There were lanterns set up on poles every few steps within the gardens. They werent lit yet, but by night, they would turn the whole place into a wash of bright light, letting people dance on the lawns as easily as in one of the great rooms of the palace.
Sophia could see people heading inside, one after another. There was a gold-liveried servant by the gate, along with two guards in the brightest blue, their muskets shouldered in perfect parade ground display while nobles and their servants sauntered past.
Sophia hurried for the gate. Shed hoped that she could lose herself in a crowd of those coming in, but by the time she got there, she was the only one. It meant that the servant there was able to give her his full attention. He was an older man in a powdered wig that curled down to the nape of his neck. He looked at Sophia with something approaching disdain.
And what do you want? he demanded, in a tone so arch it might have been that of an actor playing at being noble, rather than the servant of the real thing.
Im here for the ball, Sophia said. She knew she could never pass for noble, but there were still things she could do. Im the servant of
Dont embarrass yourself, the servant shot back. I know perfectly well who is to be let in, and none of them would bother being accompanied by a servant like you. Were not letting in dock whores. Its not that kind of party.
I dont know what you mean, Sophia tried, but the scowl she got back told her that it wasnt even close to working.
Then allow me to explain, the servant on the door said. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Your dress looks as though it has been cut down from a fishwifes. You stink as if youve just come out of a cess pit. As for your voice, you sound as though you couldnt even spell elocution, let alone employ it. Now, be off with you, before I have you run off and thrown in a lock-up for the night.
Sophia wanted to argue, but the cruelty of his words seemed to have stolen all of hers. More than that, theyd stolen away her dream, as easily as if the man had reached out and plucked it from the air. She turned and ran, and the worst part was the laughter that followed her all the way down the street.
Sophia stopped in a doorway further on, utterly humiliated. She hadnt expected this to be easy, but shed expected someone in the city to be kind. Shed thought that she would be able to pass for a servant even if she couldnt pass for a noblewoman.
Maybe that was her mistake though. If she was trying to reinvent herself, shouldnt she go the whole way? Maybe it wasnt too late. She couldnt pass for the kind of servant who would accompany her mistress to a ball, but what could she pass for? She could be the thing shed almost been when she left the orphanage. The kind of servant who would be given the lowest of jobs.
That might work.
The area around the palace was a place of noble townhouses, but also of all the things that their owners might want from the city: dressmakers, jewelers, bathhouses, and more. All things that Sophia couldnt afford, but all things that she might be able to get anyway.
She started with a dressmaker. It was the biggest part of it, and maybe, once she had the dress, the rest would be easier. She walked into the shop that looked busiest, panting as if she were about to collapse, hoping for the best.
What are you doing in here? a steel-haired woman asked, looking up with a mouth full of pins.
Forgive me Sophia said. My mistress shell flog me if her dress is any later she said to run all the way.
She couldnt pass for a servant accompanying her mistress, but she could be that nobles indentured servant, sent on last-minute errands.
And your mistresss name? the dressmaker demanded.
Is this really the kind of servant that Milady DAngelica might send? Perhaps its because theyre of a size and she wishes to know if it will fit?
The flicker of Sophias talent came unbidden. She had more sense than to question it.
Milady DAngelica, she said. Forgive me, but she said to hurry. The ball
Will not start in earnest for another hour or two, and I doubt your mistress will want to be there until the moment to make an entrance, the dressmaker replied. Her tone was a little less harsh now, although Sophia suspected that was only because of who she was pretending to serve. The other woman pointed. Wait there.
Sophia waited, although that was the hardest thing in the world to do right then. It gave her a chance to listen, at least. The servant at the palace had been right: people did speak differently away from the poorest parts of the city. Their vowels were more rounded, the edges of the words more polished. One of the women working there seemed to have come from one of the Merchant States, her accent making her rs roll as she chattered with the others.
It wasnt long before the original dressmaker came out with a dress, holding it up to Sophia for inspection. It was the single most beautiful thing Sophia had ever seen. It shone silver and blue, seeming to shimmer as it moved. The bodice was worked with silver thread, and even the underskirts shimmered in waves, which seemed like a waste. Who would see them?
Milady DAngelica and you are the same size, yes? the dressmaker demanded.
Yes, maam, Sophia replied. Its why she sent me.
Then she should have sent you in the first place, rather than just a list of measurements.
Ill be sure to tell her, Sophia said.
That made the dressmaker pale with horror, as if the sheer thought of it were enough that it might give her a heart attack.
Theres no need for that. Its very close, but I just need to adjust a couple of things. Youre certain that you are her size?
Sophia nodded. To the inch, maam. She has me eat exactly what she does so that we stay the same.
It was a wild, foolish detail to make up, but the dressmaker seemed to swallow it. Perhaps it was the kind of extravagance she believed a noblewoman might stoop to. Either way, she made the adjustments so fast that Sophia could barely believe it, finally handing her a package wrapped in patterned paper.
The bill to go on Miladys account? the dressmaker asked. There was a note of hope there, as if Sophia might have the money on her, but Sophia could only nod. Of course, of course. I trust that Milady DAngelica will be pleased.
Im sure she will be, Sophia said. She practically ran for the door.
Actually, she was sure that the noble would be furious, but Sophia didnt plan on being around for that part.
She had other places to go, for one thing, and other packages to collect on her mistresss behalf.
At a cobblers shop, she collected boots of the finest pale leather, set off with etched lines showing a scene from the Nameless Goddesss life. At a perfumers shop, she acquired a small vial that smelled as though its creator had somehow distilled the essence of everything beautiful into one fragrant combination.
It is my greatest work! he proclaimed. I hope that Lady Beaufort enjoys it.
At each stop, Sophia picked a fresh noblewoman to be the servant of. That was simple practicality: she couldnt guarantee that Milady DAngelica had been to every shop in town. With some of the shops, she picked the names from the owners thoughts. With others, when her talent wouldnt come, she had to keep the conversation hovering until they made assumptions, or, in one case, until she could steal an upside-down glance at a log book over the shops counter.