unsure if I was sad or relieved at the prospect. I wasn’t altogether sure that we’d even receive one, even though we were on the border of Candor. The town of Nihill, whose name means nothing, wasn’t exactly claimed by any of the kingdoms. The invitations were to be delivered by the royal doves to all families with daughters living under their roof. But in all of the years of living here, we had never received a royal invitation to anything—not a single event, parade, or christening. Not even when the king’s oldest son, Prince Vincent, died, God rest his soul, did we get an invitation to the funeral. It was if we resided under an impenetrable mountain and no one could get to us. We lived on the outskirts of the town in one of the tallest freestanding buildings, an old guard tower. We were forgotten and ignored—unless someone needed something from us, and then we were mysteriously visible again.
Maeve got up and moved over to my window, pulling aside the curtain to look out. It was dreary and had been raining for hours. She exhaled on the glass and traced the rivulets with her finger. “Don’t worry, we will. Maybe the royal doves don’t like to fly in the rain?” She unlatched the window, pushing the pane outward, waved her hand, and the rain stopped. The clouds parted, and the sun shone down, warming the glass. “There, now we will get the invitation.” She turned and grinned with pride. But I could see the doubt in her eyes.
“You needn’t waste your power for that.” I frowned in disapproval.
“Oh, come on, Eden, this is the most exciting thing that has happened in—well, forever. I don’t have the patience to wait for a royal dodo to fly through a storm to get here.”
“We are waiting just like everyone else,” I said.
“But most everyone else has already gotten theirs. The mirror told me so. In fact, I heard that even Fanny Mignonette received one.” Maeve’s lips pouted, and I hid my smile. Fanny, that was who the hex doll was supposed to resemble. Maeve and Fanny had been enemies since they were toddlers.
It seemed that Maeve had been using the mirror to eavesdrop on the neighboring families. When I was her age, I, too, would spend hours listening to the chatter through the mirror. Until we started to hear the rumors, the negative things people whispered about us behind our backs. Then listening to an enchanted mirror’s gossip lost its appeal. Apparently, that wasn’t so for Maeve.
“Then we continue to wait.”
Her brows turned down, and I could tell my words had upset her. “No, we don’t. We’re not like them. We shouldn’t have to wait for anything.” She turned her back and stared out the window in anger. Her dark hair billowed as the wind caught it, making it flow from her shoulders.
“Maeve, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t,” I warned.
Her eyes flashed with power, and she looked at me, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “How do you know what I’m thinking?” She raised her hands above her head, and I watched as she seamlessly shifted into a black raven and landed on the window ledge. She danced back and forth, shifting her head side to side before letting out a loud caw and flying out into the night. Her wing knocked into my glass windchime as she left, sending a tinkling sound that followed her out.
Maeve was more comfortable flying the world in her bird form than being a human girl. I couldn’t blame her. If I were as good as her at shapeshifting, I’d probably choose a bird and fly far away to the kingdoms beyond.
Sighing, I looked out across my small room and waved my hand across the glamour. The extravagant four-poster bed disappeared to be replaced by a small single bed. The black lace pillow shams were replaced by a single worn-out and flattened pillow. The soft damask, patterned carpet dissolved to reveal the cold gray stone floor. Two other beds shared the top floor of the tower with mine. Rosalie’s empty mattress haunted me, her quilt and pillow tucked away in a chest. Aura’s bed was covered with everything pink and girly. Our room now looked less comfortable and more like a cell. Glamour was one of the first spells I learned, and I had a natural affinity for it—unlike my sisters. They thought it was torturous practice holding a glamour for hours or even days at a time, but for me I could easily fall asleep and still keep control of a glamoured objects and items—unless I lost control of my emotions. Then my glamour became as scattered as my thoughts. Also, after a few days of holding the spell, I would get an uncomfortable pressure behind my eyes. To use glamour to become someone else for long periods, I needed a personal item, or something they had recently touched.